Page 17 of Faeling
It would take more than that to break her glamour, but the sudden invasion of her space rattled her enough that she had to actively think about maintaining the disguise. Her mother’s face glared right back at the lord commander, an expression Aine rarely if ever made in her own life.
Ulrich only grunted, eyes squinting as if to try and peel away her glamour.
Her guts went cold with the unnerving thought—does he know?
No, that was impossible.
He could suspect whatever he wanted. He couldn’t prove anything.
“Jumpy,” he accused.
“Do you often go around accosting women, commander?”
“You didn’t answer my question. Where were you?”
“You asked me no such thing.”
A tendon in his jaw ticked. “I’m asking you now.”
Ravenna opened her mouth to tell him he hadn’t, in fact, asked her then either but thought better of it. Shehadpromised Oberon, and keeping herself safe didn’t start with a night in the citadel’s dark, dank dungeon.
“As you say, I went for a walk.”
“All day?”
Ravenna smiled nastily. “Anxious for my return, were you?”
“You test my patience, wench. You may have the ear of our king, but that means nothing if I believe you to be a threat.”
“I’m no such thing,” she hissed. “I have only ever been loyal toour king. I’ve served him faithfully.”
Ulrich grunted again, nostrils flaring. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
Ravenna refused to rise to his bait, for she knew she’d done nothing to endanger or threaten King Vallek. Claimed or not, she wouldneverseek to harm her ownazai.
Ulrich was all hot air. The more concerning thing was why he made his threats and insinuations now?
“I don’t know how to convince you, lord commander. That is something between you and your conscience. Now, are we done? I’m tired from my walk.”
Leaning down, he leveled his gaze with hers. “Next time, don’t go out so far or so long.”
Biting her cheek so hard it nearly bled, Ravenna nodded.
He didn’t move from her path, but he also didn’t stop her when Ravenna righted her cowl and resumed walking, leaving a wide berth between them.
—mountain mist—a hundred thundering feet—blood sprayed upon the cliff-face—a commander’s cry—
Ravenna halted as quickly as she’d started, the vision passing over her sight. It was a more enigmatic set of images, but she could extrapolate enough that she turned to meet his scowl again. The smile she gave him was downright evil, and she relished how his scowl slipped just a little with unease at the sight.
“I would avoid cliffs in future if I were you, my lord. Good evening.”
Vallek was just finishing his work looking over missives from the townships around Lake Lovath when Ulrich found him. It was already fairly late, and Brynhíl had been good enough to bring his dinner to where he worked in the smaller council chamber. The remains of his food sat further down the table, his papers arrayed before him.
Fishing estimates were good, with hearty numbers of trout and pike, and taxes were flowing smoothly. Only a handful of criminal cases had needed his attention, as well as a few proposed town laws. All in all, the region of the southern Griegens was thriving, and Vallek was damn proud of it.
So when Ulrich came marching through the door, that burr-in-his-boot look on his face, Vallek could only sigh and bid his good mood farewell.
Pouring himself an indulgent second cup of his preferred sweet wine, Vallek said, “Good evening, lord commander.”
