Page 162 of Dance of Kings and Thieves

“You are always my ambassador, but with Bracken on the throne, peace with the Southern Kingdom will be simpler than it might’ve been.” Valen glanced toward the longship holding Herja. “She worries. We all do. It has been many tumultuous turns, and I know it would put us at ease if you were close to Gunnar during preparations. I don’t know if you realize, but you are the only one not vowed to me, and who does not share my blood, that I trust most.”

Gods. Gods.All gods.

Each word pierced the thing deep in my chest. I’d been alone for so long before Valen and Elise Ferus. True, I’d been surrounded by rebels, but had always been detached in a way. Distant.

To have my respect and love for them returned choked my constant words from my throat for a few breaths.

In the end, I did nothing more than dip my chin in a nod and say, “I would be honored.”

Valen clapped me on the shoulder, but his smile was burdened.

“Is there something else?” I asked.

His dark eyes drifted to the longship I would be using. My insides twisted up in the sharp, jagged briars. Saga was already boarded, her wrists bound. She stood by the stempost, letting the sea breeze toss her dark hair around her face.

Her eyes were closed, and I hated how much I wanted to know what she was thinking.

“I know what it is like to be enslaved, Ari.”

Of the things Valen could’ve said, none would’ve cut deeper than that swift reminder that my friends were tortured for centuries.

“Should I have let her die?”

Valen let out a long sigh. “There were days I wish I would’ve been granted death.”

“Gods.” I dragged my fingers through my hair, a boil of frustration bloomed in my chest. “It is not as if I will curse the woman as you were cursed.”

“What will you do with her?”

“I-I don’t know. Have her polish my boots. Bring me warm milk when I can’t sleep. Perhaps she will comb my hair.”

“You’re trying to jest. A habit of yours when you are not comfortable,” Valen said, grinning knowingly. I took it back. I did not love my king like a brother anymore. Valen held my uneasy stare. “You are one of the best men I know, Ari.”

“Oh, you misspoke. I believe you meant to say Iamthe best man you know.”

“All I’m saying is I would hate to watch bitterness and your own hatred turn you into someone you are not.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I know you keep things from us. Pains from life, perhaps? Fears? I don’t know, but I know you do not care for that woman.” Valen glanced at Saga again. “All I ask is that my friend does not become a cruel master and ease his own pain by causing pain for another.”

A ram’s horn bellowed from Halvar’s lead warship.

“Write to us when you reach the South, tell us you are safe. We will see you at the vows soon.” Valen pulled me into an embrace.

“I will come for the child,” I said, voice rough. “I mean, I will come to see my new prince or princess. Take care of your wife, or I might steal her away.”

Valen laughed. “The woman will have all her wants and needs met. Keep my nephew safe and perhaps we will name our child Ari.”

“Really?”

“No.” Valen winked and left me to board the smaller longship bound for the Southern seas.

I boarded the ship, wholly avoiding the stempost area. I was the commanding voice onboard and gave the orders to one of Bracken’s guards on the route we should use to return. Frey and Axel always traveled with me and had found a bit of comfort in the South as much as I did.

I enjoyed having two faces from home. Frey had been with me since we met as young rebels hidden in the shanties of the North. I’d consider us friends, but neither Frey nor his brother ever asked much about me, not like Elise or Valen did. Not like Malin and Kase.

That must be a requirement of a king or queen. To be nosy.