Page 51

“You are marrying Princess Frida!” He’s practically spitting at me with rage, his eyes blazing, and for the first time I see the fear inside him.

It’s like I’m viewing my father from outside the room, a stranger peering through the window, and it’s clear as day that this news, this betrayal at my behest, is terrifying him.

He’s truly afraid of losing Altus Dugrell, which makes me think everything is a lot more dire than he’s ever let on.

“This is your one and only duty in your life, Andor,” my father says through grinding teeth. “Don’t you dare think you have agency. Don’t you dare think you can fuck this up for me, for your family.”

“I’m not fucking up anything,” I say. I ignore the derisive snort that my uncle lets out. “Not this time. I have something we can offer the royal family that’s even greater than my hand in marriage.”

“You have nothing, nephew,” my uncle says with a tired sigh. “Nothing to offer at all. Even your gifts, well, they never amounted to much, did they?”

I could fucking kill him. For the second time this morning I wonder how much trouble I’d get in for murdering my uncle. Death sentence? Or a prison I could one day escape from? Maybe the latter could be worth it.

My father gives him an icy look, but that’s as far as he’ll go to reprimand him. I know he often thinks the same thing, about how I’d fallen so short when it counted.

He faces me and frowns. “What in dragon’s fire could we offer them if not you?”

“I wasn’t aware you thought so highly of me,” I say bitterly.

“Don’t let it go to your head. You know your betrothal to the princess has been in the works for a long time. That is your contribution to the family.”

“But what if I could contribute more? What if you could contribute more, to ensure the kingdom is united? What if this family not only strengthened the realm but strengthened us against Dalgaard and everyone else out there who wants a piece of the pie?”

My father blinks at me, slowly shaking his head as if he can’t believe he’s still talking to me. “Out with it, then.”

“We steal the egg of immortality,” I say simply.

His blinking continues.

My uncle laughs. “Ridiculous. The thing doesn’t exist.”

“So people say,” I tell them. “But I have it on good authority that it does exist and there’s one being kept at the convent of the Daughters of Silence.”

“Is that right?” my father says, brow raised as he walks back to his desk. “And whose good opinion is that? The purple-haired girl?”

I shake my head. “No. Her aunt.”

“The one you left to die?” my father says.

For fuck’s sake. I grind my teeth together, hating that he knows exactly how to get to me. “I didn’t leave her to die. She was already dead. And both Brynla and I would be dead too if I hadn’t acted fast.”

“So her aunt is the one who says this egg exists?” he asks. “And what does Brynla say?”

I gnaw on my lip for a moment, trying to ignore the growing shame. “Brynla doesn’t know,” I say carefully. “The aunt told me in confidence. She was quite certain the egg exists, that it’s being held there, and that it’s possible for Brynla to steal it, given her inside knowledge of the convent.”

“Quite certain isn’t good enough.”

“Well, it fucking should be,” I say. “When it comes to suen with the power to make you immortal, to have you live forever, then it should be. Just listen to yourself. You’re waving this off when you should be jumping at this opportunity. Send us to Esland and we’ll bring it back. If we don’t…”

“If you don’t, it will be because it doesn’t exist,” he says stiffly. “You need to stick to what you’re good at. What about getting the fertilized dragon eggs? You know that Steiner thinks we could have some success breeding our own dragons here.”

I shake my head. “Steiner doesn’t think that, you do. He has his doubts.”

“We won’t know unless he tries.”

“Well, either way, we’re getting the egg of immortality. The dragon breeding experiment can come later.”

“And if you go to Esland you’ll only end up caught and imprisoned by the Black Guard.”

“And if you think we’re going to pull strings to have you pulled out, you have another think coming,” my uncle adds.

“Fine,” I say. “Though I’m sure you’ll do it for Vidar.”

My father’s frame tenses. “What about Vidar?”

“He’s coming with me,” I tell him. “Along with our best men. It’s a heist, Father, one that he was adamant about joining.”

“No,” he says with a violent shake of his head. “I will not risk my heir.”

“But you will risk me?”

He clamps his mouth together for a moment, that fear still present in his eyes. “Vidar is the heir.”

“And I’m disposable. Got it.”

“You are being purposefully obtuse.”

“I’m just calling it as it is,” I say. “And it doesn’t matter, because Vidar is coming with me.

But just remember whose idea it was when we come back with the egg of immortality in hand.

Remember who orchestrated the whole thing when you realize you’ll never die.

Remember this conversation when Altus Dugrell and Norland are bound together, bolstered by a large, undying army. ”

For once both my father and uncle grow silent.

For once they seem to hear me.

And for the first time, I realize the weight of what I just said.

Immortality for us all.

And an army that cannot die.

“Very well,” my father eventually says, clearing his throat as he exchanges a nod with his brother. “But I need you to promise me something, Andor.”

I know better than to promise anything before I’ve heard what it is. I raise my brow in response.

“Once you get the egg—if you do—you are to be done with the purple-haired girl. I want her disposed of.”

I had a feeling it would come to this.

I open my mouth to protest, to tell him I’m not promising him that of all things, but he goes on quickly.

“By being with her, you have disrespected the princess of Altus Dugrell, the girl you were supposed to marry. I should toss the Eslander and her damned dog out of Stormglen right now,” he says.

“The only reason I won’t throw her to the wolves is because you need her for your little heist. But when that need is over, Andor, whether you’ve had your fill of her or not, I won’t let her step foot on our lands.

If you plan to come back with her, then you won’t be welcome either.

Perhaps you should make it easier on yourself and conveniently leave her with the Black Guard in Esland. You’ll need a scapegoat, after all.”

The pulse in my throat pounds as I narrow my eyes at my father. “You know I can’t promise that,” I say, my voice going low.

The corner of his mouth lifts, liking this challenge. “Perhaps not.” He pauses. “But then I’ll just find someone who will.”