Page 200 of Embers in the Snow

Horseshit.There’s no way they’d allow a full-blooded dryad to go free. She’d destroy them all.

I just need to play the fool; let them think I’measily swayed by emotion,as Leticia says.

“Let me see her first.” I inject a hint of desperation into my voice. “If you can show me that she’s alive and well, I’ll consider it. But you have to show me proof. Take me to her. Only then will I agree to it.”

Still, I keep pressure on Rhaegar’s neck. The old duke tries to shake his head, but he can’t move for fear the edge of my blade will bite him.

“Very well.” Ansar rises from his seat. “Let my grandfather go, and I’ll take you to her.”

“Deal.” I sheath my sword and release Rhaegar. The old man loses balance and stumbles, falling to his knees. A hiss of pain escapes him. “Lead the way, dear brother. And remember that if you try anything stupid, your head will be separated from your neck before you realize it.”

In response, Ansar holds up his hands, showing me the red threads. “I don’t think you’d want to do that. Kill me before I release her life-thread, and the dryad’s as good as dead. Come with me,dearbrother.”

Rhaegar and Leticia start to follow.

Ansar turns around and glares at them. “Only me.I’lldeal with him alone.”

“Ansar,” the old duke growls. “We shall join you. I insist. Corvan Duthriss is not to be underestimated.”

“And neither am I,” my brother snaps, his eyes widening. “I told you, it will beonly me!”

All of a sudden, he’s shouting, and yet his mother and grandfather don’t look the least bit surprised—as if they’re used to this sort of thing.

And they’re a little bit afraid of him, it seems.

Interesting. Either Ansar is unhinged, or he’s a very good actor.

“Summon what’s left of your armies, grandfather,” Ansar snaps. “We will go down into the crypts, and you will seal the entrance behind us. Donotenter until I return. Or do you think I can’t handle this? Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to become strong?” He stalks back toward Rhaegar, his feet silent on the polished timber floor. He’s completely barefoot. “Careful, grandfather. I can see your life-thread.”

Rhaegar Talavarra stops dead in his tracks. “Don’t you fuckingdare,boy.”

Leticia says nothing. She just looks at her son, and her expression is strange; a mixture of awe, fear, and pride.

Ansar just laughs. “Let’s go,vampyr-brother. I will take you to the dryad, and you will give me what I want.” He dances away on bare feet, leaving me with little choice but to follow.

And so I walk after him, because all this time, I’ve wanted nothing more than to be in the same room as Finley’s mother; to see her, to feel her presence, toknowthat she’s alive.

To be within reach of her.

I’ve seen the effect my magic has on Finley.

I can’t imagine what it would do to a full-blooded dryad.

In my experience, wars are won not just on strategy, but on faith and risks. A commander has to know the people around him.

I know that Finley and the Elite Guard will overcome the danger they face. Power seethes just beneath her gentle surface—before I left her, I couldfeel it.

She’s under the protection of the godlike ancient tree.

I know that Aralya loved her daughter enough to place a seal on her—hiding her true nature from the dangerous world. And she put a curse on Lucar Solisar so that he could never harm her.

I know that my mother never wanted to hurt Aralya, even though the dryad’s potent blood drove her to madness.

It’sherpower that I’ve inherited.

The Talavarras think they know me.

They don’t.

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