“Do you have a secondary scheme?”
“Scheme is such an ugly word,” Thalia said, smiling.
“I’ll take that as confirmation. Gavriel would recommend that course even if your prospects were excellent, however. He hates outsiders as much as he lo—”
“Enough,” she cut in.
She left the strategy room, irritated with both Lileth and Gavriel. Lil enjoyed needling her and after everything he’d suffered, Gavriel appeared to be ready to snap. She sympathized with him, and the orders she’d given regarding the leopard king in exile haunted her to this day. Sometimes the doubts grew teeth and chewed at her, whispering that since she’d already allowed her people to be killed at the retreat and permitted her father to unleash so much devastation, maybe she should—
No. Quitting wasn’t an option. It never would be. She hadn’t spent a decade locked away at Riverwind to turn tail now. Thalia passed through Daruvar, her footsteps echoing on the ancient stones. Occasionally she received a scrambled bow by a staffer startled to find her proceeding alone.
In her private quarters, she found messages waiting from two scouts in the field, footage to sort through from patrol drones, and an apology from the bear clan lieutenant. Still nothing from the cursed wolves. Sighing, she replied with orders, spent two hours scanning video, and then answered politely to the overture from the bears. While the marriage wasn’t happening, it served no purpose to burn bridges.
Just then, her phone pinged with an urgent-coded message and Gavriel’s face popped up. “We have movement on the border. Come to the battlements straightaway.”
Daruvar sat proudly atop the cliff known as Widow’s Watch. This was a keep in every sense of the word with defenders on the ramparts, ready for action. Watchmen with silver lights also stood guard in each of the four towers, built at points north, south, east, and west. There would be a courtyard inside, Raff guessed, and a warren of corridors and secret chambers. The place must be drafty as hell, built from gray and crumbling stones no doubt quarried nearby and built by ancestors Thalia could recite by name.
Few modern amenities.
With a sheer, impassable rock face behind, crashing water below, Raff understood why the Eldritch princess had chosen to make her stand here. There was only one approach, and Eldritch scouts had been surveilling his group for several hours, keeping them under close watch. They had been traveling without urgency, breaking the journey into two days, because the roads were old and poorly maintained, jouncing his party until even Mags swore through clacking teeth.
“We’re almost there,” he said, stifling a smile.
“Don’t smirk at me, wolf.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
At the top of the steep incline, the cracked asphalt simply stopped, yielding to loose gravel, which in turn ended in Daruvar’s walls, perforated liberally with artillery slits. There was a single gate of black iron, scored from old battles and rusted where it had been damaged. The Rover juddered to a stop and Raff didn’t wait for the all-clear. If Thalia opened fire, that meant the marriage was off.
He vaulted down and keyed her code into his phone. “The wolf is at your door, Lady Silver. Will you let him in?”
Thalia made a choked noise. The call dropped without the Eldritch woman speaking a word to him, and from somewhere behind him, Mags groaned, almost loud enough to challenge the grind of gears as the gates opened. The doors were wide enough to permit their vehicles to pass inside to the inner bailey, a crisscross of green and pavement. After they parked, the doors shut with a final-sounding clang. Though it was near dusk, no electric lights dispelled the darkness, just the flicker of portable solar lanterns.
“Not my best line?” he asked, grinning at Mags.
“Probably among your five worst.”
“But the gates opened nonetheless. Should we wait for the welcome party?”
“Don’t expect champagne,” she muttered.
Raff hadn’t liked leaving Korin on her own so soon after their losses at Hallowell, but he couldn’t afford to have all wolf leadership away from Pine Ridge at this critical time, and he shouldn’t need his second to complete a courtship mission that was more of a corporate merger. The time he spent here might be tedious, but it should strengthen Pine Ridge for the battles to come.
He milled around with the rest of his small entourage, no more than five minutes before Thalia appeared in black trousers and matching belted jacket. Her hair was twisted in a careless updo and atop that, she wore a winter cap. Currently, she looked more like a spy than a princess, and the idea kindled his imagination.
“Sorry to keep you standing in the cold,” Thalia said. “But unfortunately, I had no notice of your arrival. Perhaps your response was lost in the ether?”
“I wanted to surprise you, but somehow you seem less than delighted. Don’t you enjoy the unexpected, Lady Silver?”
“Not even a little.” Her eyes pierced him, sparks of ire not shown in her buttery voice. “Come inside. I’ve requested that they lay the table for guests, but I fear you may find our hospitality wanting due to lack of preparation.”
She’s testy. This will be fun.
“I did note the lack of dried herbs and wreaths, there’s no quartet caroling best wishes for our health and prosperity, and you haven’t spoken a single ceremonial word in greeting.”
Thalia paused. “Since this isn’t an occasion of state, I didn’t think you would wish to participate in the formal rite of hearth and home.”
In fact, she looked a little surprised that he even knew about it. Raff figured that he probably should be offended, but it was so much fun to bait her that he decided not to pursue the issue. “It’s fine. I know my part by heart, though. I’m not quite the barbarian that you seem to suppose.”
Her fair cheeks pinked, though that might be the icy
