Page 52 of Dance of Kings and Thieves

A woman screamed when I dragged the head of Edvard out by the hair, spiked it on the hilt of his sword, then tossed the sack into the pen. A few fingers spilled out, and the people scrambled away from it like it might catch fire.

I stood behind the sword and head, smirking at what remained of House Vill. “Sleep well.”

Without another glance, I turned away from the pen and went to find my wife.

“Kase.” Hagen called for me. He stood beside Sol, Valen, and Gunnar, and gave the spiked head a single, discomposed glance before looking back to me. “You might want to wash.”

Hagen gestured at a wooden tub. Steam rose off the surface from the chill in the air.

I shoved my way between them. “I want to see Malin.Now.”

“She’s being looked after,” Hagen said. “She’s even talking now. But you’re a bleeding mess. Literally.”

A surge of relief swelled in my chest. With a glance at Valen, I handed him his bloodied axe. “I’ll clean it later.”

“Take care of your wife. I’m king and will make my brother clean it.”

“I would like to see you try,” Sol said. The Sun Prince looked at me from head to foot. “I’m not averse to gore, but even I’d wipe a bit of the bone off your face before you see her.”

Sol handed me his polished sword to use as a mirror. They weren’t wrong. My face was painted in dark streaks of red. The whites of my eyes were the only bright thing about me. Hair stuck to my forehead. I looked as if I’d truly bathed in a tub of innards.

Irritated at the delay, I went to the icy tub and cleaned my face enough that blood no longer dripped in my eyes. Hagen brought me a clean tunic, but that was the limit before I demanded someone take me to Malin.

I was guided toward one of the smaller longhouses. Inside, Tova nearly collided with me, a steaming horn of something minty in her hands. “Gods. You look like death.”

“You should ask Edvard Vill what that truly looks like,” I grumbled.

“She’s weak, Kase. But she’ll be fine.” Tova held out the horn. “Take this to her, make her drink it quickly. It’ll help.”

I glanced at the murky drink. Tova wasn’t the most skilled Mediski, but she’d grown a talent with herbs. And she was leaving without me asking. Tova knew me as well as anyone and would know I’d need to be alone with Malin without anyone hovering.

I could’ve kissed her as she backed out of the longhouse.

Elise, Herja, Inge, and Niklas were in the back room, huddled over a large bed.

“Oh. You’re . . . finished.” Elise’s eyes widened as she studied my bloody hands and the stains on my neck and face.

I dipped my chin, then turned to Inge. “Your brother is dead.”

Inge didn’t look at me with hatred, not even sadness. She merely said, “My family is not found at House Vill, Nightrender.”

“Kase.”

I was ashamed by the shudder in my breath at Malin’s voice. Niklas and Herja pulled away from the bed, and Malin’s bright—very alive—eyes locked on mine. She was sitting up in the bed, but her arms still drooped by her sides.

Careful not to spill Tova’s tea, I crept over the furs on the mattress.

Malin smiled weakly. “You look rather terrifying, Nightrender.”

“Fitting. This night has been terrifying.” I kissed her gently and pressed my brow to hers. “Forget what I said about right moves. We should go and never look back.”

Malin chuckled. “I have horrid news about fleeing.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Malin bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile. “You see, the Southern Kingdom has joined our enemies. I’m afraid they’d find us eventually. Possibly attack our friends in the North.”

“Doesn’t need to be our problem. We could live as cowards in blissful ignorance somewhere high in the hills of the North. Become mountain folk who never see any other faces.”