Page 45 of Immortal Sentry

Miisov brought Eron’s attention back to the present. “Both of King Lothan’s children will once more be in the castle that their forebears ruled for centuries. You’re at your strongest together. The two of you must face Bain in one accord. When you’re named king, your sister must publicly accept you as the king and the head of the family.”

“Will she have to go back to her husband?” Not a single person said one good thing about King Selin.

One side of Miisov’s mouth quirked upward, barely visible within his impressively shaggy beard. “As king and head of the Eritrescue family, you can dissolve her marriage on charges Selin conspired to have her murdered.”

Really. “But won’t that leave her sons with her husband or his family??”

The cunning smirk on Miisov’s face would’ve frightened Eron if they weren’t on the same side. “As king and Lessa’s brother, with no heirs of your own, you’d be within your rights to lay claim to your nephews.”

So much hinged on Eron becoming king. He didn’t want to rule, to be responsible for so many lives. He’d rather hide in the forest, waiting for a rich nobleman to rob and be on his way. “Is there any other way?”

“I’m afraid not. You need to become king if you hope to help anyone.”

Eron had been afraid of that. “Can I ask you about Captain Kerric?”

Miisov’s shoulders tightened. “What would you like to know?”

“Why do I never see him in the daytime?”

“He has other duties. Besides, he must rest sometime.” Miisov’s smile appeared forced.

Eron had suspicions, though certain memories vanished like smoke when he tried to grasp them. “Do you trust him?”

“Why ask me? You don’t trust me.”

“No, I don’t. You’re Kene’s father, but she doesn’t seem to trust you either.”

“For reasons.” Interesting that Miisov didn’t deny the implication.

Eron left Miisov and busied himself with studying the layout of the rooms. There was an antechamber with comfortable seating, good for entertaining, and a massive bedchamber with a canopy bed—also in shades of green—a writing desk, and tall leaded windows leading to a private balcony.

Miisov nearly shouted as Eron climbed over the railing. “What are you…”

Eron considered his options while hanging by his hands. Someone nimble might reach Lessa via an adjacent balcony. He pulled himself up, raising an inquiring brow in Miisov’s direction. “Is there anything you can do to secure this balcony?”

“I’ll cast a ward.”

“What will that do?”

“Let anyone in the vicinity know there’s an intruder.”

“Can it let me know?”

Miisov gave a slow blink. “Done.”

Done? Really? That simply? What powers did Miisov command, and did Eron really want to know? Eron took another stroll through the rooms, checking every nook and cranny. “I’m finished here.” At least until he asked Kerric about any hidden entryways.

He and Miisov walked side-by-side down the corridor, followed by two guards who seemed incapable of smiling. Maids smiled when spotting Eron but scowled and fled at the sight of the guards.

“Miisov, will there be a way for me to talk to Lessa privately?” Thank all the deities for Miisov’s silencing spells.

“I’ll see what can be arranged, but understand King Bain and Crau will watch you. You’ll have to evade them.”

Eron grinned. “I’m the notorious Lordling Night who’s evaded capture for many seasons. More importantly, I’m also the heir apparent to a wealthy baroness who’s had much practice dodging scheming mothers. How hard can it be to avoid those two?” Particularly as neither struck him as particularly bright. The scheming mothers? Very clever indeed. And highly motivated.

“Just remember who held the title of Lordling Night before you.” Miisov stalked off, laughing.

Eron paced across the floor in his rooms, having slept earlier to have the evening for Kerric—if the dratted man appeared. He wished to be back home with Kene. But was Kene’s estate home anymore?

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