Page 154 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
The same boots and gloves which had no scuffs, creases, or any trace of a hard day’s labour.
On the left stood Edrin Malrow, who must have ransacked whatever riches the Dustmarks still had to gild himself in a dark velvet robe hemmed with gold sewn in the pattern of wheat, which looked to be fraying at the elbows. He kept his hook nose high and head tilted back–probably to hide the bald spot slowly eating at his scalp, despite the many silver rings and trinkets he’d weaved into his long hair and beard.
And in the middle, the most dangerous of them all.
Beren Greycrest.
The Ashrift leader.
My dear uncle.
Ever since I could remember, he’d looked like a jolly old man, cheeks still ruddy despite his age, white beard fluffed up to emphasize his easy smile. Unlike the other two, he wore a simple leather uniform with mountain peaks stitched on his lapels. Nothing gaudy, nothing to take away from that face who’d tricked thousands of men.
He hid the murderous maniac within him well.
“The wayward nephew has finally arrived.” Beren opened his arms wide as I stepped into the light, as if summoning me for a hug.
His smile didn’t reach his dark eyes. It never had and never would.
I planted my feet right next to the salt ring, just enough to officially start this sham of a parley. I wouldn’t draw nearer to them for anything in this world.
“Uncle,” I said simply, crossing my wrists behind my back.
“Such a cold greeting, Ry.” He lowered his arms and forced his brows to furrow. I had to give it to him, Beren had always mimicked disappointment well. “One of these days, you’ll truly break my heart with the way you avoid your own family.”
The only two real emotions that thrived in that heartless body of his were greed and violence.
“Must be all the ice in Solkar’s Reach finally getting to me,” I said. “I’m glad you all came today.”
“As if we had a choice.” Edrin snorted through that large nose of his. His voice had gotten more brittle over the years. Judging from the pallor in his sunken cheeks, he’d get five, maybe six full moons of life–and he’d probably spend all of them drinking himself away, as he’d done all his life. “Those two have no place here. Lost children have no right to the Sky Summit.”
He narrowed those beady eyes at Nadya and Geryll.
“They are not lost children anymore and you will not address them as such.” My steady voice echoed around us. “Mistresses also shouldn’t be present, yet I see Sorana right there.”
The redhead, who had been leaning lazily against the sacred walls as if they were mere rocks, snapped to attention. All of the leaders’ underlings waited in the shadowy edges, same as Nadya and Geryll, but I felt the loathing radiating off them.
“Sorana will be my wife soon,” Edrin said with more pride than a cheater should ever have. “She will be family.”
I arched my brows. “Don’t you already have a wife?”
Deya, Doya, whatever that poor woman’s name was.
“Not for long.” Edrin gave an oily smirk that displayed all his yellowed, rotten teeth, and looked at me like it was some great big gag and victory that he was about to murder his wife, and that I should partake in the joke.
My only reaction was a sneer–and a hand twitch behind my back, signaling to Nadya and Geryll that should I not come out of here alive, they needed to inform the warriors to go and save the woman.
Tonight. Before she became another ghost.
Nadya’s cough signaled they’d received the warning.
Beren felt the disgust and shift in me and tried to soften it with a smirk. “Come now, best not to talk about personal affairs. We’re here to discuss business, yes?”
“I don’t see what we need to discuss further on the matter,” Lioran said. He’d always had an affected, nasally tone that he, for some godsdamned reason, wanted to emphasize each moment he got. The man loved the sound of his own voice. And his face. And anything about him; probably even the crooked fingers he hid underneath those gloves. “We decided on the deal three years ago. Beforeyournephew here decided to turn his back on eons of tradition, collaboration, and community to pledge his allegiance to that blasted Blood Brotherhood. I guess having Brothers, Sisters, and an overlord who calls himself The Dragon is much preferable to duty and–”
“Lioran, we’ve been over this too many times to count.” I cut in, otherwise we would have passed the hour with his monologue alone. “Whatever ancestors we might have had in common died long ago, the same way your misplaced affront should have.”
Lioran blistered, pursing his lips. He could sulk all he wanted, as long as he did itquietly.
