“What’s really going on, Gandrett?” he asked, his voice a low melody, almost singing to her to trust him. “What did you do to my cousin to end up in our ancient dungeons?”
Gandrett froze. “What did you just say?” She didn’t care for whatever appearance she was supposed to keep up. He had seen her in a dress that she had soiled herself in. He had seen her bloody and distraught. And now he was tending to her wounds—almost like a friend.
Armand pulled back his hand and rested it on his thigh, eyes alert. “What did you do to end up in the dungeons?” he repeated.
“Not that,” she gestured with her good hand. “The other thing.”
He squinted his eyes, trying to read her, but Gandrett didn’t have much strength left before she’d black out from exhaustion, and she wasn’t going to waste it on trying to feign patience. “The other thing about Joshua being your cousin.”
Armand didn’t respond, face hardening as if he were damning himself for having said too much.
“You are aware what Joshua’s last name is?” She couldn’t stop herself. It was almost the same way it had overcome her when she was provoking Nehelon. The image of the Fae male’s incinerated blade flashed through her mind. Magic. She had done that.
Armand probed her gaze as if trying to read whether it was worth lying to her.
“Brenheran,” she answered for him. “His name is Joshua Brenheran.”
Armand didn’t look the slightest bit shocked.
He knew.
Of course he knew. He had been behind it from the start. He had hidden Joshua when the Brenheran mercenaries had tried to free him under Nehelon’s command. He—
“You’re shaking, Gandrett,” Armand noted, voice calm, controlled.
He dropped the cloth in the bowl, laced his fingers together, then took a deep breath as if he needed to build up courage before he closed his eyes and said, “What if I tell you I am not who you think I am?”
Gandrett had expected many reactions, but not this one. “Then, who are you, Armand Denderlain?” Her face exploded with pain as she grimaced at him, but she didn’t yield. “Is that even your real name?”
His eyes shot open, all the worry gone, the hazel-gold that was left so vulnerable it smothered Gandrett’s rising anger.
“Yes, it is my real name,” he said, his lips curling at the sides for a moment, “and yes, I am the rightful Lord of Eedwood and regent over the east of Sives—in theory.” He sighed through his nose, probing Gandrett’s gaze as if expecting her to slap it. “But I am not the man the world thinks I am. I don’t ride out there to strike down those villagers who defy my father’s rule, I don’t kill for pleasure. All I want is peace for Sives.”
His words filtered through the haze in Gandrett’s head, but they didn’t make sense. Not yet.
Yet, he didn’t halt to give her time but poured out his heart, “By bringing my cousin home, I am fulfilling my mother’s wishes for a peacefully united Sives.”
“How can he be your cousin if…”
“Aunt Linniue and Lord Tyrem Brenheran,” he simply said. “She gave up her throne when she was pregnant with Joshua and left it to my mother with the promise to, one day when Joshua was old enough, allow him to rule in Eedwood as king of Sives.”
His words hung heavy in the air. So heavy that Gandrett didn’t dare speak.
“My aunt took ill when Joshua was a baby, and she gave him to his father to look after. Of course, a marriage between the two houses was something unthinkable. It has been a thousand years since Sives has last seen a king, and with his Denderlain and Brenheran blood—Joshua is the rightful heir to both thrones and could be king of Sives. A true king.”
It took Gandrett a while to process. If this was true, she had been sent on a fool’s errand. If Joshua Brenheran—Joshua Denderlain—was the rightful heir to both reigning houses of Sives, this could be the end of war.
Then she remembered how Joshua had threatened to kill her—for what? What had she done, except for calling him by his name, that he had locked her up and threatened to kill her? Would someone like that be a good ruler? Either as lord over the west of Sives or as its king.
“But he is dangerous.” Gandrett knew from the way Armand looked at her that after what he saw in the cell, he wasn’t convinced Joshua was the dangerous one.
“You tell me, Gandrett,” he said with some heaviness. “Who attacked who down there?”
“He locked me up in a cell and left me to rot,” she bit at him.
“Why?” Armand demanded. A simple question, one that she had asked herself a moment ago.
“I don’t know.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Joshua doesn’t just attack people,” Armand claimed, “I have spent enough time around him to know he isn’t a bad man.”
“A good man wouldn’t want to kill me,” she countered.
“What did you do to earn his disfavor?” Armand asked, all gentleness gone from his voice.
Gandrett swallowed. Could it be that there was more at stake than even Nehelon knew? That maybe Joshua didn’t want to return?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The room was like the young lord himself. Elegant threaded with amusement and a heaviness that pushed down on Addie’s shoulders like a boulder of granite. Vases with small, colorful flowers sat on every surface like little suns to contrast the dark tapestries. The four-poster bed was beautiful, carved, and covered in Denderlain-blue silk sheets. She didn’t dare look there for longer than a second, for on the couch by the window, Joshua Brenheran started twitching.
She inched closer, uncertain if it was wise to be within the man’s reach.
His eyes were closed, features relaxed. Only his fingers and toes moved every now and then as if he were having a nightmare.
So she decided to be brave and pulled up a chair to sit beside him.
He appeared younger than that time she had refused him help. Shame crept up on her together with the painful realization that if she had aided him back then, Gandrett might have been spared.
His tunic had been unbuttoned halfway down his chest, exposing bandages covering the heavy burn marks she had spotted on their way up here. What was visible of his chest was smooth skin stretched over hard muscle. The body of a trained fighter covered in the elegant clothes of a noble.
Addie averted her gaze and rolled her feet back and forth to pass the time.
The young lord had undoubtedly kicked her out because he had things he wanted to discuss with Gandrett in private. They would make a beautiful pair, the two of them. She could almost see them strolling through the castle together, the young lord with his elegant, cunning stride and Gandrett with her graceful, feline movement. And the thought of it hit her right in the heart.
Don’t be silly, Addie. She folded her hands in her lap and looked out the window where the clouds were slowly turning pink and orange in the morning light. Beneath, the Eedpenesor snaked through the landscape in curves of sparkling gold. She absorbed the images, archiving them for the dark hours of her life that were sure to come once she returned to Lady Linniue empty-handed.
A groan breaking from Joshua’s lips made Addie tear away from the beauty of the lands that she was never to walk again.