TWENTY-FIVE
motives
Konstantin’s gray eyes stared back at me, unyielding, unforgiving. It was his first official photo when he’d joined the H?gdragen, in full color on the top page of his file. He’d been younger then, clean-shaven, skin smooth, but unsmiling. The H?gdragen were never supposed to smile, not when they were working.
It was strange because in the picture he looked harder than he did now. The years on the run had taken their toll on him, definitely, but he’d softened somehow.
I wish I could know what had changed between the time that proud young man had been photographed in his crisp uniform, and the night he’d run my father through with his sword.
After Ridley had confronted me in the locker room, I’d changed and gone back to apologize to Tilda, but she was already gone. But that might be for the best. She could probably use some space before I went to her and owned up to how unfair and cruel I’d been.
Ridley had gone off to take care of some pressing Rektor business with another tracker, so I took the opportunity to sneak in and grab Konstantin Black’s file from the cabinet behind his desk. Technically, anybody was allowed to look at Konstantin’s file, since he was a wanted man, so I had no need to sneak, but I didn’t want to talk to Ridley about it. At least not right now.
I sat cross-legged on my bed with Konstantin’s file spread out before me, hoping that it would give some kind of insight that would help me figure out what happened and what was going on.
But so far there wasn’t anything that I didn’t already know. His father had died when he was very young, and he’d been raised by his mother, who died around the time he joined tracker school. He’d graduated at the top of his tracker class, and he went on to successfully bring in 98 percent of the changelings he was assigned to in the eight years he worked as a tracker.
He joined the H?gdragen at the age of twenty-three immediately following his retirement from tracking. He’d transitioned seamlessly into their ranks, rising quickly because of his diligence and charm. Shortly after Mina married the King, she’d appointed Konstantin as her guard, where he’d risen to even greater prominence.
Everything in his file showed him as a loyal, intelligent hard worker, even if he was occasionally noted for his pride. If he was arrogant, it seemed justified. He gave a superior performance at his job, and he was beloved by the people.
In every one of the King’s Games Konstantin had competed in, he’d walked away with top honors. He was a hero to the people, and a loyal servant to the King and Queen.
That was it. That was all that was in his file. Just accolades and praise, up until the night he attempted to kill my father. Then there was a report explaining the incident and that Konstantin had disappeared in the night’s snow.
But there had to be something more. Something I was missing that would make him change so drastically. From a guard full of swagger and promise to a traitor on the run, humbled and worn.
Ember’s footsteps pounding up the stairs to my loft interrupted my thoughts, and I scrambled to put everything back in the file. I’d just shoved it underneath my blankets when Ember threw open the door.
“I know, I know,” I said as soon as I saw her glaring down at me. “I acted like a jackass toward Tilda today.”
“You certainly did.” She trudged over to me, her boots leaving snowy prints on the creaking floorboards. “You really hurt her feelings.”
“I’ll apologize to her later,” I promised Ember. “I just thought I’d give her some space.”
“Good.” Ember kicked off her boots, then flopped back on the bed beside me. She wore thick leggings under a skirt that flounced around her. “It will suck not having Tilda to train with or work with around Doldastam. But she says she’s coming back after the baby’s born.”
“I know,” I said, without much conviction.
“I mean, my mom didn’t go back to tracking after she had my older brother.” Her eyebrows pinched together and her mouth turned down into disappointment. “And that other tracker Sybilla had her baby two years ago, and she still hasn’t come back.”
“Maybe Tilda will be different.” I tried to cheer Ember up. “And even if she doesn’t come back, she’ll still be in town, and we can still see her.”
“You think she’s wrong, though.” Ember leaned back on the bed, propping herself up with her elbows and looking at me. “You don’t think she should have a personal life, that any of us should.”
“I have friends, and I’ve dated, and I thought it was great when Tilda and Kasper started dating. So it’s not that we shouldn’t have personal lives,” I said, trying to explain my position. “I just think we made an oath to make this job our priority, and having strong attachments can interfere with that.”
“Is that why you and Ridley never hooked up?” Ember asked.
“What? I—we—we never…” I sputtered, and sat back on the bed, moving farther away from her. “We never did anything because neither of us wanted to. I don’t have those feelings for him, and I’m sure he feels the same way. He’s my boss, and both of us could lose our jobs, and now he’s dating Juni, and besides, we didn’t want to. So. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ember raised her eyebrows and smirked at me. “Whatever you say, Bryn.”
