Page 95 of Under the Lion Star

His brows pinched inward, and the rest of us stood.

“Take me to the fucking king immediately,” a man’s voice boomed.

“It’s Pullam,” Atlas said quietly.

I stepped out of the council chambers that we had transformed into a gambling den and leaned over the railing. Pullam was arguing with two guards, a cloaked woman standing beside him with her hood pulled over her head.

“Let him up,” I called to the guards, who immediately backed off.

Pullam’s furious eyes met mine, and he kept a firm grip on his companion but carefully guided her up the stairs toward me.

“Inside,” he growled, moving past me toward where Orin, Atlas, and Liras were waiting.

“Who are you?” Liras asked suspiciously.

“Zialda’s sister's boy toy,” Atlas whispered.

“You want to tell me what the fuck your wife and sister have been up to?” He asked, ripping back the hood and revealing a grim-faced Nima.

At least, I thought it was her. She looked like Nima, but her face was partially distorted, her eyes the wrong color, and her skin tone shifted slightly. She didn’t look up, focused solely on the stack of papers she held to her chest protectively.

“The fuck, Nima?” Atlas winced.

“Your sister, who I am to understand is fifteen,” Pullam seethed. “Performed blood magic in some scheme where this fucking genius could have gotten herself killed.”

My eyes blinked slowly, trying to piece together what he was telling me.

“Go get Sanna,” I said to Orin, who nodded and swiftly left the room.

“It’s not her fault,” Nima’s voice was strained. “It was our idea.”

“I’m going to need everyone to sit down and take a deep breath,” I explained, trying to keep my voice level. “Then Nima is going to tell us what the fuck Pullam is going on about.”

Everyone took a space around the table, the game long forgotten. Orin entered with a terrified-looking Sanna whose eyes darted over the room as she wrung her hands together.

“Sit,” I commanded.

Her steps were slow, but she took the seat next to Nima’s. My sister-in-law gave the princess an apologetic smile. I supposed it was meant to be reassuring, but it seemed to set Sanna even further on edge.

“Lord Corrin signed his name Arkhain,” Nima started. “The name of an author that Zialda had suggested to him.”

“I remember,” I nodded.

“So, Alda knew he must be involved on some level.”

“Yes, my brother explained that to me.”

“But, after talking to Orin and Liras, she decided he wasn’t working alone.”

“We know all of this,” Atlas slammed his palm onto the table, earning a threatening growl from Pullam.

The tension in the room was making the hair on the back of my neck prick. I did my best to appear calm. While I considered calling for Orin to fetch Zialda next, I wanted to hear the story from Nima, who couldn’t as easily weasel her way out of whatever mess the two of them had found themselves in.

I would deal with my wife later.

“Alda got the twins to distract Lord Corrin’s daughters, taking them to a tavern on the outskirts of the city. The two of us waited in the alleyway for them to signal that the house was empty.”

Her story continued, building and building just like the rage in my bones—each word sliced at the threads of composure, causing them to fray and tatter. My lungs expanded as I sucked in some much-needed air.

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