Page 64 of Threaded

“It’s too soon, Victor. If we are not patient, we could loseeverything.”

That voice … he would know it anywhere.

Andrian’s shadows leaped out of his skin, filtering into the air around him, instantly blending himself into the gloom of the dimly lit hallway. He moved quickly to the wall, pressing his back to the smooth stone as he inched along towards the barely cracked door. He glanced around, and with a whispered curse under his breath, he realized suddenly where he was.

Every Royal family had both a collection of suites in the palace and a residence in the mountain district down in Verith. Normally, the lords would keep their residence at their manors in the city, opting for opulent seclusion over their comparatively cramped palace quarters. However, after Mariah’s little explosion that had blinded Campion and killed Beauchamp—good riddance, honestly—the Royals had decided to remain a bit longer in the palace before removing themselves to their manors.

And, of course, that meant Andrian’s father, Lord Julian Laurent, was currently living in the palace. And even once he decided to retreat to his manor in Verith, he wouldn’t return to Antoris until after Mariah’s coronation.

Which, if Andrian had anything to do with it, wouldneverhappen.

Lord Shawth’s dark chuckle filtered out of the cracked doorway and pulled him from those thoughts.

“You say that as if we actually have anything at risk. We have the upper hand in everything here, Julian. There is not a single thing that hasn’t gone our way in over two decades.”

“While I see the positives to our situation, Victor, you know why I’m still unhappy with certain … elements.” Andrian’s father’s voice was brusque, a tone Andrian knew far too well.

That had often been the tone used right before his father would teach him a “lesson” that almost always ended with Andrian bruised or bleeding on the cold, hard floors of his family’s ancestral keep.

“Yes, yes.” Andrian could almost picture Shawth waving his hand dismissively in front of his face, could envision the darkening anger setting into his father’s expression. “I know you would have things differently. But all things considered, we couldn’t have gotten luckier. He has truly blessed us.”

He?

Another low growl from Lord Laurent. “Are things otherwise situated at Khento?”

“As I just told you, everything is in order. Julian, trust me; this is our time.” A brief pause, followed by the sound of a soft creak, like someone was shifting in their seat. “The only obstacle left in front of us is … well,her.”

Andrian went utterly still.

Maybe they meant Ryenne. She was still the one who held the power in the kingdom. And as long as Mariah never ascended, Ryenne would remain in her state of limbo for …

Well, he wasn’t sure how long that could last, but he was determined to test it.

Andrian’s father humphed. “What is it, exactly, that Kol wants?”

Who in the gods’ names was Kol?Andrian knew Onita’s history better than most, the lost words of the past his hidden passion. Losing himself in events that had already happened always seemed safer than dwelling on whatever horrors he might be subjected to in the present.

Shawth snorted. “He wants what he’s always wanted—her.” Another creak of a chair. “We have to move now. To bring her to him.”

“Not now, Victor. It’s too soon. Besides, we hardly have enough proof. Everything you rely upon is speculation; not enough to risk what you’re proposing—”

“Did you not hear me before, Julian? There is no risk. They are weak, and we have a tool none of them would suspect.”

Silence followed Shawth’s words. Andrian’s heart pounded in his ears, his shadows twisting tighter around him, pressing him deeper into the darkness of the hall.

Finally, Lord Laurent spoke again.

“No.” His voice was low and dangerous. “Ryenne has faithfully served this kingdom for centuries. Because of that, we must give her a chance. Let her prove her worth to our cause. Let’s see what we can get her to give to us willingly, and then we can discuss … other alternatives.”

The relief that flooded Andrian was immediate and sickening.Ryenne. They were talking about Ryenne. Not Mariah.

He hated himself for that relief. It was not something he should—could—feel.

Pulling his shadows back beneath his skin, leaving just enough in the air to conceal him as he slipped from the quiet corridor, Andrian finally continued toward the palace exit. He marched past the stables and stalked into the game park, trying and failing to shove the overheard conversation between his father and the other Onitan lord far from his mind.

CHAPTER30

The clash of metal and the impact in her arms had Mariah clenching her teeth. She grunted softly as she pushed the soles of her feet into the earth, pouring her strength into her arms against the attack she was defending.

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