Page 90 of Bloodguard

Vitor’s ogren generals, Tut and Pua, step into the entry hall. Their oversize helmets make Tut appear bald and scrunch Pua’s braids against his shoulders. They’re here to witness their High Lord’s triumph, yet they fixate on me, Tut mouthing something to Pua that I can’t fully make out. What I do recognize is the name Ugeen.

Vitor jerks his chin and dismisses the generals. A few of the royal moon horses whinny, and more chuff and stomp their hooves into the soft grass as the two generals return to the front lawn.

What just happened?

Ugeen is here? Father would never let him inside. The man lied to the council, falsely condemning his husband.

Vitor raises his hands as he does when addressing the arena. “The Great Avianna of Iamond would have relished this day,” Vitor tells Father. “Remember how she spoke of Soro and our lovely Maeve becoming one?”

Father glances at me. “Actually,” Father says, his smile widening, “if my memory serves, I believe she once called Soro a ‘sadistic pig of a child.’”

As if called directly, Soro storms into the foyer. He tears the collar of his burgundy cape as he whips it off and tosses it away to square off with Father. And Father still smiles as he continues, “Or perhaps I am mistaken?”

“Take caution of how you speak of your general,” Soro bites out.

When I take a step forward, Leith’s grip on my arm tightens. “Not your fight,” Leith tells me. “That’s my job.”

“Not today,” I whisper.

“I am no longer a mere soldier,” Father says. “I am the lord of this house and spouse of the real king.”

“Thedisgracedking.” The cold sneer that forms beneath Soro’s pointy nose makes me shudder. “You’ve made many mistakes, Jakeb. It won’t be long before you regret each one.”

“We all make mistakes, don’t we?” Father says casually. “Like opening the door to uninvited guests. And you are correct. I regret it already.”

Soro doesn’t frighten Father, but he frightens me enoughforFather. At least it looks like Soro is backing down this time as he wanders the entry hall, peeking into various rooms as if inspecting the ridiculous flowers the pageboys have carefully set upon every available surface.

Empty-handed now, the pageboys make a quick exit, each afraid to draw attention to themselves, except for the smallest, who continues to chant. He rushes to Leith and curls his thin arms around his waist.

“Bloodguard, Bloodguard,” he whisper-chants.

Leith solidifies his imposing form, clearly surprised by the contact. He recovers quickly and places his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Using care, he moves the little boy gently away. “Be wary of those who watch you. I don’t want you hurt,” he says in a voice so low, only the two of us can hear him. “Run along, Gunther, and I’ll see you soon.”

The sweet child fiddles with the collar of his shirt, which is two sizes too big for his lean body. He heard Leith, but even as he steals a quick look in Soro’s direction, his fascination with Leith keeps him in place.

“Out!” Soro commands from the ballroom archway, and the little boy flinches. With a nod from Leith, Gunther runs.

Vitor approaches, all smiles, takes my hand, and raises it to his lips. “Maeve, my darling. How are you this evening?”

He squeezes my fingers tight, drawing my attention from the door where Gunther disappeared. It takes everything in me to bow in greeting. “Uncle.”

Vitor releases me and turns to Leith as if just noticing him. “Good evening,” he says. “I am High Lord Vitor of Revlis, Arrow’s Regent and Defender. And you are?”

“You know who I am,” Leith says.

Anger singes me from head to toe, and I grip the fine satin of my gown in my fists. The regent gives me a warning glare, but I look away without acknowledging him. Furious prickles of heat creep up my neck. Thenerveof him, to pretend not to know Leith after he has bled him in that damn arena time and time again.

I’m taking a breath in preparation to tell Vitor exactly what I think when strong hands grasp my shoulders and whip me around.

“Daughter, this is not the time to confront Vitor,” Father whispers, having come up behind me. His voice is soothing, and it calms me as it has since the day he and Papa made us all a family. “But your time will come. You will soon be queen. Do not lose sight of it.” He braces himself, looking straight ahead. “No matter what this filth says.”

With that, Father takes my arm and leads me away from our unwelcome guests and into the library, where candles in the wall sconces cast shadows that dance along dark wood bookcases and across heavy brocade chairs on one end of the room. At the other end is Papa’s desk, all his personal items placed upon it exactly as they had been in the castle. The only things missing are the ancestral swords, which were placed in glass casings and set into the wall behind the desk. When Vitor took over as regent, he claimed my grandfather’s and grandmother’s swords. To this day, he promises they’re somewhere safe and swears I will receive them when I take the throne.

Father wraps an arm around my shoulders as I take several calming breaths. I pull away and sit on a green silk settee as Soro and Vitor enter with Leith following them. Father lowers himself onto the settee to my left, but instead of sitting in the chair next to me like I wish, Leith stands behind my right shoulder with his hands clasped in front of him and his full attention on Vitor and Soro as they position themselves in high-backed chairs opposite us.

Pasha and Musy bustle into the room and can’t seem to move fast enough as they serve cherry wine in shimmering goblets, careful not to spill a drop.

Vitor nudges Soro covertly, but I notice it. Soro clears his throat. “You look lovely tonight, Maeve.” He shifts uncomfortably in the chair that looks too small for him. “I hope the flowers suit. They are your favorite, I believe.” His rote delivery sounds like he’s reading from one of the manners primers I had to study as a child.

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