Page 25 of A Frozen Pyre (Villains #2)
Samael’s face remained neutral as he said, “I think you can trust my judgment enough to believe me when I say that I share what’s relevant and withhold that which would openly distract or be disruptive.
As siblings, we were born with shared gifts.
The blessing of preternatural discernment is not allowing blood to cloud decisions.
I can tell you with some confidence that neither she nor I would advise any monarch to meet a kingdom in open war.
And if I were her, I would advise Ceneth to stand down.
Now, if Tarkhany is at his door, his hand may be forced. ”
Eero’s eyes narrowed. With thinly veiled hostility, he asked, “Am I to be wary that your twin is advising a potential enemy in the kingdom you call home?”
“An enemy?” Ophir blanched. “I know you wouldn’t have deemed him such in Caris’s presence, and he’s done nothing to gain your mistrust. In fact, he may be the only honorable man in this castle.”
Eero’s fist-banging, red-faced outrage was interrupted by his advisor.
Unperturbed as ever, Samael said, “It would be unwise to draw a correlation where one does not exist. Neither Onain nor I call this kingdom home. We’ve sworn separate fealties and duties to advise, not to sway with an agenda.
Might I suggest we stick to facts and not project mistrust upon our allies? ”
Ophir found the tie interesting, if irrelevant. She was fine leaving, but not with her father leading with his temper. The meeting wouldn’t fall to distractions while she was present.
Intent to get them back on track, she asked, “Would you go to war with Tarkhany?”
“Absolutely not,” Samael said. “Sometimes, however, war comes to us. It’s wise to be prepared.”
Cybele grabbed her hand again, squeezing it gently.
Ophir flinched at the unexpected contact. This time, she openly grimaced at the woman as she shook free of the unwanted contact.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cybele apologized. “I’m prone to touch as my language of comfort, whether I realize it or not.”
“Cybele came with a wedding present,” Eero said. Perhaps the news of Samael and his sister was too much for the king to handle at one dinner. She kept her eyes on Samael for a moment, though he remained unbothered.
She scowled at her father in response, but he jutted his chin toward the woman who sat beside her, insisting upon the present.
Cybele procured two small boxes. She slipped her fingernail into the crack of one and popped it open to reveal the treasure within. She gazed upon the oval-cut ruby with glassy white diamonds set on a gold band.
“That one’s yours, dear. Take a peek at Ceneth’s.”
Ophir opened the second box. The masculine band was adorned with a sapphire, two black diamonds flanking it.
“I had them made with a manufacturer,” Cybele said, voice sugar-sweet in an obnoxious attempt at being soothing. “They’re excellent tools for connection between husband and wife. These rings help to strengthen bonds.”
Ophir turned her skeptical frown to her father.
He said, “Your sister desired unity, correct? This ring will help you be more like her. After the wedding, your rings will help join your will. That being said, if you need an ally, he’ll be compelled to oblige.”
Ophir blanched at the gift. She shoved back from the table, head ringing. “You want me to not only marry this shattered man, but to—what—brainwash him?”
“Ophir, sit down,” her father said. “This is a marvelous gift.”
“This isn’t how Caris wanted it,” Ophir said. She took a step back. “You’re bastardizing her dream.”
Harland got to his feet, pleading with her. “Firi,” he said, “it’s not as bad as it sounds. This could protect the continent. You’d be the most powerful person in all the kingdoms.”
She gawked at him as if he’d grown a third eye.
“Are you trying to be reassuring? What’s wrong with you?
This isn’t what I want.” She shook her head so hard that it ached.
“I want Caris back, and it’s goddess-damned impossible.
But if I can’t have her, I can hurt those who did this to her.
The rest? This chessboard? These wars of puppets and fools?
Leave me out of it. I’m no pawn in your game. ”
“Firi,” Harland urged. He reached for her again, but she smacked away his hand.
“Samael?” she asked of the man. “Are you truly an advisor if you believed this was a good idea?”
Samael looked calmly between her and the king before saying, “One might hope that wisdom would preclude suspicion, but such is not always the case. Acting in assumption of the worst-case scenario might become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’ve shared my feelings with King Eero, and he knows my stance on any actions based in fear. ”
Her eyes narrowed at his riddle of a nonanswer, though she supposed he’d done as much to defy her father as he dared while remaining one of the king’s most trusted men.
He’d more or less said that it was a horrible idea, though in the most political way she could fathom.
She glared at the still-smiling Cybele, then looked at Harland.
He remained on his feet, hand outstretched, pain etched across his features.
“I’m finished,” she said. Ophir headed toward the door.
“Ophir?” her father called.
She paused without turning, palm flat against the dining room’s heavy door.
“You don’t have to accept the terms, but please, for your kingdom and your people, don’t tell anyone of this conversation.”
She’d allowed him the kindness of a final word, and it had been more than he deserved. She did not look over her shoulder as the door slammed behind her.