Page 88 of Embers in the Snow

“Wehaveactually met,” I say mildly. “And by now, I’d think you would know better than to address me improperly.”

“Y-your Highness.” Trembling, disbelieving, he executes a stiff bow. “Forgive my impropriety.”

“Sit,” I order, addressing him as if he were a dog.

Petty I may be, but hehurtFinley. I can’t forgive that.

Knowing her history, knowing his kind, seeing the way she responds, it’s happened more than once.

A beast doesn’t change its nature.

You’re only here because I’m trying to show that I can be a family man. If Finley didn’t ask me to spare your life, you would be dead.

With bitterness, resentment, and fear seeping from every pore, the Baron Solisar allows Rugar to seat him.

“Corvan,” Finley whispers, clutching my arm all of a sudden. “Please.”

I’m pleased that she’s comfortable enough to seize me like that; to make such urgent demands of me. I lean in, making sure Solisar sees me as I put my lips close to her ear. “Why? He’s disrespected you and my men, and I despise craven, shameless people. I know his type, Finley. I can’t even imagine what your life has been like. You don’t have to begoodfor the sake of it, you know. You don’t ever have to forgive him.”

She doesn’t react with outrage or anger. Instead, she looks up at me, her eyes wide and shimmering, filled with something other than spite. “That’s a lot to assume about me. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s my father, and right now, he looks rather pathetic, don’t you think?”

She has all my power at her disposal, and yet she refuses to pour salt in her tormentor’s wounds.

Family ties are strange indeed. I know that all too well.

The noise in the great hall is starting to become a cacophony to my sensitive ears. I go still and focus, using her unmistakable scent to ground me. Behind us, there’s a shuffle of footsteps; a creaking of wheels.

The lads have arrived, skilfully marshalled by a young servant called Daron. Two brothers and one friend, all wet behind the ears and reckless; the way most boys are at this age.

“Finley, why are you withhim?This red-eyed bastard? And…father?You’re here?What’s going on?”

She turns around, her face turning ashen. “Kastel,”she chides, transforming from the alluring woman I know into a stern older sister. She steps away from me, fronting up to her brother. Her voice drops to a near-whisper, but I can hear her perfectly. “Have some manners when you’re meeting people for the first time. You never know who you might be speaking to.”

The offender is a lad just on the cusp of manhood. With his tall, lanky frame, tousled sandy hair, and clear blue eyes, he’s starkly different to Finley, but there are subtle similarities in their features.

I can’t help but chuckle softly as I discreetly motion for Daron to take leave of his duties. Such youthful impudence. It’s hardly surprising these lads rushed here to save their sister in the middle of a Tyron winter without a second thought.

In truth, I owe them greatly. I’m told they saved Finley’s life.

A tendril of cold anger stirs within me, mingling with my arousal. That fucking baron and my bloody father. Something must be happening in Lukiria. Maybe my father is weaker than what he lets on.

Baron Solisar looks at his sons and seethes quietly. The sons look back at him, surprised and uncertain. He pushes his chair back as if to stand and half-opens his mouth, but I silence him with a look.

Stay in your place, Lucar.

“I don’t care who he is.” Kastel lowers his voice, but his eyes are fierce. “He’s a fuckingdemon.”

“That’s not the full story, Kastel,” she snaps. “Believe me when I tell you that you donotwant to anger this man.”

“Why are you defending him? Has he threatened you? Because I’ll—”

The kid’s getting a little too heated. I move forward to intervene, but the older brother, Aderick, is ahead of me, tugging sharply on his brother’s sleeve. “Oi, brother. You need to take it easy, all right? If not for this guy and his people, I’d be a frozen corpse right now.”

The elder brother is more heavily built than Kastel. Beneath his grey coat and the generous white shirt that hides skilfully wrapped bandages, he’s broad and muscular. The lad’s clearly been training, and he knows how to throw his weight around.

He turns toward me, wincing slightly as he executes a semblance of a bow. “Your Imperial Highness. Please forgive my brother. Half a pint is all it takes to get him to loosen his tongue and go ballistic defending my sister’s honor. But like me, he understands little of the situation, even though he means well.”

Aderick’s figured out who I am.

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