I catch the Guide’s smirk, half-hidden against Kevan’s chest.
My replacement has big, round rodent eyes and smooth hands; he’s the small, soft kind, who stands at the back of a fight, expecting to be protected.
Or better yet—stays indoors.
Guides from well-connected families never leave the palace.
Who cares if there’s a war?
“People are watching,” the Guide says coyly, hiding his blush in Kevan’s shirt.
A shadow twirls my ring finger, and a blast of heat bakes my cheek.
Vhex and Remy aren’t tuned in to the soap opera.
Their eyes and souls are on me.
Always.
Something loosens inside me.
“Duke Kyorgos.” I greet him with a rank-appropriate nod, proud of how clearly my voice comes out. “Our scouts have sent updated enemy positions. Let me show you the map. I’ll explain?—”
“You?” Kevan asks archly. He takes in the grassy platform and dilapidated base in the distance. Then his gaze flicks to the Sentinels at my back. “Not them?”
My boot heel cracks through a layer of baked mud.
Kevan’s voice is always the same.
Cold, deep, and sharp—especially when it’s pointed at me.
His eyes are the same, too. That deep, glacial blue.
I knew they were cold.
I don’t know why I never noticed their contempt.
“They’re mine.” I twist my arm so thateveryonecan see my badge. “But you can talk to me. I’m acting as the Farguard’s commander. Let me?—”
“That won’t be necessary.” Kevan tucks his Guide under one arm, then reaches to me and flicks his fingers. “Give me the badge.”
My heartbeat echoes in my throat. “Thatwon’t be necessary. You manage your guard, I’ll manage mine.”
“I spoke with the palace.” Kevan draws himself back, showing off the long line of his aristocratic nose. The bone-pale tinge of his skin makes him look ill when he starts to draw his power; that’s the cost of necromancy. But when he’s not wearing his lich skull, he’s noble to the core. “I’m here to determine the truth of your reports in my capacity as a general of the Eastern Legion. You have many skills, Iris, but command is a stretch of your capabilities.”
The air whooshes from my lungs. “Mycapabilities?”
From the Deathguard ranks, a Sentinel mutters. “Oh shit.”
“Maintain order,” Kevan barks.
Violence ripples at my back.
Remy coils, ruthless and ready to precision-strike. Vhex seethes with the need to turn another lawn into a volcano and kick bodies down the lava chute.
Both of them are mine to unleash.
I love the feeling.