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  Her uncle smirked, just a flash at the corner of his mouth to display his approval. Phillip squirmed every time Myah added input to the argument. His face contorted in disgust, which gave Myah a measure of satisfaction after the many days she had been forced to endure his meaningless chatter.

  “A practice no doubt based in sentimentality,” Phillip shot.

  “A practice based on respect for life,” Edgar said. “Whales are the guardians of water magic. They deserve our respect, just as the owl, wolf, and badger are due for their elemental guardianship.”

  Phillip scoffed. “You would let a children’s story interfere with what could be a lucrative trade agreement with Ost?”

  Myah saw Garrett twitch minutely out of the corner of her eyes. She turned her head to see him; his expression told her nothing, but his body was tense, ready for a fight. His double swords had returned to the sheaths on his back, their hilts arched upward over his shoulders like demon wings. She had not seen him without them since Skye and Cal had been stupid enough to attack him two nights ago. Although, she was uncertain how he had gotten Edgar to agree.

  “We are a family of spellweavers. We honor the old traditions,” Edgar countered. “As Elysia is also a spellweaver, I’m sure she will understand my position on this.”

  “I will express your views to my aunt on the matter, but—”

  “Wonderful,” Myah interjected before Phillip could say more. He had been talking in circles for hours. “I think that settles things, then. Our trade goods in exchange for wheat, corn, rye, cotton, and silk from the southern kingdoms.” She pushed back in the chair and started to rise.

  “Not entirely.”

  The tone of his voice, like a serpent hissing and about to strike, made Myah pause. She sat back down.

  “There is the issue of the wards, Lord Edgar,” Phillip continued. He picked up his goblet of wine, absently staring at the liquid. “We can’t transport goods into a kingdom that we cannot access, and who is to say that you will uphold your end of the bargain once we deliver on our end? My aunt wants you to remove the wards—permanently. So, that the kingdoms are on equal footing, as they say.”

  “Do you doubt my word as high lord?” Edgar leaned forward.

  “You do have ties to the treacherous house of Esparrow.”

  “You ar—” Edgar threw up his hand, silencing Myah. She gritted her teeth, biting back the words she wanted to hurl at him. She was reaching the end of her patience with him.

  “The removal of the wards is non-negotiable,” Edgar said. “Trade is one thing, but I have offered assurances of protection to the people of Nordlin as their high lord, and I will not betray them. We can arrange for a mutual exchange through the wards if she is concerned that I will not follow through on our bargain. But, the wards will never come down.”

  Phillip set his goblet on the side table and leaned back into the cushion of the chair. If he had been in a sitting room or a library, she had no doubt he would have kicked his feet up as well. “You must understand, Lord Edgar, the queen does not trust easily, especially the old houses. Not after their condemnation of High Lord Einar.”

  Condemnation? Myah thought. Einar Ashen, Elysia’s husband, had been a traitor, executed for his betrayal of King Triston, and instead of accepting that decision, Elysia had brought down the royal house and destroyed two of the four kingdoms. Ostens were delusional.

  “But,” Phillip continued, “she might be agreeable to another show of trust.”

  “I’m listening,” Edgar urged him on.

  Phillip’s thin lips twitched upward, making him appear ugly and cruel. “A union of the houses.”

  “No,” Myah interjected as Edgar said, “Absolutely not.”

  She stole a look at her uncle.

  “Lord Phillip, Myah is my heir, the heir for the house of Leicht. She will be the high lady. I’m sure you are aware of the traditions of heritance.”

  Phillip laughed. “Ancient and stuffy, just like all the old rules, but we’re not playing by the rules of the house of Esparrow anymore, Lord Edgar. The Esparrows are gone, wiped out. They will never reign in the four kingdoms again. However, combine the house of Ashen with the house of Leicht … now that is a combination that would put the rebels to rest. After all, wasn’t your great-grandmother a princess of the royal house? Your sister its queen?”

