Sedrak’s lips formed a tight line. “She was a Southerner. Now she is mine.”
Leola’s heart fluttered at the statement. An uncomfortable silence settled around the three of them as Sedrak and Grudin stared at each other.
Finally Grudin turned his gaze toward Leola. “Forgive my rudeness,” he said, forcing a smile. “Would you share a meal with us?” he asked, indicating the seat Sedrak had his hand on.
Her cheeks still burning, Leola sat down, put her hands in her lap, and stared at the plate in front of her.
Sedrak made his way around the table and sat down next to his uncle.
“Gavar!” Grudin said, waving at the table. “Let’s eat. I’m famished. This is far too late for lunch.”
Leola waited, glancing out the corner of her eye as Sedrak heaped food onto a plate and set it in front of Grudin. He did the same with hers, piling it with rolls and smoked meats and pickles. He put it in front of her then filled a third for himself and sat back down.
Grudin chewed through a few mouthfuls before dabbing a napkin at the corners of his mouth and leaning back in his chair. “Your rider told me that the Southern raiders have been taught a valuable lesson,” he said. He gave another glance in Leola’s direction, his eyes fiery when they met hers.
“They won’t be back again,” Sedrak stated.
The statement caused a heavy, tense silence, during which the two men stared at each other.
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Grudin said at last. He glanced at Leola. “It is wise to take some insurance just in case. Might I ask your new friend’s name?”
Sedrak turned to look at her. “Leola Grace. Her uncle led the raids. She offered herself in exchange for his life.”
The old man scrutinized Leola again, and then moved back to Sedrak. “Courage,” he said quietly. “A fine quality in a man or a woman. Yet courage…” he swirled a glass of wine thoughtfully, “is not something we are in short supply of, Sedrak.”
Leola didn’t dare meet the old man’s gaze, though she knew he was looking at her again.
“Did you know that, Leola Grace? Courage abounds among us Northerners.” He looked at Sedrak pointedly. “What we lack are alliances.”
Grudin turned back to Leola and stared at her. Leola lifted her eyes and then dropped them. Unease, almost as great as the night Sedrak had first taken her, crawled through her body. She wanted to cry, but knew she would not.
“Is she mute?” Grudin asked, after a long silence.
“She has learned when to hold her tongue,” Sedrak said icily.
Grudin glowered for a moment, and then barked a laugh. “Well, I can appreciate a woman of good character, no matter her bloodline. You have my respect, dear, for what you did,” he told Leola.
“Thank you, sir,” Leola whispered.
“It was honorable,” Grudin continued. “But my nephew here seems to confuse admiration with something else.”
Leola held her tongue, mostly because she did not know what else to do. She stole a glance at Sedrak, who put a hand over hers, beneath the table, and patted it reassuringly.
Grudin grunted. “My nephew, you have performed well in all your battles. It was wise, wise for me to crown you king.”
His words, though a compliment in their meaning, felt like a threat.
“And so I have another request to make.”
Sedrak was silent. Leola felt him bristle. No one was eating now, and the air seemed thick with tension. Her chest hurt. If she were at her own home, she would have excused herself; she had seen conversations like this one grow darker with each passing moment, and it had never been her desire or her place to witness them.
“Send an emissary East and ask for Princess Havorka’s hand immediately.”
Leola wished a hole would open up in the floor she could crawl into. Her heart ached and suddenly she had no appetite. The realization came at once of Uncle Grudin’s change of mind about her joining them for lunch. He meant to make her position clear. To her, as well as to Sedrak.
“Uncle,” Sedrak began before clearing his throat. “It is on this matter that I must respectfully speak to you.”
Grudin tilted his chin. “So I have come to understand.”
Out of the corner of her eye Leola saw Grudin’s eyes dart to hers, then back to Sedrak. She began to rise, her knees wobbling. “Your… highnesses…” she began weakly, mainly to excuse herself.
“Sit back down, woman!” Grudin hollered, and Leola fell into her chair.
Sedrak was on his feet in an instant, the heavy chair pushed back with such violence that it tipped over. “You shall not speak to her thusly!”
Grudin did not move. He glared at Sedrak, and Leola felt that anything was possible between the two men: they could come to blows, or unsheathe their swords. Her hands were shaking and she clasped them together.
“The time has come, nephew,” Grudin said after an unbearable silence. “An heir is the only salvation for this kingdom.”
“And if I no longer—?”
Grudin stood up and pounded his fist on the table. If he had seemed remotely infirm before that moment, nothing of that impression remained. Leola was suddenly aware of the power and the former strength of the man before her. “We have spoken of this matter and we have decided upon it! There will be no more talk of it! You shall marry the Eastern king’s daughter and she shall bear an heir to both kingdoms. You gave me your word, nephew!”
The two men, panting with emotion and anger, stared at each other. But Sedrak was silent.
Grudin cleared his throat and brushed himself off. “The princess Havorka is tiresome,” he said slowly. “Produce an heir, and when he is born she shall be no impediment to your proclivities.” He looked at Leola. “You can reclaim your plaything at that time.”
Leola looked at her plate and fought against crying. There was another long silence, and then Grudin
