There’s a pause, and then I hear Digby say, “They’re idiots if they really think this about her. If you ask me, it’s just a bunch of caterwauling.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Judd replies. “They feel threatened. They’re too arrogant to think Midas was the liar. And anyway, it’s political. If there’s one thing you can always be sure of when it comes to rulers, it’s that they will always try to spin a situation to their advantage.”
My brows pull together in a frown.
The front door suddenly opens, and I jump, pressing my back against the shadowed wall as Ryatt comes stomping inside. If he was really looking, he’d spot me, but he stalks inside and rounds the doorway, his shadow spilling into the hall.
“Is it true?” he growls, making everyone else go quiet. “Is it?”
“Yes, it’s true,” I hear Slade say.
Ryatt makes a noise of frustration, and I see his shadow start to pace. “Fuck.”
A simmering unease sloshes against my stomach, tainting the hunger I had and replacing it with nausea. I know there’s something going on—something Slade hasn’t told me yet. That much was clear when I overheard him and Ryatt at the pavilion, and I got the same feeling when Slade received that hawk and didn’t offer an explanation. Sure, it could’ve been something minor, but I don’t think so.
For a second, I consider turning back around. Going back to the bedroom and hiding from all of this. But I can’t keep doing that. It’s time I take another step. So even though my anxiety is spiking up, like water levels rising to my ears, I force myself to push away from the wall. To walk into the living room.
As soon as I do, I see everyone gathered around the kitchen table. Slade’s eyes immediately flick up to me when I appear through the doorway, and I see the stress on his face a second before he wipes it away.
“Auren.”
Everyone else at the table turns to look at me, as does Ryatt, who was standing in the kitchen doorway with his back to me.
None of them quite have the poker face that Slade does. But even if they did, I’d still be able to sense something was wrong from their stinted silence. Even Hojat, whose presence is always so calm, has strained lines of worry creasing his face.
My eyes fall to the scroll that’s been rolled out on the table. It looks like it’s been passed hand to hand, crinkles marring the scrawled words.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my eyes dragging back up.
Lu and Judd look to Slade, and even Digby cocks a brow at him, like he’s waiting for Slade to come clean.
When Slade hesitates, Judd cuts in with an easygoing grin. “Hey there, Gildy. Heard you found out why we really call him Rip. Bit of a show-off, making a whole-ass rip into the world, don’t you think? Personally, I preferred all the rumors that we came up with to explain his nickname,” he tells me. “It was fun spreading them.”
Lu smirks. “Like he got the name for ripping people’s heads off in battles.”
Judd nods. “Or having ripped muscles—the women liked that one.”
“Rest In Peace.”
“Ripping people a new one.”
“Being a rip-off.”
“Ripping through lives.”
Judd’s eyes light up. “Or ripping some nasty ass far—”
“Enough,” Slade says with a sigh. Judd snickers.
“Thanks for that,” I tell them. “And yes, it was quite the surprise. But I really just want to know what’s happening now.” My eyes look around the room. “There’s something that’s been going on since we’ve been here, right?”
To my surprise, Ryatt is the one who answers. “Yes, there has been.”
“Ryatt,” Slade growls.
“What?” he snaps back. “She’s up. She’s healed. And now, she’s asking. You’re wasting time—time that’s not only yours to waste. It’s not hers to waste.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, unease churning through my stomach. “Is this about...Midas?”
Hojat shifts in his seat. Judd’s eyes move to Slade again. Lu flicks her wooden lip piercing with her tongue.
“What does the letter say?” I ask warily.
It’s the look on Slade’s face that makes my chest tighten, that makes cold dread flood my veins.
“What does it say, Slade?”
Instead of answering, he gets to his feet, digs a hand into his pocket, and pulls out a handful of scrolls. My eyes widen when they spill onto the table. “The monarchs have demanded that you answer for the death of Midas—that you stand trial at a royal Conflux. They claim…”
My heart crashes against my chest. “They claim what?”
He lets out a weary sigh. “They’re claiming that you stole Midas’s gold-touch. That you became jealous when he announced his betrothal to Queen Kaila, and you killed him in a fit of rage. And…that you’ve seduced me.”
My mouth parts in shock, ribs cracking with the force of my heartbeat. “And that...that’s what those letters are? A kind of summons?”
“Some of them.”
I swallow hard. “And the others?”
He hesitates.
“Slade.”
“We were just informed that our shipment of supplies never arrived. It was supposed to get to the outpost, enough for the army passing through and also to replenish Drollard, but it didn’t arrive. I looked into it, and it seems that the ships never came to port.”
My frown deepens as I try to understand what this has to do with what happened in Ranhold.
“What ships?”
Ryatt cuts in before Slade can answer, turning his body toward me. “What my brother is trying to say but doing a shitty job of, is that the other kingdoms are now sabotaging us for harboring you.”
My eyes go wide.
Slade shoots him a glare before he tries to explain. “Fourth Kingdom is mostly wetlands, swamps, and mining mountains. Outside of that...there’s the rot,” he says. “Partly used as a deterrent, partly because I have to expel the power. But that means that my kingdom doesn’t make for very good farming land. Other than fish, we have to import most of our food from trade agreements between the other kingdoms.”
He pauses.
“So the shipment...”
“It’s not coming, Gildy,” Judd tells me from his spot at the table. “The kingdoms are pissed off that Slade’s ignored their guidance and hasn’t shipped you off for the summons. This is their way of warning us.”
My eyes fly to Slade. “But what about Drollard?”
“We have reserves.”
“Yeah, but it’s not infinite,” Ryatt says.
“Not to mention the army,” Judd adds, running a hand over his mustard yellow hair. “They’ve been on the move for months now. Their supplies will be dangerously low as they pass into Fourth. Not good for morale.”
“Neither is an absent commander, and a king not in his kingdom,” Ryatt says pointedly.
“You need to get back,” I say aloud.
Slade looks at me stoically, as if he’s not carrying the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders. “We’ll go when you’re ready.”
He’s not returning because of me. Because I’ve been dragging my feet, too tentative to get a hold of myself and face the changes of my power, face the repercussions of my actions at Ranhold.
“I’m holding you up, Slade,” I tell him honestly. “You need to go back to Fourth Kingdom.”
Anger flashes across the sharp planes of his face. “You think I’d leave you behind? Not a fucking chance.”
“I don’t want to be left behind, but the other monarchs know I’m with you. Maybe it’s best if I do stay here.”
“No.”
I let out a sigh. “Slade—”
He presses a hand against the table. “It’s not happening. We’re not separating. Besides, I can better protect you back in my kingdom. It would also be best if I’m there, in case the other monarchs decide they want to retaliate with more than holding up an outpost shipment. But before we can go…”
I fill in his gaps. “I need to figure out my magic.”
He nods.
“Right, so she can possibly kill everyone in Drollard,” Ryatt mutters.
Slade opens his mouth to tear into him, but Digby beats him to it. “Don’t speak about my lady in that tone,” he grounds out.
Surprisingly, Ryatt actually looks a bit chastised before he covers it up with derision. “Shouldn’t you be in bed healing?”