Page 84 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

“I can’t talk for much longer, but I will say this. Until I return, be wary of who enters the castle.” Knotted with tension, my shoulders rise. “Even those you consider friends.”

Color fades from Cryssa’s face. “You’re scaring me, Lymseia.”

“I don’t mean to.” Regret rises in my throat, begging me to close my mouth. “Just—” I pause. “Be careful. That’s all.”

Viridian nods, his expression unreadable. “We will.”

“Good.” I let myself relax, slightly.

“Promise us you’ll be careful, too,” Viridian says, a firm look set at his brow. “If anything happened to you because of what you’re doing on our behalf…”

“I’ll be all right,” I promise, looking between the two of them. “When this is all over, I’ll be back at High Keep to give you hell.”

“You’d better,” Cryssa teases. “Because if you’re not, I’ll have no problem dragging you back here where you belong myself.”

I laugh. “Gods be damned if I let that happen.”

Though it’s brief, the hint of a smile tugs at Viridian’s mouth. It’s the last thing I see before the image wavers and then fades. The silver blade stills until only the reflection of the moonlight is left visible on its surface.

Lifting the collar of his shirt, Asheros returns the dagger to its place strapped against his chest. “How are you feeling? Any better?”

Releasing a long sigh, I shake my head. “Not at all.”

I thought knowing Viridian and Cryssa are safe, for now anyway, would ease some of my worries. That, perhaps, hearing news of Myrdin would dispel my suspicions.

I was wrong.

I’ve gained no new, helpful information. If anything, my suspicions about Myrdin grow deeper, and knowing he hasn’t sent Cryssa and Viridian any meaningful communications within a fortnight’s time, doesn’t help. For all we know, he could be galivanting around the kingdom sowing the seeds of Viridian and Cryssa’s downfall.

But why?

Despite all the signs pointing to him, I can’t seem to determine his motive. The Myrdin I know isn’t motivated by power.

Or greed.

But perhaps he isn’t the male I thought I knew.

Guilt roils my stomach, twisting in my abdomen. What kind of friend am I to believe someone I called my brother could be a murderer hell-bent on tearing apart the kingdom we both love? If there’s a chance I’m wrong, how can I ever look him in the eye knowing my faith in him faltered?

My throat constricts. Heaviness sets into my chest, the weight of it seemingly enough to pull me beneath the earth. Savell’s concerns from earlier echo in my mind.

“This is purely speculation. There’s nothing definitive.”

He’s right.

There’s nothing conclusive that points to Myrdin as our target, nor is there any evidence to show that the red-eyed male is even headed for Illnamoor.

My breath catches, and I feel as though I’ll choke on it.

We have nothing. Absolutely nothing.

And I despise it.

As Captain of the High King’s Guard, I would never pursue a lead without concrete evidence. It wasn’t worth sending squadrons with nothing to go on. It was a waste of manpower. A terrible risk, especially when going in blind meant blood could be shed.

Ceren had taught me that. She taught me to value each and every life under my command.

It’s the exact opposite of what I’m doing now. I’m sending males and females into a potentially dangerous situation without a legitimate cause. If I wouldn’t send members of my guard after a murderous fae with unknown power, then why am I doing that to Asheros and his inner circle?

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