Page 23

Chapter

Twenty

Grahame

“ W hat have you done to your hair?”

Yrsa stood before them in borrowed tunic and trousers, her hair no longer uneven. The light strands had been cut to her jawline, framing her face in a fetching manner. With her blade of a nose, the haircut made Yrsa appear sharper, like a sword whetted on a stone.

“I improved it,” Yrsa said, twirling a short handled blade between her fingers.

Grahame had no idea where she procured the blade from. He assumed none of Adara’s men were careless enough to allow it. Yet there she was, with a knife, running a hand through the freshly washed hair.

“I helped.”

Muretta stood near the washing basin that had been brought in. She was no worse for wear and did not cower before the towering woman. Grahame tensed. He offered a hooked brow of suspicion.

Yrsa shrugged. “She helped.”

“You gave her a knife ?” Adara demanded of Muretta.

Muretta shrugged as she moved around Yrsa, a grin pasted on her heart-shaped mouth. Her skirts swam with her quick, bird-like movements. Grahame doubted Hagan was aware Muretta had snuck in. He had half a mind to tell the man.

“You assured me she was not a danger.” Her shrug made Adara seem silly for asking. “She didn’t stab me.”

“Not something I want you to find out the hard way,” Adara snapped, stepping forward with a hand stretched toward Muretta’s.

Muretta offered Yrsa a beatific smile before stepping around her.

“Muretta, please retreat to your rooms. I would like you to be as safe as possible.”

Muretta nodded, offering a small curtsy, then left the room, though not before her curious eyes scoured the inches between Grahame and Adara.

Yrsa stepped forward, a hand on her hip, knife gripped loosely in the other.

“Interesting company you keep, Lady,” Yrsa said, nearing.

As if pulled by a rope, Grahame angled his body in front of Adara’s.

Yrsa’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, well.” She wrinkled her nose. “What a development, Golden Boy! I wondered earlier who you would defend if the time came, and it seems I have my answer.”

Grahame shot a deep breath out his nose to stop the reeling sensation that overtook him. He clenched his jaw over the protest that he would not choose between them. Yrsa was no fool.

“Are you here to inflict pain? Or is my husband here to collect me?” Yrsa asked. She blinked innocently as she spoke.

Adara released a breathy chuckle beside him.

It struck Grahame to his marrow. Desire and hope and worry fought for dominance within him.

There was no way out of this. Adara had done horrible things to his people.

Yet he wished he had the words to stay Ridley.

His own uselessness in the whole endeavour struck him dumb, even as his entire body felt like an iron rod as he readied to throw himself between the women should they try to gut one another.

“Indeed. Your husband has garnered much loyalty in his earldom. More men have come to set you free.”

Yrsa’s grin widened as she gestured to the room around her. Her eyes sparkled in a manner that had Grahame pressing himself into Adara’s side.

“Shall I take any requests before I am granted my freedom? Or is your intent to kill me and have my husband raze your home to the ground?”

“Now Yrsa, you know I would not assume either outcome so quickly.” Adara’s own grin widened to match Yrsa’s. She tried to shake off Grahame, something Yrsa tracked.

“You seem to have garnered some loyalty of your own, Lady Clayton.” She raised a light eyebrow in the direction of Grahame’s hand locked around Adara’s wrist, her stormy eyes straying to his for a moment.

Grahame tried to ignore the flash of hurt he saw in them. He was stuck. Surely, Yrsa would understand. She once was torn between her people and her love of Ridley.

She chose Ridley, he thought. Yet would he choose Adara? If there was no bargain, if she’d not attacked his village, if she’d not taken Yrsa? Yes. A thousand times yes.

But after all her misdeeds?

You still would.

Grahame cleared his throat in order to usurp the dark whisper of his thoughts. He tipped up the corner of his mouth in a grin to let Yrsa know he was on her side as well, to insist to himself he was, but she wasn’t paying attention.

