He recounted, “And upon taking his brother’s heartsglass, still stained with his lover’s blood, did Hollow Knife turn to slaughter the seven creatures of Blade that Soars. That was part of the original legend. Stained with his lover’s blood—even gods, I assume, suffer trauma. It’s why I believe Dancing Wind died. Whether her death was by design or by accident, that is the true question.”

“I can see how that might have made her eligible,” I murmured. “But the Dark asha’s letters also talk of needing to present herself to a mountain to be judged worthy.”

“I confess I know little about that.” Lord Garindor sidled as close to me as he dared. “Incidentally, old runic magic and legends are not my only métier. I am a historian first and foremost, and have devoted my life to researching and compiling the genealogies and bloodlines that shape Drychta royalty, from the early days of Mithra and Rashnu down to Aadil. The mad king is an unusual study. He was not the direct successor to the crown—he usurped the rightful ruler, Adhitaya, and slew all his known family. I wager the people would prefer King Adhitaya to the warlord ruling in his place.”

“Maybe so.”

“Drycht has a long history of pain. Adhitaya was not as cruel as Aadil, but people often think the olden days are better than the ones they have to live through. Drycht nobility has always had a cruel streak. I remember how Princess Esther of House Ordith tried to elope with a struggling craftsman, how both were put to death for their efforts. How a poor boy accidentally stumbled in Adhitaya’s presence, his legs cut off for his impertinence. How the noble House of Hazirat massacred the Parenka district because their farmers asked for more rice. But sometimes—sometimes—some rare few are capable of benevolence. Adhitaya’s son, the young Omid, was said to have been a kind man, unlike his father. King Walid ushered in fifty years of peace. Queen Thana often opened her coffers to the poor.”

I closed my eyes, struggling against tears. Lord Garindor was too observant for my taste. “I am not interested in the past of a kingdom that rejected me, milord.”

“Sometimes the past is all we know.” He paused. “Milord.”

A commotion rose outside. I dashed to the window and so did my kinsman, briefly forgetting his Drychta decorum.

A circle of elder asha gathered outside the Valerian, facing a small group of soldiers. At the latter’s helm was a beautiful woman clad in royal red. Her face resembled Inessa’s, though the princess stood on the woman’s left. Lord Fox emerged from inside the asha-ka, Lady Altaecia and Councilor Ludvig beside him.

“She killed Hestia!” one of the asha sputtered. “And still you protect her! Still you defend her!”