Page 100 of To Touch A Silent Fury
“We’re less than a week into Tanmer, father,” I responded.
He sniffed. “I proposed to your mother on the night we met.”
“And look how that turned out,” I said, coolly.
My father reddened, the anger touching the tips of his ears. “I have two healthy and strong male heirs. You should only hope your marriage is as successful.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Then I pity my future wife if your union is the pinnacle I might aspire to.”
Chaethor purred her approval, but chastised me nonetheless.You play with fire.
A fire he started when he beheaded her, I returned.
My father stepped forwards and slapped my cheek, hard. My head whipped, but I did not cry out nor change my face.
Banrillen smiled.
My father stared at me. Age had bent his back, and he stood inches smaller than me. But even old and frail as he was, there was a warning in his gaze hard to ignore. I knew being his kinwas not enough to save me if I crossed too many of his lines. “You will choose.”
“Yes, father,” I replied, blinking back the tears in my eyes. The pain was hot against my cheek, and I clenched my hand to keep from touching it.
Francillin’s inclusion had surprised me initially, when he pointed her out to me. At nearly eight spans, she was over a span my senior. A scholar, by way of interests, and a spinster, by way of circumstance. But when my aunt, Derynallis, reminded me that she was first cousin to Canenrill, King of the Scentlands, her inclusion on the list made sense.
What better way to reforge the alliance with the Scentlands, than for the Scourge of Courvin (as I will forever be to them) to marry into Canenrill’s family, just as his wife Queen Hyamis had been forced to forty years ago. I thought it fucking odd that Francillin would agree to marry Brascillan’s murderer, her own cousin and prince, but maybe she hadn’t agreed to any of this either. Though, rumour had it that Lord Fordonne was sniffing around her before the Laithcart Games I so abruptly ended, and if his reputation was to be believed, Francillin might not have entirely minded the events of that day.
Father studied me for a moment, and then took a step backwards. “We were discussing Vorska,” he said.
I froze, before nodding once. “What of her?”
His voice was low, despite the purposefully empty gardens around us. “Her suggested loyalty. For now, she stays. If we kill her, her welp is too young to survive. For now, with her dragon barely more than a sleeping pup, she is no threat. But if that pup grows up and starts biting the hand that feeds it…”
“You fear she will turn on us,” I said.
“Obviously,” he drawled. “She is a savage. Even with good quarters and regular feeding, what will she do when we invade her forest?”
Can he even hear himself?I thought to Chaethor.
Calm yourself, she replied.
“When the dragon is old enough to be of any danger to us, we can test her loyalty,” I said.
Banrillen looked up at that. “Test it?”
I shrugged. “Have her up at the northern border and see if she will kill one of her own for us.”
My brother pulled another petal, still staring at me. “Yes,” he agreed. “Make her kill her kin.”
I nodded, and distracted myself with the garden, examining whatever flower was before me. I knew how my father and brother’s minds worked. If they considered Tanidwen a threat, in truth, she was already dead. And I did not want that to happen.
You keep her alive, even now.Chaethor’s voice was curious.
It’s your fault, I jested, though it fell flat.Your obsession with beautiful things has rubbed off on me.
This one is under your skin more than most.
I wronged her.
Chaethor let out an admonishing groan.You kept her breathing.
