Riot took her hand and pressed a kiss to the top, grinning. “You have my blessing.” He faced Davorin. They clasped forearms. “Vow to me, brother. Vow that you’ll care for her.”

“Always. I’ll give my life for her if asked,” Davorin said.

The skin pulled white over my knuckles when I clenched my fists. The captain congratulated his princess after the king, then faced Davorin. “Congratulations, scrap. Official consort and battle lord. I could not be prouder of my prodigy.”

Davorin tipped his chin. “I learned it all from you, Annon.”

After more soft words of excitement, together, Davorin and Saga left the room, practically spewing lust and satisfaction.

Only once they were gone did Riot slump back in the throne. On his face he wore a look of exhaustion, there and gone, before he straightened and nodded at the captain with the fumbling child.

“Annon,” Riot said, “I am told you have someone for me to meet.”

The guard took the boy by the cuff of his tunic and practically dragged him before the king. “Your Highness, forgive the intrusion on this blessed day for your family, but as I discussed with you regarding the thief—” The guard paused to glare at the boy. The child shuffled his muddy feet and kept his eyes trained on the stone floor until the guard went on. “And the . . . unique things he says.”

Riot rubbed a hand over his chin; his eyes locked on the child. Every few breaths the boy would lift his eyes, then hurry to look down at the floor again. A few moments later, the king stepped off the podium and stalked toward the boy.

“So, you are the urchin they found trying to steal a horse from the royal stables?”

The boy’s eyes darkened and a flush of crimson spread over his cheeks. “Wasn’t stealing no horse.”

The guard swatted the back of the boy’s head; the fur slid off to reveal a messy mop of hair, dark like damp soil, but with kisses of red as though sunlight carved through shadows. “You speak to the king, boy.”

Said king looked as though he was fighting a grin more than anything.

The boy couldn’t have been more than six or seven turns, but he puffed out his chest like a challenger against the king himself. “I didn’t have no place to sleep, and I saw the place I should go. So I went. Wasn’t my fault the stupid horse got out.”

“Left the gate open,” the guard grumbled.

Riot regarded the boy with an arched brow. “I see. When you say you saw the place you should go, do you mean with your eyes, or was it another way?”

When the boy didn’t answer, Riot crouched in front of him. “Boy, I am a busy man. I don’t have time to wait for you to save your own neck. We don’t tolerate thieves. I am needed elsewhere, so when I ask you to speak, you ought to speak.”

The boy swallowed, loud enough the gulp echoed around the room. He leaned closer to Riot and whispered, “You don’t want too many people to hear me.”

The king glanced at his captain, after a pause he gave a nod. At once, the captain ordered the guards to clear the room until only the boy, the captain, and the king remained.

“What is it you wish to say?” Riot folded his arms over his chest, waiting.

The boy cracked his skinny fingers more than once, then spoke to the floor, not the king. “I keep seeing words in my mind. They’re like the lullabies my maj used to sing. They tell me stories of . . . this place. And . . . some folk in it.”

Riot’s jaw pulsed. “You see things, words, about the royal house?”

The boy nodded.

“What kinds of things?”

“Not bad things, and mostly about the heir.”

Riot’s expression tightened. “We’ve not introduced our heir to anyone outside the walls.”

“I know. Because you . . . you weren’t sure it was safe for people to know, ‘specially the war man who . . . who just left. And you don’t like feeling that way over him because . . . you’re brothers. Sort of. Right?”

Riot looked to his captain, the threat in his eyes before it ever escaped his tongue. “Annon, if you repeat anything you might hear in this room, I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to you before I kill you.”

The captain didn’t flinch, and pounded a fist over his heart. “Riot, we’ve known each other too long for the need to threaten. Not a word, My King.”

“Tell me what you know, and how you know it,” the king said to the child.