Page 25 of The Last of the Dark Lords

“Why were you so sure?” Cyrus asked.

“The man described my older brother Athard. The blonde hair, the gold cape, there was no mistaking him. And…”

I didn’t want to say it out loud.

“And you wouldn’t put it past him to raid a town for supplies.” Rage and compassion warred on Cyrus’ face.

“That’s what makes me so angry.” I grasped the sheets of the bed between my fingers. “It’s not a question of procuring supplies. Greatfalls has no need of them. It’s just an excuse for cruelty. And the outright killing…”

I didn’t know what else to say. Cyrus sat there with me in silence. I was grateful for his presence, although part of me worried that he might use this against me later. Or against my home city. If Jelenna was there, she would have warned me not to trust him, but I had sent her away for a reason, so that we could speak openly.

He brought me out of my rumination with a question. “What did your grandmother tell you of the treaty?”

I studied him. His face was kind, but I couldn’t hold back the suspicion that had sprung up. He had knowledge that I lacked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to reveal my own ignorance, but lying wouldn’t help me in this moment.

“Not…Only that there was precedent for the marriage,” I said after a moment. “That it had been used before to repair the relationship between Greatfalls and the Lords of Fyr.”

“It’s more set and clear-cut than that.” Cyrus’ face tensed as if he was afraid of my reaction to what he was about to say. “When one of the parties attacked, or made some sort of incursion into the other’s territory, it was a way to avoid devolving into outright war. The aggressor would give a child of their ruling family to marry into the enemy’s sovereign household, and the two powers would consider the matter settled.”

My mind started to put together the pieces. It had been slowed by pain and exhaustion, but it was still working.

“It was something like this,” I said, “a raid or something. The thing that broke the treaty and triggered our betrothal.”

“Yes. Archers from Greatfalls raided a town forty leagues north of here. They didn’t kill anyone, but they might as well have. They took every last bit of food and water.”

I felt heat churning in my gut, angry and restless. I wanted to ride back, to confront Athard, to dosomething. Instead I was injured and far from my home. There was nothing Icoulddo.

Cyrus put his hand on my forearm. My muscles twitched at the feel of him. I willed myself to relax. We had never touched before. His skin against mine was warm and comforting. It was unexpected. He spoke in a soft, clear voice.

“What will you do about your brother?”

I closed my eyes and kneaded my forehead with my fingers. That was the question, wasn’t it? If I was honest with myself, it had always been a question, simmering underneath every fight we’d had over the last decade.

“I don’t know.” I breathed out, forcing myself to let go of some of the weight of the problem. “He is the oldest, and will be Prime.I have no standing to challenge him. Grandmother could change the order of succession, but that's never been done, at least not in our family’s history. I’ve never gotten the impression that she’d go so far as to disinherit him, even if he often displeases her.”

“And you will be leagues away in Ashfuror.”

“Yes. I don’t believe for a second that Grandmother knew in advance about the raids. She wouldn’t sanction something so foolish. But when she dies, Athard will become Prime. Who knows what will happen then.”

Cyrus squeezed my arm, and he stared at me, his eyes moving back and forth as if he was scanning me, trying to make a decision. When he spoke, his voice trembled slightly.

“I…I know that we have no reason to trust each other. But you are my betrothed, and I don’t take that lightly. I have no intention of marrying you and then breaking the treaty. I’ve always wondered if my marriage, whoever it was with, could be real, could be a true joining and not just an act of politics. It’s silly, maybe, but ever since I found out, as a child, that I wouldn’t get to choose my spouse, a part of me has always held out hope that, somehow, there’d be love there. Maybe not at first, but eventually…”

I stared deep into his eyes, trying to detect some lie, some sign of deception. I didn’t find any.

“I am scared.” The words left my lips before I could stop them. Perhaps it was whatever potion Manod had given me, or the effects of being so near death, but I needed to be honest with him. “I, too, had hoped that if I married, it would mean something. But I have never…never been with...”

As I struggled to find a way to tell him how inexperienced I was, Cyrus leaned closer to me. I could smell the mix of soap and leather on him. Something about it sent a shiver through me, unmoored me, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

He whispered. “I know we don’t know each other. Not really. But we could try.”

My breath caught. I couldn’t find words to reply. Cyrus stared at my lips with longing.

“May I?”

I nodded.

He brought his lips to mine. It was so soft and gentle at first, but that didn’t stop my body from reacting. I felt a shock travel from my lips down to my torso and my pelvis, and instinctively I brought my hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him in closer.

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