Adara flicked the wrist of her free hand as if Yrsa’s words meant nothing. She took another step forward, her shoes clapping against the floorboards.

“Grahame and I have history. Long before you knew him and long before your husband murdered my cousin, we cut our teeth on one another. Thankfully, your cooperation will also determine how he makes it out of this situation.”

Grahame flinched at the callousness with which Adara spoke. As if he were a piece of chattel.

“And what cooperation do you propose?” Yrsa asked, her hands going to her slender hips.

“Your freedom will be guaranteed as long as your husband is willing to dine with us tonight. No siege, no battle, just a reasoning between two opposing parties.”

“He’ll never concede.”

“I have two of his most prized possessions. One of which he gathered an army for. That tells me he is willing to listen, if only to get inside my home to destroy me.”

Something red and hot coated Grahame’s muscles. It was the same instinct he had when he caught sight of the army and had Adara over his shoulder within moments. The urge to throw himself in front of whatever dared harm her. He was going mad.

“Firstly, we are not possessions. Next, why would I bring my husband into your clutches? You’ll kill us both, given the chance.” Yrsa examined her torn nails as she spoke, as if she dealt with the likes of Adara every day.

Adara’s smile was positively feline.

“I guarantee your safety. You have my word. And,” Adara held up her hand, palm out, forcing Grahame to release her, “before you say my word is not worth anything, consider that I’ve kept it the entire time you’ve been here.

No harm came to you, or your husband, as agreed upon in the forest. I’ve simply parted you both for a time. ”

Yrsa’s eyes narrowed, but she did not dispute Adara’s claim.

“I wish to use this opportunity to strike a bargain with your husband,” Adara said, her tone even.

“I thought you wanted him to suffer?” Grahame’s interjection was out before he could close his lips over it.

The women turned to him, as if surprised he was still there. However, Adara’s steely gaze closed off. Irritation with them both itched along the back of his neck. He rubbed at it to halt the sensation.

“Oh, how I wish I could pick him apart. Yet I understand we’ve reached an impasse. Yrsa will be given back, unharmed, under the condition that Ridley Ward does not step foot within Bernira’s border ever again. Too many have suffered under the threat of his proximity.”

Yrsa made a sound of disbelief. Adara spoke louder to override the other woman.

“If he crosses into my territory again, he will be killed. Then I will come after Hyrstow in earnest. As one ruler to another, would you risk your people? Ridley is nothing but a conqueror. One who will not win a fight against Bernira.”

“Why should I believe that you will allow us to leave? You hold Grahame here against his will.”

Adara waved another dismissive hand in his direction. To his horror, the gesture cut. After he’d told her of his suffering without her, he was just another thing to be brokered.

“Yes, yes, he is required for a scheme to guarantee I do not marry whom my father has chosen. He will be freed when it works.”

Grahame felt as if he’d been struck in the center of his chest. All the air whooshed out of him as Yrsa nodded, stepping forward with her hand outstretched. As the women shook, hands to the inside of forearms, Grahame simply watched, stunned.

He wanted freedom. He’d been swindled into a marriage he could easily be killed in. And yet the careless manner in which Adara could cast him aside…he wished it didn’t feel like a knife of fire had been buried in his chest. Was he so worthless?

The creaking of the door sliced into the room. Hagan entered, a look of gravity about his face.

“Ridley Ward approaches.”

Adara cleared her throat. “Thank you, Hagan.”

“Come, Golden Boy, let us greet my husband.” Yrsa stepped up to him, patting him on the shoulder as she made to leave. Grahame only stood there, his gaze locked on the back of Adara’s head as she gave direction to Hagan and Thor.

“Yes, Lady Wolf,” he responded.

His heart beat too quick for him to gather his wits, but he kept his smile pasted on as they made their preparations. It was easier than he expected, as he’d worn the mask of joviality all his life. Resolute, Grahame ignored the stab of betrayal he felt every time he looked at his wife.

She didn’t look at him, either.