A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(107)

I’ve seen him in the castle, of course. I can’t stay in my chambers all day. But he has been busy, always occupied, always surrounded by people, while I have slowly become invisible, as people hurry to avert their eyes. He is the heir, the crown prince, the soon-to-be-crowned king. He is the man who saved us from a terrible enchantress, using his own magic to heal the wounded and mend our fractured relationship with Syhl Shallow. I hear the adoration, the fawning, the way people have discovered that there is a new man in power, someone untested and unknowing. Someone who can potentially be tricked and swindled and cajoled.

He’ll learn his way. I did. And Lia Mara seems savvy. I have no doubt.

All of these thoughts make my chest tighten, so I clear my throat. “Are you planning for your return to Syhl Shallow?”

“So eager to see me gone?” His voice is easy, almost teasing, but there’s a genuine question in there, too.

“No.” I hesitate, then look over at him. I don’t want to admit that I don’t want him to go, that I don’t want this hum of tension between us to continue, but I have no idea how to voice that. Just like I can’t hide in my chambers all day, Queen Lia Mara cannot stay away from Syhl Shallow forever. Snow will fall through the mountain pass soon enough, and it’s a hard enough journey in the cold even when one is not pregnant.

Grey inhales like he is about to say something, then stops, regarding me.

I remember when he came to issue his ultimatum, how he stood in the Grand Hall and said, Shall we draw our swords and settle this right now? Then, the air was full of hostility, of regret, of sorrow and loss and the faintest whisper of hope.

Now it’s not the same, but it’s not wholly different either.

I shift forward on my chair, opening the polished wooden box on the table beside me and withdrawing a deck of cards. Without looking at him, I begin to shuffle. “Do you care to play?”

“Cards? Yes.”

He sits across from me, and there’s an eagerness to his voice that makes me glance up. “You’ve missed cards, Grey?”

“In Syhl Shallow, they play with dice.” He pauses as I begin to deal. “I always lose.”

“Truly? You should teach me a game.”

“There’s no strategy.” He picks up his hand and looks at me over the cards. “You would hate it.”

Against my will, my chest tightens again. He knows me too well. I know him too well.

Grey lays down a card. A nine of swords.

It spurs me into motion, and I select a card from my hand. We play in silence for a while, until the game begins to pull some of the tension out of the air.

“If you would not be opposed …,” he begins.

“You are the crown prince,” I say as I lay down a queen to capture one of his kings. “I can be opposed to nothing.”

“You are my brother,” he says, with a bit of heat in his voice, “and the son of a king, and in fact second in line to the throne. You can be opposed to plenty.”

I’m shocked by his sudden vehemence. But also … touched. I give him a sidelong glance. “I may be second in line to the throne, but judging by the state of your beloved, that’s only for a matter of months, I would think.”

He looks up, and I smile, and he looks abashed. “Well.”

My smile widens. It’s rare that I see Grey flustered, even for a moment. “Go ahead, Commander,” I tease. “Make your request.”

He blinks, and for a moment I think maybe I’ve pushed too far, and that wall of tension will drop between us again. But then he says, “Ah, yes, of course, my lord. I would humbly request meager lodgings for myself and Lia Mara through the winter, if it would not be too grand a request—”

“Wait. What?” I straighten, frowning. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” He tosses a card onto the pile. “As you know, snow will block the pass any day, so travel northward may be a bit reckless. And Lia Mara has received word from her sister that the factions against magic have grown emboldened, and there have been attacks on the palace. We do not know who else may be working with them. The army is in place, so they are well protected, but …” He lifts a shoulder. “We promised a peaceful alliance with Emberfall, that Syhl Shallow would finally benefit from trade and access to the sea. We’d like to return when we can show proof that it’s working.”

“That’s wise,” I say, and mean it. “You do not need my permission to stay here, Grey. Ironrose Castle is yours. All of this is yours. I should be seeking permission from you.”

“Never,” he says quietly. “Ironrose is your home, as long as you want it.”

My chest tightens with emotion again, and I have to look back at my cards. “I … will see whether Harper wants to stay.”

He hesitates—then says nothing.

We play in silence again, the fire snapping. The castle is cold, the hallways quiet, but right here is a cocoon of warmth. Grey has seen me at my worst, and the scars never draw his gaze. For that, I am grateful.

“The Grand Marshal of Silvermoon,” he says slowly.

I nod. “Marshal Perry.”

“He has made many grand promises.”

I snort. “I’m certain. He would likely promise you an evening with his wife if he thought it would buy your favor.” I pause. “He often promises more than he has to give. I would be wary unless you’ve set eyes on what he is offering you. I don’t think he’s a dishonest man, just a clever one.”