Carter’s gaze narrowed. “Devendra and Mortise, allies? That seems unlikely.”
“Most of the Mortisian nobles are against it,” Liam said. “But Desfan is insistent, as is King Newlan. The betrothal agreement will be signed before summer’s end, in Mortise.”
Tyrell snorted. “Newlan is a fool. Doesn’t he realize Desfan will stab him in the back?”
“Of course he does,” Carter said, beady eyes darting to their father;he was alwayseager toshowoff.“He’llincreasetradebetween the kingdoms and use Devendra’s armies as a shield when we invade. They must know the great war is coming and they fear us.”
Peter shot his brother a look. “You forget what Prince Desfan stands to lose. The support of his court, if they truly are against the alliance, and the revenue of a higher tax. Devendra depends on Mortisian ports and the tax is heavy in favor of Mortise. If they become allies, those taxes will be lessened and Desfan will lose coin. So will the nobles and merchants in his kingdom.”
“If we decide to attack Mortise by water, we’ll take them all by surprise,” Tyrell said from beside Grayson. “Then Devendra’s army would do Mortise no good.”
Liam shrugged. “In the end, both sides gain something with the marriage, despite the losses. I doubt there will be any double-crossing between the royals. The nobles and merchants, however, will probably prove different.”
Carter looked to the king. “We need to either challenge the alliance, or condone it. Publically.”
“Why get involved in the politics now?” Tyrell asked.
“Because we can play this to our advantage.” Peter leaned forward on his throne, arms resting on his spread legs, hands pressed together. “We could send a representative to Mortise to congratulate the union. Perhaps dangle the thought of entering peace talks ourselves. Then we play them against each other. Princess Serene and Prince Desfan are strangers—we estrange them further. Goad the nobles into attacking each other, or better yet, attack their leaders. Let them tear each other apart. Weaken them at the heart so both kingdoms fall more easily to us when the time comes.”
Liam frowned, considering his words.“It won’t be easy. They’ll suspect us and our sudden attempt to play the friend.”
The king braced an elbow on the throne’s arm. “I’ll think on this. You may all go.”
Grayson was the first to stand, but he froze when Henri lifted his chin. “Grayson, you stay.”
The back of his neck prickled as his brothers walked from the room. His nerves tightened further when even Iris stepped down from the dais. She gave him a thin smile as she drifted past, which Grayson did not return.
Only when the doors closed, leaving only a handful of King Henri’s guards as an audience, did Grayson meet his father’s eyes.
The king of Ryden struck a powerful figure. Tall, muscular, and with a square jaw, he was handsome in a way Grayson never would be—there were no scars on his face. His thick brown hair, edged with silver, was combed back and his short beard was well-trimmed. His angular face still managed to look strong and his cunning brown eyes had long had the ability to pin Grayson exactly where he was. Though the king rarely lifted a personal hand against his children, he had manipulated them into abusing each other all their lives.
“I’ve had a troubling report.” Henri straightened on his throne, his simple gold crown catching the morning light from the high windows.“Whileyouwerearrestinganinnkeeper,hiswifeinsulted the Kaelin name. And you allowed that slur to go unpunished.”
Irritation flared, but Grayson strived to keep it from his voice. “If I’d arrested the woman, the innkeeper would have fought and I would have had to kill him. No one would have been left to pay the tax.”
“A street full of peasants saw a prince of Ryden ignore a blatant crime,” Henri returned sharply. “Judgment should have been swift. Losing the tax earned by a rundown inn wouldn’t damage my coffers. Unchecked defiance, however, damages the heart of our kingdom.”He leaned back, gripping the throne’s wooden arms. “I’ve corrected your error. The innkeeper’s wife was hung this morning.”
Grayson didn’t blink, didn’t allow any emotion to cross his face, even though his gut wrenched.
Henri released a sigh, closing his eyes briefly as he fingered his temple. “Your behavior is unbefitting a prince of Ryden. No insult can stand against the Kaelin name. The great war is coming and we cannot let ourselves be weakened from the inside. Do you understand?”
He bowed his head, jaw straining. “Yes, Father.”
The king continued to eye him. “You will prove your dedication by journeying to the villages in the northern mountains, demanding all tax payments in full. They’ve been lax in their offerings. Captain Reeve will accompany you. You leave in two days.”
Grayson didn’t protest,thoughhis lungs squeezedat the thought of being away from Mia.The mountains were steep and the passes narrow, still clogged with snow—it would take a fortnight at least, if not longer. All while being spied on by Reeve.
But he would do it. Because if he didn’t, Mia would pay the price.
Grayson found Latham Borg as the old innkeeper was being led from the dungeon, on his way to the remote city of Kavan that housed the king’s western labor camp.
Grayson had nearly turned back twice, but he forced himself to keep walking. Now that Borg was in sight, Grayson’s stomach clenched. It was too late to turn back. He waved at the guards surrounding their prisoner. “Wait at the end of the hall.”
The two soldiers bowed and retreated, careful not to step too close to the Black Hand. In seconds, Grayson was alone with Borg.
The graying man’s arms were chained before him and blood seeped through the bandage on his left hand. Something painfully like hope burned in his eyes.
Grayson firmed his jaw.“Your wifewas executed this morning.”
Borg stared.
