Page 74 of Kingmakers, Year Four

Ilsa’s older sister Neve is Heir. She’s made no secret that Ilsa will be her lieutenant. Both girls surely know that in our world, the slightest sign of feminine weakness would be deadly to them. They have to be more decisive, more intimidating, and more ruthless than any man, or the Bratva jackals will come for them, just as they’re trying to come for my family.

Hedeon can feel the challenge radiating out of Ilsa just as I can. He’s choosing his words carefully. He won’t get anything out of Ilsa if he offends her.

“I saw a picture of one of your relatives in the annex,” he says. “Evalina Markov—she was a Captain in theQuartum Bellum.”

“That’s right,” Ilsa says proudly. “She won twice.”

“I saw that . . .” Hedeon says. “But then, she didn’t compete in her Senior year. And I thought that was odd.”

“She wasn’t at school her Senior year,” Ilsa replies promptly.

Hedeon licks his lips, trying to hide his eagerness.

“Why?” he says. “Where did she go?”

“She married my uncle Donovan.”

I see Hedeon’s chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s wondering if Uncle Donovan might be his father. Evalina Markov and Donovan Dryagin might have given their baby away to hide the accidental pregnancy, then married afterward.

“Was your uncle at Kingmakers, too?” Hedeon asks, his voice shaking slightly.

Ilsa shakes her head.

“No. Donovan is ten years older,” she says. “They were betrothed when she was, I dunno, fourteen or something. He had to wait for her to grow up a little. You know how it was then.” She rolls her eyes. “How it still is now, for some families.”

Hedeon locks eyes with me.

We both know that means Dryagin can’t possibly be Hedeon’s father. Dryagin was ten years older, established in his career, and had the blessing of the Markovs. If he had impregnated Evalina over the summer holiday, she would simply have dropped out of school and married him, as she apparently did in her Senior year.

The hasty adoption surely shows that Evalina fell pregnant from someone other than her fiancé.

Now Ilsa is frowning, watching the silent communication pass between Hedeon and me.

“Why are you two so curious about my aunt?” she demands.

“I’m not,” Hedeon grunts, with a passable imitation of his usual surliness. “It’s Leo who wanted to know. You know he’s trying to break the record of all the previous Captains.”

“He better hope Adrik Petrov doesn’t kill him if he does.” Ilsa grins. “I met him once in St. Petersburg—he’s pure animal, that one.”

It’s the first time I’ve seen Ilsa admit admiration of anyone. I have to hide my smile, knowing how much Adrik would love to hear it.

“So . . . do you want that drink, then?” Hedeon says to Ilsa.

I don’t know if he’s covering his tracks, pretending to hit on her after all, or if he’s as sucked in by her beauty and boldness as Bodashka and Pasha.

“No thanks,” Ilsa says, tossing her head. “But . . . you can come dance if you want.”

She strides back across the sand, walking as easily as if it were firm ground.

“You gonna go dance with her?” I ask Hedeon.

“No,” he says, looking at me like I’m insane. “I’m not gonna grind on somebody who might be my cousin.”

“Oh, right,” I say, trying to hold back the slightly-hysterical laugh that wants to bubble up inside me.

It’s impossible. I let out a snort, and then a full laugh.

To my surprise, Hedeon chuckles too. His laugh is strangely soft compared to his rough features.

---