Page 46 of The Iron Dagger
His father sat heavily in his chair. “It was an ill move, but I can make something of it. I just need time to think.”
Relief touched Gideon. This was how it had always been. His father could fix anything. Spin around an opponent, make lies become truths, find the luck in an unlucky situation. He was Corvus’ right-hand man for good reason.
“The men were valuable, but it is no great loss. Sometimes sacrifices must be made. I’m more sorry they died for such a foolhardy plan.”
“We’ll have to tell their families,” said Gideon, tampering down his outrage at his father’s casual dismissal of his men’s lives.
“I’ll leave that happy task to you, Gideon. You’ve earned that.”
So be it. Gideon took out a sheaf of papers containing his notes and sales records from his journey. He had been away for two seasons, so the sheaf was thick.
“My reports,” he said, setting them on the desk. “The Lenwen king is traveling south to end his tour along the coast. He will be taking a ship and disembarking soon, if he hasn’t already. It is still unknown where the Norwen Steward is spending his tour. He’s practically disappeared.”
“What was the princess doing in Norwen?” asked his father, rifling through the papers.
“She disgraced herself at her debut ball. The gossip at the palace is that she was sent to a convent, but she was really sent in disgrace to live as a peasant. She’s living with some bard in a hovel.”
“Hmm. Could this bard have any resemblance to the Steward?”
Gideon scoffed. “Why would the Steward live as a peasant? A tour is supposed to be a luxurious affair.”
“He’s an odd one. We’ve been observing him for years. He talks the same talk as his warmonger father, but I’ve yet to see actions match words. A word of advice—never be surprised. Expect the most unlikely scenario.”
“Even if he decided to live as a serf for his tour, why would the princess be with him? They are warring nations. The dowager queen would never trust her daughter to his care. It makes no sense.”
“Why, indeed,” said his father, stroking his upper lip thoughtfully. He picked up the papers again. “I’ll review these. Anything else?”
The words were almost on Gideon’s lips.Why didn’t you send a search party for me?Instead he said, “I would advise you to send riders out to recall the search party. There’s no need now.”
His father seemed to be lost in reading the papers, but his eyes were not moving. Finally, he spoke. “Yes, of course. Thank you for reminding me.”
Gideon stood, made a short bow, and made to leave his father’s chambers with a worrying clench in his gut. A soft voice stilled him.
“I don’t care where you dip your wick, but you can’t be seen consorting with that type.”
Gideon’s spine stiffened. Ignoring his mind screaming at him for his stupidity, he said, “What type is that?”
After the glowing praise his father had heaped on magic-kind in front of Hara, he needed to hear him say it.
His father looked up with a furrowed brow, coldness etched in every line of his face. “There’s no need to play the idiot. I can see she’s already worked some enchantment over you, and it ends now. You know I will not hesitate to remove her if she is inconvenient. Remember that.”
Gideon swallowed, believing the threat and thankful that it was within his control. He could be discreet. “There is nothing to remember. She has only my gratitude, nothing more.”
His father grunted and waved him away, and with that, Gideon was dismissed.
TEN
Angharad
Arattling tray and a clatter broke Hara out of a fitful doze. She’d struggled to sleep last night after the revelation that the unassuming bureaucrat she’d met had been the man she was most afraid of since she was a child. The witch snatcher himself. Her gut had churned with unease, her fretful mind convincing her that he knew exactly who she was and even now was assembling guards at her door to drag her out and into a dungeon.
Blearily, she opened her eyes and looked at who had entered her room. If they were a guard, they were rather petite. Hara sat up and rubbed her face.
“Oh!” chirped a voice. “Good morning, Mistress. Sleep well?”
“Good morning. Not particularly well,” said Hara, her voice scratching.
“Well, we can change the bed to your liking. Just lay back and say what you’d like,” said the chambermaid, coming to Hara’s bedside. She had a cloud of blonde ringlets and wore an elaborately trimmed apron. The starched ruffles reached her ears.
