Page 29 of Given

He didn’t need to say anything else. “Where?”

“By the privy in the courtyard.”

“Gods,” I muttered. This day was never going to fucking end. “Stay here and make sure none of the stragglers give the serving girls a hard time.”

“Yes, my lord.”

I went to the moonlit courtyard, where I found my sister pressed against a wall by a knight who was doing his best to fit his whole head inside her mouth.

“That’s enough,” I growled, grabbing the male’s jacket in both hands and tossed him aside.

He stumbled, caught himself, and whirled around drunkenly. “What the fu—” He snapped his jaw shut as he saw who’d grabbed him. A brazier burned nearby, and the light from its flames danced over his panicked expression. “M-My lord.”

“See me in the morning,” I said through clenched teeth.

He paled.

“Go.”

He left, his booted steps quick on the fine gravel.

Evelina leaned against the wall. The tips of her fangs showed as she smirked at me. “Impressive, big brother. He was half your size.”

“Do you even know his name?”

“Does it matter?”

I stepped closer. “He had his tongue down your throat. I can guarantee Martin of Lar Plestes will hear of this. What do you think he’ll say?” Her betrothed was an honorable knight—and a male with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of patience—but it was only a matter of time before Evelina’s scandals soured him on the marriage contract I’d signed.

Her smirk disappeared. “Why don’t you ask him? You know him far better than I do.”

“And whose fault is that?”

She shrugged. Her long, golden hair was a tangled mess. She wore some kind of dark paint around her eyes. It made them bigger—and bluer. Looking at her, all I could see was the solemn little girl who’d traced bloody glyphs on my shield on the rare occasions I’d returned home after winning my knighthood. There were thirteen years between us. Even if I’d been able to tolerate sharing a roof with my father, Lina and I were never destined to be close.

But we were the only family either of us had left. She was my responsibility. I was determined to see her settled and wed—and away from the debauchery of court. I was tired of hearing her name on lips that had nothing kind to say about her.

“Straighten your clothes. I’m taking you to your room.”

She dropped the pretense of nonchalance, her tone becoming clipped. “Thank you, but no. I don’t need an escort.”

“Yes, you fucking do. Every time I turn my back you’re sullying yourself for the whole court to see.”

She pushed off the wall. Her eyes flashed as she glared up at me. “Sullying myself?”

“Did you mishear me, Sister? You’ve fucked your way through every skirt-chaser in Lar Katerin.”

“Why does it matter what I do—”

“Keep your voice down—”

“—when you’re just going to marry me off and forget about me?”

“If only I could forget,” I growled. I leaned toward her. “What I should do is send you to the cloister in the Wastes. Maybe some time with the priestesses will help you remember your duty.”

“Do it,” she spat. “Let all of Nor Doru see what a hypocrite you are.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Gods, she had nerve. As her guardian, I had full authority over her. I could keep her locked in her room on bread, blood, and water and no one would say a word about it.

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