Page 140

“I must confer mentally with Macoe,” Toren said, though his gaze flicked toward Ryssa. From his husband’s scowl, it seemed he’d understood the hint—Toren wasn’t speaking to the captain. “Give me a moment.”

Once again, Toren took a deep breath, but it was impossible to remain calm. Even that morning, he wouldn’t have believed himself capable of doing this. But with this final betrayal by Vesset, his brother’s claims seemed more likely to be true. Key among them? Ryenil as enemy. Even Ryssa had calmly said her father was willing to use people.

Besides, if Ber was intending another betrayal, then he would learn of Vesset’s letter to the king once it was received. Warning him now would only reveal the information a week or two sooner—a risk while the Centoi were still in Llyalia, but a risk that could be managed. However, if Berwason their side, then Ryenil would never learn their secrets at all.

Toren closed his eyes, sucked in another breath, and then sought the link he’d tried to ignore since childhood. A bond formed in the womb, and one not easily severed. Energy, a fragment of his vast store, streamed away in an invisible line, reinforcing their connection across the distance. As soon as he made mental contact, he caught a moment of profound shock before his brother’s emotions shuttered.

The link snapped firm.“Toren? Did something happen to Tes?”

Such a simple question, but it tore something in him with its pain-filled honesty. That wasnotthe demand of someone who wanted his wife dead, yet Toren still didn’t dare to admit to her presence.“No one here has been hurt,”he offered instead.“Not yet. But we found a traitor. Vesset sent a letter with someone in your party, and although I haven’t had time to learn all it contained, I presume it will reveal many facts that neither of us want the Centoi king to know.”

“Who?”Ber snapped, his mental voice cold and deadly.“Who received the letter?”

“I don’t know. Vesset is being hauled to the dungeon as we speak, but I will soon question him further. However, with time being crucial…”

There was the briefest hesitation before Ber spoke again.“I can’t believe you told me.”

“Nor can I,”Toren admitted. “But if you were to betray me either now or after reaching Ryenil, the results would be the same. It seemed prudent to gamble on your truth.”

“I see.”Was there hurt in those tight words?“It will serve you well. I’ll find a way to destroy the message without drawing Ryenil’s ire. You may not trust me, but I’ll ensure both of our growing families remain safe. As always. Just…for all our sakes, change the inheritance laws.”

Abruptly, the connection cut off.

But not before Toren caught the edge of his brother’s tumultuous emotions.

* * *

It was just as wellthat Sir Macoe had arrived quickly to haul Vesset to the dungeon, for Mehl wanted to strangle the traitor with his bare hands. Not just for the betrayal itself, although that was bad enough, but also for what he’d forced Toren to do. That little bit of opening up to his brother would likely bring disaster when Ber disappointed him yet again. Mehl recited a litany of curses at the thought. Just when Toren had finally cut his brother off completely, all of this happened.

“That should be a bit more settled,” Toren said, no hint of emotion in his voice. “Now, there is business we must consider. In the throne room.”

Ria approached, Ryssa trailing hesitantly behind. “I have another appointment. It’s a short one, though.”

“Shall we have a little visit with Vesset?” Mehl asked before his husband’s frown could form into a denial.

Toren hesitated, his gaze sweeping the room. “Although I wish to interrogate him, I am not sure that I wish to delay this.”

“Oh,” Ria said.

Seeing the way her shoulders slumped, Mehl decided to intervene. Yes, they needed to see if they could do something about the inheritance challenge, but it could wait long enough for their wife to complete her business. He wasn’t certain he could focus without forcing the truth out of the healer himself.

“The more knowledge we have of any plots, the better,” Mehl argued. “Feref and Macoe can escort Ria to the throne room for safety’s sake after seeing Ryssa to her room.”

The princess was wise enough to give ready assent, and after only a moment, Toren relented. After kissing Ria goodbye, he and Toren left as quickly as they dared without causing concern. But they didn’t head directly toward the dungeons. First, they went first to their bedroom to change into simpler clothes. He had a feeling that his husband wanted this trip to the dungeon to be a quiet one.

A hunch that proved correct. Instead of marching through the main corridors, he and Toren stuck to lesser-used hallways, even slipping down one of the staircases used by the palace guards instead of going near the formal receiving rooms. Though a few onlookers no doubt spotted them, Mehl kept up a carefully light conversation about plans for their coming wedding.

Truly a waste, for he wouldn’t remember a word of it.

Unlike Princess Tes, Vesset had been imprisoned two levels down, the nicest available for non-nobles. Few of the cells were used on any level these days, but this floor traditionally held diplomats, merchants, priests, and other high-ranking commoners. Ria’s father was on the far end, in fact, but as with Vesset, it wasn’t a courtesy. These cells were sealed with solid doors—and magic—preventing communication with anyone.

Mehl entered the room ahead of Toren. Although his husband tried to step up beside him, Mehl kept his body angled just in front as Vesset stood up from his bedroll. The healer’s shoulders drooped, and grief lined his downturned face. He remained silent, not even bothering to plead.

“Tell me,” Toren commanded.

To Mehl’s surprise, Vesset nodded. “I will do so. Freely, if you meant what you said about helping my son.”

Mehl sucked in a breath. “You would dare—”