  “Our family lineage is beside the point,” Edgar countered.

  “Then what is the point?” Phillip sneered.

  “Ending the war.”

  “This would end the war. Myah marries me, the heir, and becomes queen when the crown is passed to me.”

  “I have no desire to be a queen,” Myah barked, rising. “Uncle—”

  Edgar cut her off with a look. “We’ll discuss the matter,” he said.

  Horror—pure, overwhelming horror passed through her. “You cannot be seriously considering this.” Her voice shot up an octave. “I will not marry him.” She threw out her arm, pointing at the Osten lord. “Ever.”

  “Now is not the time,” Edgar countered.

  “Uncle—”

  “Leave.” The command was a dagger to her heart. “Now.”

  Her body trembled with rage, and it took all her willpower to turn and leave. She practically stomped into the hallway, slamming the door behind her.

  Nothing would ever compel her to marry that fool. Nothing.

  Yet, a thought filled her with terror.

  What if her uncle agreed?

  ~TWENTY-TWO~

  Myah plucked at the pheasant on her plate with her fingers, tearing at the tender pieces, as if by destroying it she could tear up the thoughts in her head.

  Marriage to an Ashen.

  Hours later, the thought still horrified her. It also angered her, more so because Edgar had dismissed her, making it clear that her opinion on the matter was not relevant. That dismissal wounded her enough that she had sat next to a few of the women from the visiting houses. Their company was pleasant, although the conversations—leaning toward fashion and some needle stitches one of the lady’s maids was brilliant at—left her mentally numb.

  She needed mentally numb right now, if only to silence the ruminations swirling through her head.

  “Did that pheasant bite you before the kitchen cooked it?” Cal pulled up a chair and sat, before scooting close to her. His arm was in a sling, keeping it close to his chest. The thick bandage encircled his arm and part of his hand. She tried to scoot away from him, but he had angled himself in such a way that she could not avoid looking him. A shame, considering that he and Skye were her least favorite people after their stunt with Garrett two days prior.

  They could have been killed.

  They should have trusted her.

  “Go away.” She shoved a piece of the shredded bird in her mouth. “I’m still mad at you.”

  “My.” His deep voice was gentle and low. “You know Skye wasn’t going to let what Garrett did to you stand. You know how he feels about you.” Only Cal knew how close she and Skye really were, although the rest of the court certainly speculated enough.

  She turned her piercing eyes on him. “So much in fact that he has been draped over Alena for days. So much in fact that he doesn’t respect my decisions or trust my choices.”

  Her glare did not faze Cal. Where it rankled Skye, it merely amused Cal. “The day of the raid … did Skye ever tell you what happened?”

  “He said you found me in the snow near the old mill.”

  “We searched all day, Myah. In the building storm, in those awful winds. Skye refused to stop, even when it was clear we should head back to the city, or join Owl in the caves. But Skye would not give up. He was convinced that any minute we would find you, and you would need us. He was terrified that if we gave up, you would die.”

  She turned, seeking out Skye across the room. He leaned toward Alena, whispering with her. Days of watching them had made her doubt any affection they had ever shared. She shifted back toward Cal. “I would h
ave died, Cal. I nearly froze to death.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t. Because we didn’t give up. We promised you when we started the hunting trips that we would protect you, that we would protect each other. Remember, he—” Cal jerked his chin toward where Garrett stood with the other Ostens. “—almost killed you—not us. We are the ones that silently bear your mother’s anger because you almost died of hypothermia. Skye is the one forced to ignore the sideways glances and gossip from everyone here at court, who whisper about what he did to the future high lady.”

  Myah knew all that because she had defended them. Only, gossip had far more appeal than the truth, especially at a court full of bored people.

  “Cal—”

  “My point,” he interrupted, “is you are our friend. We would do anything for you. And I think that alone has earned us some forgiveness, even when we do stupid things.” Cal placed his hand on top of hers, squeezing her fingers.

