Page 44 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

“I hail from the Isles of Therran,” she says gruffly around a mouthful of meat.

My eyes widen. “The Isles of Therran?”

Warm and tropical, the Isles lie far off the Bronze Court’s shore, to the southeast. Judging by her accent alone, I knew Gryska wasn’t from mainland Inatia, but I didn’t think she would be that far from her homeland.

“How did you meet Asheros?” I ask her.

“I was living in Keuron,” she says, flicking her eyes up to me. Without a hint of shame, she adds, “Fighting in underground establishments for coin.”

I nod slowly, maintaining an even expression. Such places are against the law, and the Guard is often called to clear out the area and restore order during the fights. One of my first patrols involved just that. Residents had previously sent in complaints about noise they’d been hearing at night, and Ceren had sent my patrol group to investigate.

We’d arrived at a simple-looking bakery. There were empty shelves waiting to be stocked with fresh bread come morning. Based solely on looks alone, we wouldn’t have stayed for long. The noise is what gave the underground fighting ring away—it led us right to a false door behind the baker’s counter, and the club hidden beneath it.

“And let me guess,” I say, my eyes moving from her to Asheros. I point to him. “He was there, making bets.”

“Right ya are,” Gryska replies, pride rolling from her in waves. “He bet on me that night and left several gold pieces richer.”

“More than several,” Asheros quips, voice light with the fond memory. “At the very least, I won about a hundred gold coins.”

“Then what?” I ask, glancing between the two of them.

“I sought to employ her,” Asheros says, his tone even. “It was a matter of time before someone else realized how much of an asset someone with her unique skillset is.”

Ronan clears his throat. “Like Orim’s parents, my mothers oversee silver production at the Inland Mine, outside of Greyhelm. Since my older sister and her partner are set to take over for them, I didn’t care much to learn about the mine’s operations. Still, I would go with them from time to time while I lived under their roof.”

A toothy grin spreads across his face. “I was young and curious. I wasn’t aware that the Head of House and the heir-apparent were also visiting the mine that day, and Asheros caught me rummaging through crates of raw silver.” He pauses, giving me a sly look. “Observing it, of course.”

“Of course,” I muse tilting my head back. “I’m sure that’s exactly what you were doing with it.”

Still grinning, he continues. “Anyway, Asheros said my secret would be safe with him if I told him my name.”

Shaking his head a little, Asheros chuckles. “I kept my word, didn’t I?”

Laughing, Ronan scrapes the last bit of meat and potatoes off his plate. The light quality of his expression dims somewhat. Softens. “You’ve done more than keep your word.”

Finishing his meal, Asheros waves him off.

After cleaning her own plate, Kheldryn relaxes her arms and lets her hands fall to her lap. “It’s true. You’ve given us a place to belong. For that, none of us will ever be able to repay you.”

A place to belong.

I think of High Keep, the first place I ever felt like I belonged, and Myrdin and Viridian—the males that, while we don’t share blood, became my brothers. The ones who make High Keep a home for me.

Pressing his lips together, Asheros offers a small smile to the others. “You all have done the same for me.” Responding to the humble murmurings sweeping the table, he adds, “Truly.”

My chest thickens, as does my throat, making it harder to swallow my last bite of food. Feeling very out of place, I press my arms to my sides, withdrawing deeper into myself. Despite being at a full table, it is lonely without my two closest friends—perhaps three, now that I’ve met Cryssa. They’re miles away in Keuron, and I’m here, alone, dining with my kidnappers.

“Viridian…” I murmur, low enough that only I can hear.

Gods above.

Maelyrra Pelleveron’s schemes could threaten his position, if they haven’t already. If he and Cryssa don’t act quickly to secure their alliances, they could lose the nobles’ support. Myrdin would be devastated.

I wait for the others to clear their plates and then stand. Orim and Kheldryn collect the dirty dishes and used silverware, carrying them into the kitchen.

Once Asheros is up on his feet, I pull him aside. “I have to warn Viridian,” I tell him, my voice laced with urgency. “Send a letter, or a messenger—send something. I don’t care what. He has to know about the Gold Court’s plot against him.”

Asheros cocks his head, knitting his brows. “He may know by now.”

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