“When we are settled here,” he told Kelir, “secure our passage on a bargeship and take horses and provisions aboard.”
His mouth full of pricklefruit, the warrior nodded. Kelir had thrown a multitude of questioning glances at Maddek since leaving the bridge, yet he hadn’t questioned Maddek’s decision to seek help from the Gogean prince.
And he hadn’t known it wasn’t Maddek’s decision, except in Maddek’s decision to follow her lead. Because Yvenne had spoken fiercely to him about being a warrior or a king, yet not so loudly the others could hear. They only knew that after a fiery conversation with her, he’d altered their plans.
They would follow him into a battle or into an opulent palace. But he could see Kelir’s relief that another option was still available to them—one that did not depend on the protection of a Gogean prince.
A prince whose character Yvenne knew well. A character that did not match what Oren had described.
There was clear resemblance between Oren and Cadus. Maddek might have known who he was even without introduction. The two princes shared the same brown hair and wiry frame, the same broad nose and narrow face. Yet Cadus had a quiet and thoughtful manner Oren did not. And knowing now how the Gogean queen had once admired Zhalen’s methods, Oren’s description of his brother as weak might only have meant that Cadus had refused to crush unhappy farmers.
And his only fault was standing so firm he might break rather than bend.
His only fault.
“Ran Maddek.” Kelir raised an amused voice, watching him with a laughing gaze. “Do you think a fool’s thoughts?”
All of his warriors regarded him in the same manner. Because he was snarling to himself, and all but tearing through the floor as he stalked again to the archway.
Because Yvenne had brought them to the palace of a man that her mother had chosen over Maddek. The palace of a man the goddess Vela had urged her to consider.
Yvenne had vowed she would not seek marriage with another. Maddek trusted that vow. Still poisonous jealousy ate at him. He needed no counsel for that. He knew they were a fool’s thoughts.
The warriors were no fools. They’d heard Vela speak of a suitor who lived in this city. It was no great leap to guess that the goddess meant Cadus.
“You heard Yvenne’s vow?” he asked them and when they nodded, that was all that needed to be said. “I have no reason for jealousy.”
Kelir’s eyes narrowed. “What were Vela’s words to you?”
Words? They’d not been mere words. They’d been blades the goddess had used to strike through his heart.
In bed and in battle, a warrior is too dependent upon his sword. Until you have the heart of a king, you will never truly have her and you will never truly protect her—and because you lack a king’s heart, you will lose her.
Lose her. As he’d lost his parents.
“They are words best left unsaid,” he told them hoarsely. And words best left unthought.
He would not lose her.
“Ran Maddek.” No amusement remained in Kelir’s voice now; there was only the head of the Dragon. “Do you need counsel?”
Throat raw, Maddek shook his head.
“Vela only tests you,” Banek said, giving counsel anyway. “As the goddess does with those she favors, so they might accomplish all of which they are capable. She prodded at your jealousy and your character, but only because she sees all that you might be. As we do.”
Maddek cared not if he was favored by a goddess. “And Yvenne’s suffering? Why prod her with a threat of pain?”
Shadows crossed the older warrior’s face. “It is not a prod. It is a kindness, so that your bride will be prepared.”
“A kindness would be to prevent it.”
And if the goddess would not prevent it, Maddek would. Vela had claimed that Maddek could not truly protect her, but he would.
He vowed it.
Jaw clenched, he turned to the closed door—which opened before he took a step. Out came Yvenne, wine goblet in hand and a satisfied smile curving her full mouth, Cadus’s robed figure at her side. “I will prepare a letter to my sister regarding your hope for a new balance between members of the alliance after you have married the commander and secured your throne. I believe your proposal will be much happily received.”
“It is a proposal happily extended.” She caught sight of Maddek, and her brows arched. Perhaps in query why he appeared ready to rip apart a palace with his bare hands.
“Commander.” The prince approached him, reassurance warming his voice. “You have served the alliance well, and I was very sorry to hear what befell your parents. I thought then the circumstances were strange but trusted the council had resolved all questions. This new account of what occurred is quite troubling.”
Troubling? Maddek gritted his teeth.
His father murdered and accused of assaulting a woman, troubling. His mother imprisoned and raped and beheaded, troubling. Their two Dragons executed and silenced, troubling. His heart ripped from his chest and thousands of Parsatheans grieving their queen and king, troubling.
Such words were as offensive as sly tongue. Not lies, but truth pale and thin, as if starved of conviction. It was the speech of men who believed that truth had many sides, so they carefully walked in the center, without committing to anything.
“Given such widely different accounts of events, and that your bride believes there will be an attempt to silence the truth, I offer you and your warriors my protection until this matter is resolved by the alliance council.”
It would be resolved by Maddek’s sword. Still he nodded with gritted teeth, accepting that protection. Even if it only lasted until they left by cover of quiet night and boarded a ship north.
Yvenne came to Maddek’s side, her hand curling possessively around his biceps. “I wonder if we might be given quarters separate from the rest of the household and guests?” From beneath her lashes, she cast a shy glance up at Cadus. “For it is my moon night, and Ran Maddek’s attentions have so far been quite . . . vigorous. But if we have privacy, he will disturb no one with his bellows and grunts.”
“Of course,” the prince smoothly replied over the Parsatheans’ choked laughter. “We will celebrate the blessed event as we sup together with your brother and Minister Gareth. My attendants will escort you there now, so you may bathe and make ready for their arrival.”
Yvenne bowed her head. “I am in your debt, Prince Cadus.”
In his debt? Only barely did Maddek stop his growl. His bride owed no one.
“The honor of helping you is mine,” the prince said. And that was truth, at least.