Page 35 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

I do a double-take when I spot a man riding a saddled moose. Near the market, a woman sells cloudfox pups from a basket on her arm, leashes securing the wriggling little pups from floating away. A small girl strolls down the street, sipping nectar from a flower bud in place of a teacup.

This is no bleak city full of indentured workers beholden to my father’s reign. In fact, at first glance, Norhelm looks…charming.

Ta-DA!A small voice calls up from the woven rug.

Spinning around, I find my forest mouse darting out from under the bed. She turns in a circle with a flourish ofher tail.

Little friend! There you are!Relieved tears puddle at the corners of my eyes as I fall to my knees to cup her in my hands.I was afraid we were separated when Iyre knocked me unconscious!

I told you I would always find you.She preens her tail proudly.

A laugh bubbles from my throat as more relieved tears roll down my cheeks.Have you explored the castle?

The kitchens are on the ground floor. There’s a pantry for everything. Root vegetables. Salted meat. Even a confectionary.

I smile because, of course, a mouse first thinks of food.What else?

The castle has five towers with five walled gardens between them. There are crawlspaces between the floors, so I can travel easily and unnoticed. Oh—and the cloudfox? From the forest? It was at your window this morning, but I couldn’t?—

A sharp knock at my door cuts her off.

We both jump.

Hide!I tell the mouse even as she is already bounding across the rug to duck under the wardrobe.

I hurry to the door, pausing to marshal my emotions before opening it.

When I see who it is, I take a staggering step back. “You!”

Grand Cleric Beneveto waits in the hall. He doesn’t wear his cleric’s cassock, instead donning riding trousers and a loose black shirt open at the collar. It’s his hair that I know him by—the telltale white streak over one eye, giving him a look that’s more roguish than holy.

He gives a slight bow. “Highness, allow me to welcomeyou to Norhelm. Your father thought you might be more at ease if greeted by a familiar face.”

My fingers curl into my palms to quell the desire to deliver a sharp slap to his face. “I believe my father might be confusing familiarity with fondness.” My fists tremble at my side when his only response is a smug smile. “I suppose your being here means Rian was right about you. He always suspected you were disloyal to Astagnon.”

Beneveto wraps his hand around his neck like a noose, grinning. “Guilty.”

Oh, this insufferable man.

On second thought, I give in to the urge and lay the flat of my palm across his fresh-shaven cheek.

“Traitor,” I spit.

The smack reverberates down the hallway. A sting pulses in my fingers, and I shake out my hand, answering his smug grin with one of my own.

A scowl deepens his wrinkles as he gently taps his cheekbone. “Is it traitorous to defy evil? Or merely prudent?”

I wipe my hand down the length of my gown’s bejeweled bodice to banish his skin’s feel on my fingers. “Do you refer to Astagnon? Evil is a harsh word for the kingdom you supposedly shepherd.”

As he leans forward in the doorway, his white streak of hair falls in his gray eyes. “A kingdom that didyouno favors, either.” He straightens, tossing back his mane of hair, then combing a hand through it until he’s restored a semblance of formality. “I am still shepherd of the souls in Astagnon. That is why I am here, Highness. Working with your father to give those poor lost souls a better life.”

My gown’s tight bodice squeezes my ribs. “Even at the cost of war?”

Instead of answering, Beneveto scratches his eyebrow. “You should speak with your father if you’re going to bring up war. Come, Highness. I’ll take you to him.”

I fold my arms like a shield, presenting a hard outer shell, hoping it hides how my heart is hammering inside.

After twenty-two years, I’m going to meet my real father?

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