Page 80 of The Second Death of Locke
She sent a quick jolt of assurance through the tether.
There was still the matter of Cleoc. She turned to them when the High Lord was gone, her eyes softer. “You did not harm her,” she said. A statement, not a question.
Kier bowed his head, moving easily into command. “I would never.”
A smile played on her lips, but it did not reach her eyes. “Even though, I hear, it would’ve been force to equal what she dealt you, Captain Seward,” she said mildly. “I know this is… a situation none of us expected. And you may see me as your enemy.”
“As you may see us,” Kier said.
“But let that not be anymore. From this day on—no matter what happens between our nations—you have a place at my table. Cleoc Strata will welcome you with open arms for the deeds you have done for my daughter.”
“It was an honor,” Grey said. She did not say,Even though the First Daughter stabbed my mage, because she was able to forgive and forget—mostly. Sela shot her a tight smile, as if she could read Grey’s mind.
Cleoc went down the line to each of them, pressing a kiss to the back of their hands and handing each a silver pin embossed with an obsidian moon, matching the symbol on the crest of Cleoc Strata. “An honor, in our nation,” she explained, “for those who have exhibited true bravery.”
Grey didn’t hesitate. She buttoned the little moon on her chest.
“Thank you for your kindness, your grace,” Kier said.
Cleoc nodded, then moved to wait by the door. Sela stayed back for a moment, her eyes wet, kohl streaked underneath. Grey leaned forward to wipe the streaks away.
“I’m sorry for all the trouble,” Sela said.
“Kid, you got me early retirement.”
“And six months of leave,” Ola said from the end of the line.
“And out of that fucking terrible encampment,” Brit added.
“Language,” Kier sighed, eyes rolling skyward.
“Will you visit?”
All hesitated. They’d been killing her countrymen for as long as they’d been fighting—but perhaps there was a way to move on from that.
“Yes,” she promised before the others could say no. She leaned in and kissed Sela on the cheek, then drew her into her arms.
Close enough that no one else could hear, with her face pressed into Grey’s neck, Sela whispered, “Will I see you on Locke?”
Grey’s fingers dug into the girl’s back, a warning and a thank-you. “Maybe when you’re older,” she murmured into Sela’s hair.
They were not needed for the meeting between Scaelas and Cleoc, nor were they invited. One of the soldiers led them to the ballroom, where a party was already in full swing, the room crowded with officers and higher-ups from Grislar and surrounding camps and courtiers that Grey only vaguely knew the titles of. Despite the fact that the whole retinue was the reason for the party, people only wanted to talk to Kier, so she hung back with Eron as Kier drew his own little crowd.
“The captain looks handsome tonight,” Eron said, sipping his wine, leaning against her so no one could cut between them.
“Healwayslooks handsome,” Grey lamented into her own glass. She glanced over the rim just in time to see Kier laugh, the dimple deepening in his cheek, and sighed.
“I’m sorry for any marks on your record,” she said after a moment.
Eron shrugged. “I probably deserve it for feeding you poison for three weeks.”
“Fair point, well made.”
He hesitated, looking around, probably checking who was nearby; but he didn’t realize that a crowded ballroom was sometimes the best place for secrets. “Will you need help, Grey?”
“That’s Eron to you.”
“My question stands.”