“Nothing good ever comes from falling in love,” I told her definitively. “You act ridiculous and lose your mind and you forget what really matters to you, and then you end up sidelined and married or heartbroken and destitute, and neither of those are good options, so it’s better if you just avoid relationships altogether.”
“Gosh, I really hope you don’t mean that, because that just sounds sad,” Ember said, staring up at me with pity in her dark eyes.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Just never mind.” I stood up, grabbing a sweater off my bedpost, and pulled it on over my tank top.
“What are you doing?” Ember sat up straighter, alarmed.
“I should probably head out. I’m supposed to go over to my parents’ for supper.” If I left now, I’d actually be a little early, but I’d grown tired of talking about romance and Ridley.
“Oh.” Her face fell. “Okay.” She slowly pulled on her boots and got to her feet. “Sorry if I said something to offend you.”
“No, you’re okay.” I brushed it off. “You’re fine. I just have stuff to do.”
Ember left, not seeming totally convinced that I wasn’t mad at her, so tomorrow I’d probably have to spend some time making up with both her and Tilda. But for now I had other things on my mind. Once she’d gone, I moved Konstantin’s file, preferring to hide it in the bottom of my nightstand drawer, underneath odds and ends.
The dinner with my parents had actually been my idea. After I’d read the incident report, going over what had happened with Konstantin in black-and-white, I realized that I needed to talk to my dad and find out what had actually happened that night before I came into the room.
The sun had nearly set by the time I reached my parents’ cottage in the town square. It had been a rare day without a cloud in sight, and the sky was darkening from pink to amethyst as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Before I even opened the front door, I could hear my mother, singing an old Skojare seafaring hymn. I paused, peeking through the kitchen window to see her standing in the kitchen, an apron around her waist and flour everywhere. She always sang when she baked, usually Skojare songs in a mixture of heavily accented English and Swedish, or occasionally Barbra Streisand. My mom had always been a sucker for Streisand.
When I came inside, I closed the door quietly behind me, and she didn’t hear me as I took off my boots and hung up my jacket. As a tracker, I’d been trained to tread lightly, to move about without making a sound, and I’d made it all the way into the kitchen before she turned around and saw me.
“Bryn!” Mom gasped and put her hand to her chest. “You scared the daylights out of me!” She smiled and swatted me playfully with an oven mitt. “Don’t give your mother a heart attack. It’s not very nice.”
“Sorry,” I said, but couldn’t help laughing. “What are you baking?”
“Just a gooseberry pie for dessert.”
“I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” I grinned. “Where’s Dad? I wanted to talk to him before dinner.”
“He’s in his study,” Mom said, but she stopped me before I turned to go. “Listen, Bryn, I need to talk to you for a second.”
“About what?” I asked, and even though I was an adult living on my own, I still felt like a little kid about to be grounded for staying out too late.
“Well.” She took a deep breath and tucked a few errant strands of hair behind her ear, unmindful that she was getting flour in it, and her eyes were grim. “I know that Konstantin Black is the one causing all the trouble.”
I took half a step back from her and straightened my shoulders, preparing for a fight, but I waited until she’d said her piece before saying anything.
“I know that you have a job to do, but…” She pursed her lips. “He nearly took your father and you away from me already. I don’t want you messing around with him.”
“Mom, he barely hurt me before,” I tried to deflect her concern. “It was little more than a scratch, and I was just a kid then. I can handle him now. You don’t need to worry.”
“Bryn, you are my daughter, my only daughter.” She walked closer to me and put her hands on my shoulders. “I know how brave and strong you are, but I need to know that you’re safe. And I can’t know that if you’re chasing around after this madman.”
She put her hand to my cheek, forcing me to look up at her, and the aquamarine in her eyes was filled with pleading. “Bryn. Please. Promise you’ll stay away from him.”
“I’ll stay away from him if I can,” I told her honestly. “But I’m going to protect myself and this kingdom. I’ll do what I need to do, and that’s the best I can give you.”
Her shoulders slacked, but her hand lingered on my face. “Be safe. Don’t be reckless or brave. If you must go out after him, then come back safe.”
“I will,” I assured her, and she leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
“Okay.” She stepped back and smiled at me, trying to erase her earlier seriousness. “I need to finish with the pie. Go ahead and see your father.”