  “Fine,” she relented. “I forgive you.”

  “Great—” He flashed a wide grin, showing the whites of his teeth.

  “But,” she continued, “I don’t forgive Skye for that.” She gestured toward Skye and Alena with her chin.

  Cal followed her motion with a glance and then looked back at her. He leaned in, dropping his voice lower. “Her uncle has connections in Morgensol.”

  “And?”

  “And she’s helping Skye with those connections for when he leaves with Owl. I promise you. That is all. You know … You know he loves you.”

  She leaned forward and kissed his rough cheek. “Thank you for that, Cal. I needed a friend right now.” She sighed. “But when you love someone, you don’t go out of your way to hurt them because you are angry, and you and I both know, that is what he is doing.”

  “And you weren’t doing that with the Osten? Because you made assumptions about Alena and him?”

  “I danced with Master Garrett. I had a conversation with him, mostly to determine whether he was a threat,” she whispered. “I would never cross a line I couldn’t come back from.”

  “And Skye has?”

  Myah returned her attention to the half-destroyed bird, picking at the meat again with her fingers. The mess on her plate reflected the tangle of her emotions. The anger that Edgar was considering marrying her off to the Ashens. The terror of what her life would become. The sorrow that she would lose her freedom. And the heartache of never being able to be with Skye, not only because of the treaty, but because she had seen him in the garden, with Alena earlier that afternoon. In Myah’s favorite spot near the fountain.

  “Yes,” she whispered. Skye had done more than betray her trust as a friend; he had betrayed her heart. “He-he kissed her.”

  Cal guffawed, drawing the attention of the women seated next to them.

  Myah glared at him. “What is so funny?” she bit out.

  “Trust me, My.” He patted Myah’s shoulder as he scooted his chair back. “That was all Alena.” He stood. “I will see you later.”

  ~*~

  Myah’s uncle and her mother had shut her out all day, so they could speak privately with Lord Phillip. Twenty-four hours, and they had avoided her questions, if not flat-out avoided her presence. Edgar was considering the offer, taking it seriously. She could feel it.

  And she hated it.

  This was her life. She should have a say in its outcome.

  Myah changed into the pants and long-sleeve tunic she typically wore for archery and threw her winter cloak over her shoulders. She then tugged on her wool gloves, the ones that came up to her elbows, and grabbed the scarf her mother had knitted for her as a birthday gift some years prior. She grabbed her new bow and a quiver of arrows. She threw the strap to the quiver over her head and then angled the bow so that it rested across her body.

  Myah needed some perspective, and she was not going to get it hiding away in the halls of Nordlin Castle. She needed a friend—a wise old Owl.

  Her uncle had posted additional guards at the castle gates, as well as in the city and the outer walls since the Ostens had arrived. Although Edgar had not restricted her movements around the city, Myah was not inclined to answer twenty questions from the guards to leave the castle. Therefore, it meant sneaking off the castle grounds and into the city. She sneaked down the staircase to the practice fields and then followed the outer wall to the place where the ivy hung like a waterfall. She brushed the greenery aside, exposing a hole in the crumbling stone, just big enough for someone small to slip through. She hid in the dark as the guards passed on their rounds, and then she cut through the orchards and into the upper section of Nordlin City.

  Myah followed the narrow, cobblestone road, past the townhouses favored by the noble houses and the wealthy, to a staircase that bisected the neighborhoods and emerged in the heart of oldest section of the town. Its dark byway deterred most pedestrians, as thieves were as rampant in Nordlin as any other city in the four kingdoms. Myah took the stone steps two at a time, using the walls of the buildings to her right as a guide and support to deter slipping. She paused halfway down to take a breath, leaning against the exposed frame of the house.

  “Lady Leicht.”

  The sound of her name brought her to attention; her heart did an impression of a hummingbird before returning to a normal rhythm. She spun around, assessing the shadows. She could see nothing past a few feet around her, not with the moons still in the dark phase.

