Page 19 of A Dagger in the Ivy

“Take care with your boldness, Celeste.”

The king’s eyes are on me, and I might be imagining things, but it looks as if he’s daring me to speak up. The queen, who is still standing, twists the fingers of her gloves. Her breaths are deep and slow, and her expression remains stoic.

The king taps his fingers together again. “As for our agreement to aid your regiment’s forces, arrangements are already underway to deliver efficient supplies as well as soldiers so that your army may thrive.”

“That’s very generous of you,” my uncle puts in. “We are very grateful.”

“To that point,” I say, unable to stop myself, “I have a few terms of my own. I insist that I continue to command my squad.”

The king’s brows plummet, and he lets out a scoff. “Whatever for?”

Torbin tilts his head, his expression unreadable.

I square my shoulders. “I understand that I must be here, to learn Hedera’s ways and incorporate myself into your kingdom, but I’ve worked hard to reach my position in the regiment, and I don’t think I should be expected to simply give that up. And then there’s the matter of the carnoraxis.”

“Surely, your squad can manage the attacks, assuming you’ve led them correctly.”

“Your Majesty, if you’ll allow me to plead my case, these carnoraxis attacks are something of a personal nature to me.”

“Because the victims are fae?” King Silas puffs out his chest, smirking as if he’s solved some great puzzle.

“Yes, Your Majesty. The situation is getting worse. Citizens arestringing up their own kin, sacrificing them to the creatures, just to save their towns.”

There is a gleam in King Silas’s eyes that sours my stomach. “How very scandalous. But what kind of father-in-law would I be if I let my son’s future bride run off to put herself in danger?”

I raise a brow. “I believe you underestimate my abilities, Your Majesty.”

“I find it completely inappropriate—”

“Father,” Torbin cuts in, taking a step forward. “I think it’s something to consider. The carnoraxis attack at the full moon. I do not mind if she joins her squad at that interval. After all, I, too, would like to continue my tradition of attending the monthly hunt. What’s good for the goose, as they say? Besides, keeping my bride-to-be happy is my foremost duty.” He glances back at me with a coy smile.

For a moment, I let myself relax. Torbin seems to understand me. He seems willing to compromise. And the most relieving aspect is, he doesn’t want to keep me caged in this castle for the rest of my life. I dip my head slightly in gratitude.

My gaze travels back to the king. He appears hesitant, his fingers twirling in his beard as he thinks over his son’s words. Torbin stands tall, seemingly unfazed by his father’s reflective silence. That is, until King Silas shifts forward on his throne with a scowl on his face. In that moment, Torbin averts his gaze, and his shoulders slump a fraction of an inch.

As if sensing the tension in the place, Nadya, who has been completely silent, steps forward to stand beside me. “Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but may I ask where the hunt takes place?”

Torbin tilts his head at her before turning to me.

“This is my lady-in-waiting,” I say, realizing she has not been introduced. “Nadya Steen.”

Nadya curtseys with such elegance, I have to wonder if she’s been practicing without me.

Torbin gives her a nod. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Nadya. Yes, the hunt occurs in the Darkthorn Forest, the deadliest woods in all ofTerre Ferique.”

Nadya’s eyes widen. “That is the dwelling place of the mystical midnight buck. Might you be trying to track it?”

“Indeed, the midnight buck is my main target. I am determined to hunt it down.”

Queen Eleanor fidgets with her earrings. “I don’t believe it exists. No one has seen one for ages.”

“It is quite elusive, Your Majesty,” Nadya adds. “The belief is that it brings luck and success, and capturing one would surely send a message of prosperity throughout the realms. Perhaps the sign of a blessing of the Prince and Princess’s union.”

Torbin’s smile lights up his face, making him appear even more handsome. “One day, it shall be at my mercy, mark my words. I am intent on capturing it.” He turns to his father. “I vow to bring you the buck’s antlers as proof of my merit.”

King Silas presses his lips together, his brows drawing closer together as he studies his son. “We shall see.”

Torbin’s gaze meets mine. “I shall have my hunt, and you shall have your squad missions.” When he faces his father, his eyes are widened with hope. “If you agree, of course, Father.”

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