Page 27 of A Frozen Pyre (Villains #2)

Dwyn raked her eyes over him slowly. She appraised him from head to toe before saying, “Are you sure you’re ready to get started? The high and mighty Tyr thinks he can stain his hands? Once you start, there’s no going back.”

Tyr narrowed his eyes. “There’s more blood on my hands than you realize.”

Dwyn looked off to the side, unimpressed. “There’s a huge difference between what you do and what I do.”

“Are you going back on your deal?” he asked.

The sound of water stopped. Dwyn took a step closer, lowering her voice as she said, “I’ll honor the agreement. You’ve held up your end of the bargain…mostly.”

“Mostly?”

Dwyn made a disgusted face. “As if you didn’t conceal yourself and lie to me—as if you didn’t force Ophir to lie for you.” She sucked on her teeth before raising her eyes to meet him. “Did you say the woman’s name was Cybele?”

His mouth twisted to the side at the sudden change of subject. “Yes,” he said. “Why?”

She sank to the bed, leaning her head against one of its tall, ornate posts as she looked into the middle distance. The frown leached from her face into her posture. Her skin, normally smattered with gold, faded into a ghostly shade of pale gray.

His eyes flashed to the closed bathing room door, then back to the siren. “Tell me.”

Her eyes darkened. They seemed heavier, somehow. An eerie vacancy rang through her voice as she quietly repeated, “Cybele? You’re sure that’s the woman’s name?”

“Yes. Why? What do you know?”

Dwyn’s expression was unreadable. “And she sat beside Ophir? The woman touched her? She touched Ophir?”

He stepped until there was little more than an arm’s length between them. He blinked down at where she remained sunken into the mattress, confusion thick in his tone as he repeated his question. “Yes, she grabbed her hand throughout the dinner. What is it?”

She shook her head before saying, “I need to ask you a favor, and I need you to believe me when I say it has nothing to do with jealousy. This is important, Tyr.”

“What?”

She looked at the door as if watching the princess behind its wooden barrier, undoubtedly scrubbing herself with soap and sponges and rags until she was clean of the exhausting day.

Dwyn continued to stare, lost in thought for a long moment before she responded.

She didn’t lift her eyes as she said, “Tyr, whatever you do, you can’t sleep with Firi. ”

“Dwyn—”

“Promise me—no, Tyr. Don’t promise me. Promise Ophir. Whatever you do. It can’t happen again.”

***

Ophir tightened her hold on her towel. Damp tendrils soaked the cloth as she looked suspiciously from Dwyn to Tyr. “Why aren’t you two fighting?”

Dwyn smirked, while Tyr said, “Excuse me?”

Ophir leaned into the door frame. “There is no circumstance where I see the two of you being civil, and now you’re both just sitting here? What happened while I was in the bath?”

Dwyn cast a pointed brow toward Tyr.

He glared back before saying, “Convincing Dwyn that you were not to blame for my secrecy included the caveat that I would stop making our issues your problem.”

Ophir looked skeptically at Dwyn.

Dwyn, still reclining on the bed, merely shrugged.

“You’re not going to fight because it’s not good for me? Where the hell was that mentality before?”

Dwyn lowered her eyes to her nails, pressing on her cuticles as she inspected each finger. “Ask your dog.”

Tyr blew out a loud breath. “We’re…trying. Some of us harder than others.”

Ophir tilted her head against the doorway, gentle droplets of clean water splashing from her hair to the floor below. She said, “I was thinking about you while I was in the bath.”

It was met with equal parts delight from Tyr and disdain from Dwyn.

“Not like that,” Ophir said, exhaustion heavy.

“If word is spreading of your presence, then we need to stage an arrival. You’re going to have to show up at the castle’s front door.

You were last spotted in Tarkhany, so you can come in through the forest. Zita and her retinue must have used the door.

I created a boulder to block it, but I’ve learned a very important lesson on the difference between dissuasion and destruction.

I think you need to make your entrance no later than tomorrow’s breakfast.”

Dwyn flopped backward onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling as she said, “Without the door, we’d just be sitting in anticipation for another month of travel before we had this war of kings and queens. At least this way we could get the meeting over with. Everything’s out in the open.”

“I guess…” Ophir said uncertainly.

Dwyn sat up. “You could end the wars before they begin, you know.”

She frowned from where she leaned. Tyr had also grown strangely still, staring at Dwyn rather than Ophir.

Dwyn leaned forward conspiratorially. “I just mean, you’re more powerful than they realize. You’re more powerful than you realize.”

Ophir shuffled uncomfortably from the bathing room frame to the armoire.

She fished for a nightdress, a robe, and a pair of warm socks.

Despite the fires and the castle’s enchantments, the early signs of winter brought chill into the very air.

She ignored Dwyn entirely as she disappeared into the bathing room to change.

By the time Dwyn reemerged, she had an announcement.

“So, Tyr, are you ready to make your debut?”