Page 97 of Of Nine So Bold

My restraint didn’t help. Deter’s gaze ran over her, and the contempt in his eyes made it a gods-damned miracle someone didn’t gut him on the spot. “Very well,” he snapped like he was barely conceding the point. “But what of this…womanthe Aneirans wished dead?” he demanded. “I see she possesses teeth like yours. I take it she’s Zeniryan as well?”

“Yes.”

Casimir didn’t elaborate, and after a moment, Deter sniffed and visibly dismissed Gwyneira from his mind. But then, he’d always been a sexist prick and an idiot on top of being a sadist. Rather than spare a moment to consider whether this beautiful woman actually posed a threat, he immediately concluded she wasn’t worthy of attention.

Which was good, really, given the situation.

I still wanted to break his teeth for looking at her that way.

Drawing himself up, the old asshole skimmed his eyes back and forth across Casimir, Ruhl, and the group of us “dwarves” with a look I recognized. The one that said he’d momentarily lost his sense of control over the situation, so now he was redoing his calculations of whom to disregard and whom to manipulate.

Intimidation hadn’t paid off. Brute force definitely wouldn’t, not if he knew shit about vampires. And since assholes like him really only had three weapons at their disposal and he’d already used contempt and rage, that left…

“If you truly are a king,” Deter said, his tone suddenly even and reasonable, “then I propose a treaty between our nations. Zenirya would do well to receive aid from the giants of Erenelle.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. His version of charm always had needed work.

Casimir appeared amused. “Even if I believe you possess the authority to form treaties on behalf of Erenelle, the Kingdom of Zenirya has extended its protection to the people you see with me. They are honorary Zeniryan citizens, all of them—including the ones who have just reported your attempts at murdering them. I would never consider such a treaty without my citizens receiving a formal statement of apology and an iron-clad promise that they would never again be subject to any violence—or attempted violence—against them.”

For a heartbeat, Deter’s face tightened like he’d bitten into a damn lemon, and I choked back a laugh.

“We’re Zeniryan now?” Niko hissed to me.

“Oh,” I whispered back. “I’ll be a three-headed golden goose if it lets me see that look on that asshole’s face again.”

Byron spoke up from my right. “And we would need the terms of this treaty spelled out in exacting detail before Zenirya would agree to anything, regardless.”

Contempt crept back into Deter’s eyes when he regarded Byron. “Who is this?”

“My royal advisor,” Casimir replied like it should be obvious. “You will treat him with the same respect you afford me if you wish these discussions to continue.”

Fuck, I was loving this. Maybe the vampire king would give us all titles to shove down good ol’ Uncle Deter’s throat.

The duke regarded Casimir and Byron in silence for a moment, but clearly he couldn’t figure out a way around this. If anyone could get those manacles off the giants, it’d be the vampire and the scholar. Even Deter seemed to recognize that, especially since he had no other choice.

“Very well, advisor. Your Highness.” That sucking-on-a-lemon tension still lurked under his controlled tone. “We require your magic.”

“And why is that?” Casimir replied.

“Because we have another route out of here.”

26

GWYNEIRA

My vampire side and I were in wholehearted agreement that something needed to be done about that man who called himself King of Erenelle.

We only differedslightlyon what.

“And what exactly would this method of escape be?” Casimir replied to the man’s claim of a way out.

Deter smiled. “Ignatius.”

Nearby, I heard Byron’s breath catch.

I couldn’t risk turning around, not without drawing attention. I didn’t recognize the name from the memory Byron had inadvertently shared with me. But from that reaction, I had to assume he knew the man.

The elderly giant who approached didn’t have the sneering look of the duke’s henchmen, though. Like many of the giants who didn’t seem to be in the duke’s inner circle, he appeared tense—and on the verge of starvation. Mining had done just as much damage as age, leaving his wrinkled skin with an ashen, desiccated look, like dust and grime had become a part of him.

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