Page 8 of King's Warrior

They were still friends. “I won’t let anyone look down on you,” Draylon said after correcting two soldiers who thought Rufe fair game for cruelty. “And neither will you.”

And neither will you.Many things fell out of Rufe’s control, but he’d hold his head high, if for no other reason than to make Draylon proud. His instructors already considered him deadly with a sword. He’d become deadlier. They thought him lethal with a dagger. He’d become more lethal. He’d also protect the helpless, like the farm family he’d seen slaughtered. For himself, his fallen comrades, and for Draylon.

He'd be the best damned warrior Cormira had ever seen.

King’s Warrior (Warriors Book 2) Chapter One

“Idon’t know how long we can continue like this, Mother.” King Niam Fjell stared out the window at the bleak Delletinian landscape. Fat snowflakes fell steadily, the grayness of the day hiding the mountains that rose on either side of the old keep he’d retreated to for a break from court life.

If only he could’ve brought Quillan and Uri. Gods, he missed his boys.

“But we have so much gold after discovering that vein in our mountains,” Mother replied from her brocaded chair near the fire. Many royal ladies might practice their needlepoint. Instead, Delletina's queen mother polished her favorite dagger.

Niam nodded, moving from the window to the fireplace of his mother's solar, closer to her chair. He leaned an elbow on the mantel, watching her with tired eyes. “Yes, we have gold. Gold Craice would overrun our kingdom for.”

Mother scoffed. “Do you believe the empire would be any different?”

“Not with Emperor Soland Aravaid. I’m told his son is much more reasonable.” Which wouldn’t be a lofty accomplishment. Rumor said Emperor Soland listened to no one’s counsel but his own, always finding a scapegoat to blame when his scheming failed, convinced he could do no wrong.

“Do you plan to wait until Soland dies?” Mother narrowed her eyes. “Or do you have some nefarious plan I don’t know about for hurrying him to his grave? I’d happily help you.” She tossed and caught her dagger, a malevolent gleam in her eyes.

“Mother!” Niam barked in horror. Her grin calmed his ire. Somewhat. He smirked. “Only if I could get away with it.”

She playfully batted his arm. “You’d do no such thing. But I might.”

Niam sighed. He didn’t know if she jested. She certainly knew her way around daggers and had once disarmed a man intent on kidnapping an infant Niam. “It would make things so much easier. Between fires, sinkholes, harsh winters, and other calamities, we have enough stores for two more winters before our people feel the pinch if we can't replenish them. Craice wants only to take, as does Soland. He won’t even offer us soldiers to protect against our enemies for fear we’ll use his forces against him.” It seemed Niam’s title wasn’t the only one to come equipped with a dose of paranoia.

“Like a flatlander could fight in our mountains.” Mother slipped the dagger into a sheath hidden in the folds of her skirt. She refocused on the embroidery hoop in her lap, working a stylish vine design into a tunic—no doubt she could cause serious injury with a needle as surely as with a blade.

“Who is that for?” Niam asked, nodding at the cloth in her lap.

“I received word that your cousin Yarif is now shackled to Soland’s younger son, Draylon Aravaid. This is intended as a wedding gift. I’ll also send a braided silk rope in case he needs to strangle his new husband. Only the finest for our Yarif.”

Sometimes, Niam’s mother scared him. “Does Yarif even remember us? He was a child the last I saw of him. His father hasn’t allowed communication since the death of Yarif’s mother. You say he’s now a part of the emperor’s family? That didn’t take long.”

“King Lleval did plot against the emperor, though he wasn’t cunning enough to be successful. Shallow as a mud puddle, that one. Got himself killed for treason along with his heir. Soland’s son Draylon Aravaid is the new king of Renvalle, with Yarif as king consort.”

How did Mother know these things before Niam? He slammed his hand onto the mantel, which didn’t even elicit a flinch from his mother, nor did she cease her stitching. “With his brother and father dead, Yarif is the rightful king.”

Mother looked up then. “Although you haven’t seen him since he was a child, he’s still the same sweet boy he used to be. The people love him, but Renvalle needs a strong leader in these troubled times, like the warrior kings of old. I hope this Draylon is reasonable. If he possesses any intelligence, he’ll listen to Yarif. My spies tell me no love is lost between the two, but not all good matches require love.”

She must be talking about Alyss. Yes, Niam’s arrangement with her had been better than most political unions, but now Alysswas with the man she’d loved for most of her life. While Niam respected her, it could never have been an abiding love. Not like Mother and Father had shared.

Mother resumed her stitching. “We shall see. Perhaps this King Draylon will be open to our pleas for help and prove more open-minded than his father.”

The hard-headed Delletinian nobles were more open-minded than Soland Aravaid. “You know our nobles want nothing to do with the empire. They fear Soland will confiscate their lands and give their titles to his favorites. Which is why I’d rather deal with Soland’s heir.”

“Avestan,” Mother provided.

“Avestan, then. Yes, I’d rather deal with him.”

“We don’t know how Draylon will react when he learns of his consort’s connection to the Delletinian royal family. I doubt anyone volunteered the information.”

If Soland’s spies knew of the kinship, they’d surely have told by now. “Few know of the link. It’s been a very long time since we communicated with Yarif. He might not remember us.”

“All he needs to do is meet you to know you’re related. His mother and I favored each other quite a bit.”

“Perhaps Yarif doesn’t remember his mother.”