Page 10 of Faeling (Monstrous World #4)

The city loomed above her, her little path spilling into a wide packed-earth road that led right to the formidable curtain wall.

The rounded scalloped edifice of the wall was broken only by the eastern gate, manned by a contingent of guards.

The wall itself was four layers thick, successive additions by different chieftains.

The third wall included crenellated ramparts for guards and archers, and conical watchtowers had been built into the fifth wall.

Each layer combined into an impregnable defense, making Balmirra nigh on invincible.

The bridge was drawn and the portcullises lowered at night, but she wasn’t too late to hurry back inside the city.

At the gate, a guard stopped her. They all knew her on sight by now, but she still dutifully lifted the brooch at her neck, the crossed double axes of the king done in silver filigree. The guard nodded at it and waved her past.

She hadn’t gone a handful of steps before she was stopped again.

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up and up into Ulrich’s sneering face.

“Out for a walk, were you?”

Ravenna hid her trembling hands within the folds of her cloak. She’d never faced him down outside the citadel before.

Had he followed her?

“Is that a crime now, lord commander?” she asked.

His nose wrinkled, and without warning, he tugged the cowl from her head.

“Don’t touch me,” she spat, hurriedly stepping outside his reach.

It would take more than that to break her glamour, but the sudden invasion of her space rattled her enough that she had to actively think about maintaining the disguise. Her mother’s face glared right back at the lord commander, an expression Aine rarely if ever made in her own life.

Ulrich only grunted, eyes squinting as if to try and peel away her glamour.

Her guts went cold with the unnerving thought— does he know?

No, that was impossible.

He could suspect whatever he wanted. He couldn’t prove anything.

“Jumpy,” he accused.

“Do you often go around accosting women, commander?”

“You didn’t answer my question. Where were you?”

“You asked me no such thing.”

A tendon in his jaw ticked. “I’m asking you now.”

Ravenna opened her mouth to tell him he hadn’t, in fact, asked her then either but thought better of it. She had promised Oberon, and keeping herself safe didn’t start with a night in the citadel’s dark, dank dungeon.

“As you say, I went for a walk.”

“All day?”

Ravenna smiled nastily. “Anxious for my return, were you?”

“You test my patience, wench. You may have the ear of our king, but that means nothing if I believe you to be a threat.”

“I’m no such thing,” she hissed. “I have only ever been loyal to our king. I’ve served him faithfully.”

Ulrich grunted again, nostrils flaring. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

Ravenna refused to rise to his bait, for she knew she’d done nothing to endanger or threaten King Vallek. Claimed or not, she would never seek to harm her own azai .

Ulrich was all hot air. The more concerning thing was why he made his threats and insinuations now?

“I don’t know how to convince you, lord commander. That is something between you and your conscience. Now, are we done? I’m tired from my walk.”

Leaning down, he leveled his gaze with hers. “Next time, don’t go out so far or so long.”

Biting her cheek so hard it nearly bled, Ravenna nodded.

He didn’t move from her path, but he also didn’t stop her when Ravenna righted her cowl and resumed walking, leaving a wide berth between them.

—mountain mist—a hundred thundering feet—blood sprayed upon the cliff-face—a commander’s cry—

Ravenna halted as quickly as she’d started, the vision passing over her sight.

It was a more enigmatic set of images, but she could extrapolate enough that she turned to meet his scowl again.

The smile she gave him was downright evil, and she relished how his scowl slipped just a little with unease at the sight.

“I would avoid cliffs in future if I were you, my lord. Good evening.”

Vallek was just finishing his work looking over missives from the townships around Lake Lovath when Ulrich found him.

It was already fairly late, and Brynhíl had been good enough to bring his dinner to where he worked in the smaller council chamber.

The remains of his food sat further down the table, his papers arrayed before him.

Fishing estimates were good, with hearty numbers of trout and pike, and taxes were flowing smoothly. Only a handful of criminal cases had needed his attention, as well as a few proposed town laws. All in all, the region of the southern Griegens was thriving, and Vallek was damn proud of it.

