Page 64 of Heir to His Court

ChapterNineteen

Shadows flooded the hall. Threnvanne strode through them with the focus of a male approaching a waiting battlefield. He paused once, as if reorienting himself to his surroundings. Either the palace operated on minimal staff, or someone had warned the household, because we encountered no one.

He gestured, and doors flew open. When I entered behind him, I knew immediately we were in Renaud’s suite. So he could chastise me in private? Or something else?

Threnvanne prowled the chambers, then returned to where I had halted, awaiting his instruction.

He gave me a brief, encompassing glance. “You present me with a dilemma.”

I stared at him.

“Speak, girl.”

“Of what would you have me speak?”

The General tilted his head, his beaded hair falling over his shoulders, clinking. “You do not want to play that game with me. I find you less amusing than my other aspects do.”

“I don't mean to seem difficult,” I said after a pause. Theway he spoke of his personalities was interesting. Not even Darkan spoke of himself quite so matter-of-factly. “I’m not entirely conversant with the etiquette in addressing the General of Ninephe. I'm used to—”

“Politicians.” He turned away dismissively, and began prowling the chamber again. “What do you counsel I do with you?”

“It depends on what crime you believe I committed.”

I figured he was less interested in my opinion than in putting me through my paces. Though it would be wiser to stop second guessing this male.

He turned back to me. “The murder of my son is no crime?”

Careful,I told myself.“Under the feud laws of Everenne, laid down by Prince Renaud, it was not technically a crime.”

Emotionless eyes regarded me. “Under those same laws, neither would your execution be so.”

“My death is your right.”

“You will not beg?”

My stony silence was answer enough.

“Good. If you had, I would have killed you.” His calculating gaze distanced. “Death happens in war, and you took no oaths to me. But the Lord was mine, and asked you for mercy, which you did not give.”

Ihighlydoubted this male considered lack of mercy a crime. “Are you merciful on a battlefield?”

Amusement slithered behind reptilian pupils. “What to do with you. . .traditionally, a captured enemy combatant who slew the son of her Prince-General would be put publicly to death. But you are also their mate.”

“You don’t claim me. I doubt what theotherswant sways you at all.”

Threnvanne paced toward me. “What one wants, often does not reflect necessity. It would injure me to kill you. Yet I must make an example of you. . .and yet, again, my consort must be known as dangerous. I am not entirely displeased.”

This male epitomized ruthless. He weighed his own son’s death and my hand in it, so clinically.

“Looks like you have a problem,” I said in English.

If I had thought his darkened eyes cold before, I learned the difference now. “You will mind your tongue,” he said. “And speak in a proper language.”

I bowed. For once, I hadn’t been mouthing off solely to vent my turbulent emotions. I was testing his tolerance, and his responses. Now I knew that he would offer at least one warning in the face of mild disrespect—in private. I would not play this game with him in public. Not yet.

“It appears you have already made at least a partial decision,” I said, touching the collar at my neck. “May I ask what this does?”

“You will learn well enough in time.” He circled me once. “I do not see why they are so enamored of you. You are a small creature, of uncertain power. There is potential, and the spark of something almost worth my interest. But there have been dozens of sparks before you. I have lived long.”

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