Page 143 of Warlord's Plaything

The paper is worn, edges burnt, but I pry it open with shaking hands.

The words inside are quick, sharp, and straight to the point.

A message from the Council.

A message from Kaelith.

A message confirming what I already fucking knew?—

And what Hira refuses to see.

"The deal is secured. The poison has been provided. Your warlord will not survive the month. When his son falls, you will rule the ashes. The chieftains agree to uphold their end of the agreement. Your victory is assured."

I can’t fucking breathe.

This was never just about war.

Kaelith didn’t just kill my father.

The orc warlords helped him do it.

And now… Now they want Hira as a prize.

"Fucking bastards,” Igrowl.

My hands are shaking, my nails digging into my palms as I stare down at the betrayal in my hands.

This is the proof.

This is what I need to stop her.

But fuck—fuck?—

This means something worse.

This means Menias knew.

He’s known this whole time.

He didn’t come to save Hira.

He came to deliver her to them.

He came to tie a bow around her throat and hand her over to the same people who slaughtered her mother, the same people who poisoned my father.

I take a slow, shuddering breath.

I shove the letter into my coat.

Then I pick up the vial.

Dark liquid, thick, almost black under the dim torchlight.

Poison.

Orc-made.

A death sentence in a glass bottle.

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