So when Ulrich came marching through the door, that burr-in-his-boot look on his face, Vallek could only sigh and bid his good mood farewell.

Pouring himself an indulgent second cup of his preferred sweet wine, Vallek said, “Good evening, lord commander.”

For some reason, his greeting made Ulrich’s eye twitch. Still, his friend was nothing if not a stickler for protocol and quickly regained his composure, bowing his head. “My king.”

“Drink?”

“No, my king, but thank you.”

Vallek arched a brow. “Well, out with it. What have you to say?”

Ulrich’s lips thinned between his tusks in the way they did whenever he was about to tell Vallek something he didn’t want to hear.

“I am newly returned from the wall, my king. I received word that the soothsayer left through the eastern gate late this morning.”

Vallek set down his goblet, the wine in his belly turning acidic. “Where is she now?”

“She’s returned to her chamber.”

He nodded, not quite understanding where his second was going with this information. “And is this the first time she’s left the city?”

“No, my king. She seems to venture outside every few days.”

“And what did she have to say about her adventures?”

A sneer twisted Ulrich’s lips, an expression Vallek found disturbing. His second was usually so composed and matter-of-fact, so to see such a venomous look alarmed him.

“Nothing of use, of course. She’s slippery, never giving a straight answer.”

Vallek made a noncommittal noise in his throat.

He wasn’t surprised, given how little the soothsayer liked his second.

For whatever reason, the two of them had never liked each other.

Vallek didn’t require his friends and allies to like each other, but they did have to work toward their common goal.

If that was compromised by rivalry or enmity, then it became his problem.

Considering his second carefully, he asked, “What is it you suspect her of?”

Face pinched, Ulrich admitted, “I don’t know yet, my king. But there is something about her I mistrust.” Straightening, he met Vallek’s gaze gravely. “I ask for your permission to question her further and again send inquiries to our contacts in the border villages about her.”

His immediate instinct was to deny the request. The rejection clamored in his throat, far more vehement than it had any right to be.

Ulrich’s reasoning was sound—it had always been Vallek who’d been less careful about the soothsayer.

Anyone else would have required far more inquiries into her background to be allowed so close to him.

That wasn’t to say Ulrich hadn’t already made such inquiries. He had—and found nothing. Suspiciously nothing.

Eydis too had sussed out what she could about the human seer and gotten just as far. Yet, she’d never harbored any great suspicions about her. “I like her well enough,” she’d once said, “and if she meant you any harm, we would have found out by now.”

So Vallek had grown complacent, choosing to ignore any possibility that his soothsayer was anything but a kindly human woman in his service.

He liked her.

That was the root of it.

But, as he should well know by now, fondness and affection couldn’t supersede caution and good sense for a king.

“You truly think she’s a threat to me?”

Likely sensing hesitation where there hadn’t been before, Ulrich’s eyes gleamed, and he stepped forward, nodding zealously. “I cannot yet say whether she’s a true threat, but there is much she hasn’t told us. We must know if anything in her past could pose a danger to you.”

Again, Vallek wished to tell Ulrich no. To leave it alone.

And yet, he couldn’t get the previous night from his head. No, I don’t see your bride .

How could she not see? Or why did she choose not to look?

His beast wouldn’t let him believe he was destined to occupy his throne and bed alone forever, and neither did his mind.

The position of queen, of ruling beside him, was perhaps the single most influential political tool he had, and he couldn’t afford to waste it.

So why didn’t she see?

“You may ask her more questions and look further into the matter,” he said. “But you will do so discreetly and with all due respect.”

He hated the words the moment they left his mouth, even softened as they were with his caveat to be civil.

Even more, he hated the triumphant grin Ulrich wore. Vallek wanted to punch it right off his face.

Reaching for his goblet, Vallek downed the rest of his wine in one gulp. He needed his magnificent bed and a long night’s sleep if he was truly wishing to strike his oldest friend over a matter so small.

But even with the wine and Ulrich’s departure, Vallek and his beast found no solace from the prickle of regret already itching beneath his skin. Grumpily, he suspected he wouldn’t until the matter was resolved.