Page 3 of Dance of Kings and Thieves

Gunnar’s mouth dropped. “You swore you’d never call me that.”

“I lied.”

Valen took a lungful of night air as he stepped further onto the beach. “Niklas was right, it does reek like piss here.”

A woman went to the king’s side.

I shook my head through a soft chuckle. If I had not witnessed the woman slit a throat or two, I would think her the least threatening face on land. Hair twisted in braids, she wore a blue woolen gown and seemed to be struggling with her weapon belt.

“Unkind, my love,” she said with a laugh.

“Is she . . . the queen?” Malin asked.

“She is. Elise. Mouthy, pushy, and I urge you not to believe a thing she says about me.”

For the first time, the barest hint of a smile curled on Malin’s lips.

The king’s brother stepped onto the shore next. He seemed stronger than when I last saw him. Then again, Sol had been enslaved in a curse of madness for centuries when we’d met. Such a thing would weaken anyone. He was followed by Tor, his consort. If anyone would kill for their kingdom it was Tor.

At our first meet, Tor had taken great offense to my briskness toward the queen. His fear for her had me terrified he’d lose control and toss a surprise dagger through my gut.

Now, he grinned and clapped a hand on Sol Ferus’s back, standing close to his side.

“No, Elise,” Sol said, a wrinkle to his nose as he inhaled. “Valen’s right. We’re in a waste bin.”

“Did you come here to insult us or greet us?” Junie shoved forward, laughing.

Malin startled at my side when Elise let out a shriek and ran forward.

“Get used to her,” I muttered. “She is not like any royal we know. She’s a barbarian.”

Gunnar overheard me and laughed. “Oh, I’m telling her you said that.”

“Are you no longer a Kryv?” I pounded a fist into his shoulder blade, enjoying when he winced. “Or are you back to being a pampered royal?”

“Pampered? I was born into—”

“Captivity, we know,” Lynx interrupted, joining us at the water’s edge. “But just know, if you turn pompous, I refuse to kiss your royal ass, princeling.”

“How dare you.” Gunnar’s mouth dropped, but the joy in his eyes was undeniable. He continuously stole glances at the water where his parents continued to embrace as soldiers stomped around them, choosing to ignore their passion.

Junius’s movement spurred the rest of the guilds to hurry to the water’s edge.

“Ah, I recall you three hold your ale particularly well. I expect to share a few drinks.” Halvar, the first knight, said as he clasped forearms with Raum, Niklas, then Tova.

“There’s the ambassador,” Malin said.

I swallowed the knot in my throat as Ari Sekundär stepped into the moonlight.

He laughed at Hagen and Herja, but his eyes found me almost immediately. One brow raised, he pointed a finger at my chest, then back to his before he went to stand beside Sol and Tor.

We did not know each other well, but I knew enough he’d want to discuss our last interaction. The one where I threatened to behead him because I could not recall his face.

Ari faced the sea again. “Princess Herja! I do love a good romp of passion, but I fear you will drown.”

Hagen finally sat upright.

The flicker of lantern-light on the ships cast a glow over Herja’s face. She was breathless and seemed to remember they were not alone. The princess was lovely. Soft, but strong. She shared the same tanned complexion as the king of the North, but not the fae ears.