“I serve Stonegate,” Kael snapped. “I serve Jorvans. Not just a king. You are Jorvan, you are family, you are of Stonegate. I will serve and defend you.”

Stupid, reckless, brave Kael. I took hold of his hand and squeezed.

Roark turned. He didn’t address me; instead, he spoke to Kael. Keep watch until I return.

“Where are you going?” Both Kael and I asked in unison.

Roark paused at the door. Darkwin. Fail her, and I tear out your spleen.

Kael hardly seemed bothered by the threat.

“Wait, Roark. Where are you going?”

Roark looked at me. I have a meet I cannot miss. I’ll return soon.

I had no time to press the Sentry before he slipped out the door without a glance behind. Bastard. It was intentional. One look, and Roark would know I would delay him, question him, tempt him to stay.

My pulse raced. Where would he go? “Why did he threaten you?”

Kael scoffed and kicked out his legs, crossing his ankles. “If I had to guess? Because he’s completely in love with you. The man simply says it in odd ways.”

45

Roark

Moonlight split the black sky in silver, but never reached the corners of the old woodsheds in the far edges of the garden.

I waited, never moving, my head shrouded in a thick, woolen cowl. Stav patrols took their routes on the narrow garden paths, this way and that, muttering to their patrol partners about nothing of significance—trysts from the feasts, reprimands from their superiors, one found an odd boil on his cock that had him worried.

All the while, none knew I was crouched in the shadows by the shed.

Unseen until I wanted to be seen.

Footsteps came from one of the bowers at my back. I didn’t turn around, not even when she crouched beside me. “Going to tell me what was so damn important you tore me from Yrsa on the last night before I am made a mistress?”

Thane would never mistreat Emi, but no matter the prince’s thoughts on the arrangement, it was true—Emi would always be a royal mistress.

We have a meet beyond the gates. I’ll need your words. I paused at the door to the shed. The night was silent enough, misplaced sounds would be simple to hear, and the old door was the sort to screech on the hinges.

I managed to pry open a gap wide enough for us to slip through and close the door without more than a small groan. Emi didn’t wait for my word and walked sideways through the maze of old root crates and stale casks until she reached the far corner.

Together we peeled back the thick woven mat and lifted the narrow hatch built into the floor.