“New clothes are in your quarters,” she said. “I ordered food, too.”
When I arrived in my apartment, it was empty, but there were signs of Nicole—sweatshirt thrown over the back of the sofa, half a glass of water on the counter, and an extra toothbrush next to the bathroom sink. I quickly showered and then put on the clothes Emmaline had dug up, which were admirably similar to the outfit I’d shed. She had a good sense for details.
The food she’d ordered had just arrived, and I was about to dig into a bowl of pasta when there was a knock at the door.
I opened it, and Oliver stormed in, barging past me before whirling around. My eyes popped wide. I’d never seen him look so worked up.
He flipped his hand and glanced at the door, indicating I should close it. Swallowing hard, I turned to my father.
Chapter 24
“WHAT DID YOU do?” Oliver thundered at me.
I pulled my head back and resisted the temptation to creep backward just to open up more space between us. He had a long reach, and he looked mad enough to grab me and turn me over his knee like I was seven years old and I’d been caught misbehaving at school.
“Um, could you give me some context to your outrage?” I asked, but I had a pretty good idea why he was so agitated.
He closed his eyes and pressed his thumb and forefinger over them. “Please tell me you did not volunteer to fight as the Stone Order champion against the Duergar?”
I pulled my lips in and bit down on them.
After a moment of silence, he dropped his hand and squinted at me. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“You asked me not to tell you I volunteered to fight as the Stone Order champion. But I can’t lie.”
He gave me a hard, withering look.
“Don’t act like a smart-ass teenager, Petra.” He started pacing the tiny living room-slash-kitchen area. “How could you do this?”
I lifted my palms. “It seems like a good solution.”
He kept up his restless movements for a couple seconds longer and then seemed to realize how unsatisfying it was to pace in such a small space.
He halted and huffed out a loud sigh. “So, it really was your idea,” he said flatly.
I nodded. “Maxen didn’t like it at first either. He doesn’t want me to do it. But he sees that it’s a good response to the matter. I’m not going to die, Oliver. I know I’m twice any swordsman Periclase will send as champion. They don’t train the way we do. And I’ve got full stone armor.”
“I just wish you would have talked to me first.”
I raised a hand and let it drop. “I should have. But the end result would have been the same because I wouldn’t have let you talk me out of it.” We watched each other for a couple of breaths. “Does this mean Marisol has approved my suggestion?”
He pulled his mouth into a grim semblance of a smile. “I demanded to speak with you before she files.”
“You’re not going to change my mind,” I said quietly.
“I know.” He tipped his gaze upward, and his expression became pained. “But this is my fault, and I don’t want you to pay for my decisions.”
“Your fault because you sent me after Nicole?”
He nodded. He actually looked rather miserable. I averted my eyes and walked over to where my pasta was still steaming on the counter.
“I didn’t know he would go after you,” he said.
“Of course you didn’t. You have no blame for that.” I twirled my fork in the spaghetti. “And frankly, I didn’t exactly make things better for myself with my little confrontation with his bastard daughter at the reception for the dignitaries. Oh, and when I knocked her out, brought her here, and put her in jail. That probably didn’t help either.”
I stuffed a forkful of pasta in my mouth, watching Oliver as I chewed and using the food as an excuse to stop speaking.
“You do have a way of pissing off authority figures,” he said.
Moving a bit stiffly, he went to the sofa and sat down, propping his elbows on his knees and peering up at me from under his heavy brows. He still looked defeated and unhappy, but I could handle that. The pain in his eyes a moment ago had jabbed a little too deeply into my chest.
I swallowed my spaghetti. “I’m not going to die,” I said again.
“You sure as hell better not.” He straightened. “I’ll help with your training.”
I nodded. “Good.” I forked up another bunch of pasta.
The phone on the wall rang, and every muscle in my body twanged in surprise. I was unused to the sound of old-fashioned wired phones. I got up and caught it on the third ring.
“Hello, this is Petra.”
“I’m calling from the office of the Lady of the Order,” an official-sounding voice said. “Is Oliver Maguire there?”
“Yep.” I held the phone out to my father.
He rose and took it. “Oliver speaking. Yes, I’ve spoken to her. Yes.” His face turned grim, and his eyes slid to me and then away.
He listened for another few seconds and gave some one-word responses before hanging up.
“That was Marisol,” he said. “To make things official, she needs to knight you as the champion of the Stone Order.”
I stopped chewing. “Oh. Right.” I tossed him a wry look. “You pissed I’m stealing your title?”
He snorted and almost smiled.
“It needs to be done now, before she files the counter-petition.”
“I’m ready.” I wiped my mouth with a napkin and closed the spaghetti container. “Let’s do it.”
Oliver didn’t say a word to me on the way to Marisol’s office, but I had the sense it was important to him to escort me to this meeting. I was grateful he was there, though I knew there was very little he could do, even in the training yard, to help me prepare.
When we arrived, there was a small group waiting for us. Marisol and Maxen, of course. Marisol’s personal bodyguard Jaquard, who’d trained me in sword fighting when I was a teenager. A few Order officials.
“Let’s get started,” Marisol said, her voice carrying over the few quiet conversations in progress.
She lifted her hand at me, indicating I should approach. The others automatically backed off, giving us some space.
“I know I don’t need to ask if you’re sure,” she said, her voice low and her words meant for me alone. “You’re a decisive woman, and clearly a fearless one. But know I would not have made this decision if I didn’t have total confidence you could prevail.”
I blinked, unable to come up with a proper response to such unexpected praise.
“Now,” she said a little more loudly. “You must choose a squire before we can proceed with the knighting ceremony. Who will you name?”
My brows rose, and I blinked again as my brain tried to switch gears. I knew immediately who I wanted. “My page, Emmaline.”
An official hovering nearby went to a phone and began speaking into it. Meanwhile, Jaquard appeared at Marisol’s side holding a long, narrow object wrapped in silky gold fabric across his arms.
Suddenly, I realized what the bundle was. “Aurora?” I looked at Jaquard and then at Marisol.