Page 17 of A Queen This Fierce and Deadly

It wasn’t often that my brother looked uncomfortable. Almost…awkward. “Can we talk somewhere more private?”

Despite my dark mood, curiosity burned through me. My brother was acting strangely, indeed.

Nodding, I followed him to the cabin Daharak had given him. This part of the ship was quiet, most people likely above us on the main deck, enjoying the fresh air.

Conreth’s cabin was the same size as mine and spotlessly clean. Likely, he’d warded the cabin to prevent any accumulation of dust.

My brother remained standing. I studied his face, watching the way his eyes darkened, his lips thinned, and then…trembled.

“What is it?”

He seemed to steel himself, meeting my eyes once more. “I heard what your mate said. I killed you. And Prisca brought you back.”

Not for the first time, I was at a loss with my brother. His jaw tightened at my silence. And I truly looked at him. That was…devastation in his eyes. He watched me as if I were still dead, with the knowledge that he was the one responsible.

“Conreth—”

“If not for her and her time magic, you’d be dead. By my hand.”

“You heard what Prisca said. Regner used his mirror.”

“The effect would be the same.”

Fury suddenly burned through my chest. “What would you like me to say, Conreth? We didn’t talk before or during the battle. I worked with the others to strategize, while you refused to communicate, attacking whomever and whatever you wanted. You knew of Regner’s ward. If you’d thought logically, you would have known your attack wouldn’t be successful, and you would have known he’d allowed the wards to falter in an attempt to trap you when you killed his generals. But you weren’t thinking logically,” I snarled. “You were functioning out of arrogance and ego, hoping you could kill Regner where he stood and everything could go back to the way it has always been.”

The blood had drained from Conreth’s face, and I let out a humorless laugh. “Did you imagine Regner’s death would make me reconsider choosing Prisca? Do you truly think that is why I chose her? Because of my need to be at her side during war?”

Conreth’s eyes had lightened—the only sign my words had an effect. “You’re right. It was my arrogance that did this. My inability to accept your choice. I’m sorry, Lorian.”

For a moment, all I could do was stare at him. Never had I heard a true apology from my brother.

My throat unlocked. “Apologize to Prisca.”

He nodded. “I will.”

It was difficult to trust this man impersonating my brother. For an absurd moment, I wondered if Regner had infiltrated him somehow. But no, the misery in Conreth’s eyes couldn’t be feigned.

When I didn’t speak, his shoulders slumped. “I want to truly ally with you and…Prisca. I want us to work together to win this war. I will return to our kingdom and attempt to sway the wardens. You can have full access to Hevdrin and all my generals. You were right—you know this continent better than I do.”

Any other time, I would have felt sheer triumph at his words. But I knew the price of those words, and it left a bitter taste in my mouth. Prisca had nearly died to bring me back. She couldn’t use her power. And who knew what the true consequences would be for defying the gods?

“Do you need anything else?” Conreth asked into the silence.

“Yes. We need you to take Jamic with you. He has so much power, it rivals some of our wardens. Teach him how to wield it in battle against Rekja.”

“Done.”

I couldn’t find it in me to thank my brother. All I could do was nod and stalk toward the door, attempting to ignore the regret in his eyes.

PRISCA

“Enough fussing,” I begged. We stood on the deck, where I was finally enjoying some fresh air. Lorian hovered, one hand clamped around my arm in case I felt dizzy.

He just sent me a look caught somewhere between amusement and pure male stubbornness.

“You need to rest.”

“Lorian.” I’d had two days of resting, and this morning, I’d woken up starving. It was as if my body wanted to replace everything I hadn’t eaten since the battle. Lorian kept watching me eat with a pleased, smug expression on his face.

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