These women are at the top of the food chain, and I’m at the bottom. If I try to move up that food chain, there’s going to be trouble.
I-might-get-eaten kind of trouble.
Seth was right to drag me away from Pax and Jada to distract me. I just hope he can keep doing it while we have company – my mouth is not the type of beast that behaves itself for long.
Seth’s a pretty good option as a babysitter. Shade-sitter. Shitter… nope, that’s not right. Might just leave it at Shade-sitter.
“How?” Teegan asks.
Killian rumbles at her, and even though I’m not looking, the silence says it all.
I glance over my shoulder, through the gap between Roarke and Seth. Unfortunately, the main Saber in my view is Teegan, and even more unfortunate is the fact that she has her pretty eyes on my Roarke. All sexy and seductive, like she’s expecting Roarke to speak up in her defense.
I swallow my ill-placed growl before it can properly form. This is not the time. Not the place.
Besides, I’m pretty sure I don’t get jealous.
From this angle I could get a dart to pierce straight through her nose – but then she does have the kind of face that would still look pretty. Wonder how much that would change if I cut the thing off?
Is it possible to look pretty without a nose?
I lean a little to get a glimpse at her triune members, both of them are looking attentively at Pax. Lara is on the left, her almost-white hair is my little reminder that she’s the StormSeed. I have no idea what they can do, attract lightning? Make it strike locations on cue? Or just encourage a storm? Her hair is close to the color Saber Masters go when they get old. But since triunes all form at the same age, she has to be young, and she’s very pretty, even if her nose is oddly flat. Her nose would be harder to cut off, but not impossible.
The twins are interesting to watch. Rynn and Amber. Every now and then their gazes flick across to each other, sharing looks that are full of communication without any words.
They can keep their noses, for now.
“How many Sabers can we rely on? If the Elite forces are down to thirty-seven?” Rose asks.
She has all of her attention on Pax, lethal and loyal and fierce. Some people have that resting face that looks bored, or like they’re in a bad mood, but this woman has resting killing-you-would-be-a-delight face.
“Forty-one teams were in the castle when we left. Thirty-one were less than a century old, only twelve strong allies. Five could be swayed. Forty-eight individual fighters that would die for Lithael. Of the fifty-six Masters in residence and the three dignitaries running the castle, only eight are guaranteed allies. The rest are either openly with Lithael or would run and hide if a battle came their way,” Roarke quotes the numbers, making my head spin.
“If they’re too old or scared to fight, then they should die,” Rose says – not yells, or growls, just calmly says.
Like it’s a fact. Apples are red – and these people should die.
Killian makes an approving noise.
“Rose, we need to restore order, and once we’re done, we need Masters who can train every living Saber and put the realm to rights,” Pax says, his voice in almost alluring soft tones. “We keep as many of them alive as possible.”
Command and inspire – Roarke said. Pax has compassion and foresight, which are qualities worth surrounding yourself with. I’m on the other end of that spectrum – a soot-servant with a big mouth. Trying to be helpful to Pax, to help keep this kingdom from being burnt to the ground, is going to be hard.
Rose slips off her traveling cloak. She’s wearing almost nothing underneath. Wherever her team came from, they’ve detoured here directly after their mission. Her arms are lined with deep red bruises, and her knuckles are scabbed over. She has more buckles and belts on than fabric, and a weapon clip has been attached to every available space. But she only has two weapons on her right now that I can see: a sword strapped down the middle of her back, with the hilt visible over her right shoulder, and a short dagger. She draws the dagger and spears it into the ground between her feet.
None of them bat an eyelid. What kind of a world am I in when someone throws a knife around, and I’m the only one taken by surprise?
“Logan was meeting the new triunes at the gate,” Pax continues. “Influencing them from the moment they arrived. Between Logan’s DeathSeed and his triune brothers both being TrickerySeeds, all they need are a few well-placed words, and the new triunes don’t stand a chance.”
“Not at the moment, he isn’t,” Teegan says. “He left the White Castle the same night you did.”
“Did he complete his trial?” Pax asks.
“Nope,” Teegan answers, popping the ‘p’ on the end. “His triune was recalled. Crown business. Prince Logan was requested to attend the Black Castle immediately, but the gossip is that he’s not in residence, he’s in the field. Gods know what he’s doing.”
I don’t want to know.
“We haven’t seen him, but we’ve heard noise about bandits on the trade routes and weapons bound for the Crown’s personal guard being stolen. Perhaps he’s playing cat-and-mouse with them,” Rose says.
“We’ve heard those rumors too – for now the bandits aren’t our problem,” Roarke says.
“Logan is,” Pax snaps.
“Did you think he’d just sit around the White Castle waiting for you to return?” Teegan asks.
This time Rose growls, and immediately Teegan shuts up. She drops her gaze to the ground and looks genuinely remorseful. Or she’s good at faking it – not sure.
“I’m sure he’ll return when you do,” Rose says. “And we’ll be ready.”
“And he’ll still be waiting to take his trial. Why is he running away from it? He must have