  “Who’s there?” she demanded.

  “Master Garrett,” he answered. “I saw you leave the castle. Would you like some company?”

  “No,” she snapped. Myah did not want company, at least not anyone who reminded her of why her life was spiraling out of control.

  “My apologies for intruding, then. Enjoy your walk.” His tall figure brushed past her on the stairs.

  “Wait!” she called, rethinking her initial response. In the darkness, she could tell he stopped, but not whether he had turned around. “I’m just going to visit a friend, outside the city. If you’d like to join me.”

  “Sure. I’m headed in the same direction.”

  He was?

  “You have friends outside Nordlin City?”

  He laughed softly. “Does that surprise you?”

  “You don’t seem the type to have friends.”

  “Oh?”

  “You’re intimidating.”

  “So is my friend.” The words lingered between them before he continued, “Come on. I will introduce you. I think you’ll like him, especially since you don’t seem to be intimated by me.”

  He started down the stairs and she followed. “You scare me to death, quite frankly.”

  “We also didn’t meet under the best circumstances.”

  “No, I guess not,” she agreed. “The city guards might not let me out. We’ll need to find a way around them.”

  “I have it covered,” he said, as he emerged from the shadows into the old section of the city lit by lampposts. He was dressed in the battle dress he had worn the day they met: leather pants with a leather vest. Twin leather straps crisscrossed his chest, each holding a series of knives. A cloak hung around his shoulders, and his blade handles curved up over his shoulders. Leather gauntlets encased his hands and lower arms.

  “Are you preparing for battle?” she joked, glancing over him a second time. Who needed that many blades?

  “The last time I left the city, your friends tried to use me as a pincushion, and I didn’t have my swords with me.” He offered a sideways glance. “You target practice in the dark?”

  “No, but I like to have my bow on me when I’m outside the city. You never know what you will run into. Plus, I did not want to be eaten by the wolves. They’ve been howling for days.”

  “Wait.” Garrett grabbed her arm as they came to the side gate, closest to the refugee camp. His sudden touch slightly unnerved her. “When he turns to pace north, we’ll slip out.” They waited for the guard to turn in the opposite direction, then they darted for the
gate. Garrett pulled her toward the outside wall near the refugee camp. They skirted through the shadows, before blending in with the bodies milling around the tents. The blue-green hue of the wards in the distance colored the night sky.

  “The wolves are restless,” Garrett said, as they maneuvered around the canvas structures. “They have been for days, but they won’t hurt you.”

  “They attacked Cal,” she argued. His arm had been a bloody mess.

  “That was one wolf, and only because your friends attacked me.”

  “The wolf is yours?”

  “Wolves don’t belong to anyone.”

  She sighed. Her mind circled around Skye again.

  “I didn’t ask them to do that. To be clear.”

  Garrett shrugged as they started across the open field around the city. “I didn’t think you had. Have you had any problems with Phillip?”

  “No. However, I haven’t seen him since his disgusting offer yesterday.”

  “You’d be a queen.”

  “I’d be a slave.”

  “We are all slaves to something, Myah.”

  They entered the woods, and he brushed back the thin, leafless branches in their path, holding them back so they would not hit her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Of course,” he continued.

  “I don’t think my uncle will agree to Phillip’s request.” She hoped. “A marriage alliance would practically legitimize the house of Ashen’s claim to the throne. It would almost be saying, all is forgiven. Let’s forget that messy business of murdering the royal family,” she mocked. The idea felt like a joke. How Phillip could think any member of the house of Leicht would consider that proposal was laughable. Besides, weren’t establishing diplomatic relations enough?

  At least, she used those reasons to reassure herself that her uncle would not do that to her. Although, she would feel much better once she heard it from his lips.

  “Marriage wasn’t on the list of terms he was authorized to offer. It was strictly trade, supplies.”