Page 15 of Silver & Smoke
‘I do...’ Wren replied slowly, feeling the hairs on the nape of her neck rising. She glanced back towards the manor, spotting a familiar pair of eyes staring out at her.
Lucian.
The bastard had barely taken his eyes off her since the engagement had been announced. Wren could feel him monitoring her everywhere she went, studying not only her words, but her movements, her body language, ready to catch her out at any time.
So Wren tugged her companion a little closer, dipping herhead as though confiding in a newly discovered best friend. ‘But once Delmira is secured, I would love to talk more about the wedding with you. I don’t have many women acquaintances of your... social standing to guide me. I’d appreciate your insights, Agnes.’
Lady Briar beamed. ‘It would be my pleasure, Elwren. You’ll find me incredibly well connected with the best of the midrealms’ cooks, florists, entertainers... It will be a lavish affair when we’re done with it, to be sure.’
Back at the manor, Lucian’s shadow moved across the window.
‘That sounds wonderful,’ Wren said, forcing a smile and steering them back towards the house.
‘Doesn’t it? Nothing would make me happier than seeing Darian marry a princess of the midrealms. If anyone was born to be a prince consort, it’s him. He’s got the pedigree and looks to match.’
Wren had to stop herself from shuddering. ‘I couldn’t agree more. Shall we freshen up before they serve morning tea on the terrace?’
‘Of course.’
Wren left Lady Briar in the foyer, but rather than heading for her guest chambers upstairs, she waited for Kipp outside Lord Briar’s study.
‘Lord Briar has pledged five hundred men to your cause,’ the strategist said by way of greeting as he ducked out of the room.
‘And the catch?’ Wren asked.
‘They want land in Delmira when you’ve reclaimed the kingdom.’
‘Of course they do,’ Wren muttered, tugging her friend towards the stairs. She had to check on the potions she’d left bubbling on the windowsill. ‘As if they don’t have enough wealth already. I’m assuming we agreed?’
‘We did,’ Kipp replied with a grimace, following her. ‘He’s also insisting that Lady Briar be one of your bridesmaids. They want it clear to the public from the start that they’re close with the Delmirian royals.’
‘What did Thea have to say about that?’ Wren mused, glancing behind them, wondering where her sister was.
‘She made a convincing fuss about being your matron of honour, which was for the best. Had she said nothing, it would have been suspicious. She’s in there now, still arguing with Lucian about where to obtain the best weaponry for the new forces.’
Ascending the grand staircase, Wren kept her voice low. ‘He was watching me from the windows...’
‘I know,’ Kipp replied. ‘This agreement is precarious to say the least. You can’t give him any reason to doubt the engagement. Torj—’
‘Believe me, Kipp, I know what’s at stake,’ she cut him off as they reached her chambers. ‘Do you think I’d remain silent and play the part of the demure wife-to-be for any other reason?’
‘If this is you being demure...’ he said wryly.
Wren rolled her eyes as she stepped inside and went straight to the alchemy she’d left brewing in her absence. With the window ajar, the steam drifted out into the estate grounds, but the faint scent of roses still lingered in her room.
It was easy to lose herself in the familiar tasks – crushing herbs between her fingers, testing their potency – but she yearned to shed the pretences, to be able to focus on the real task at hand. Thoughts of Torj surged through her. Wren didn’t remember unsheathing the dagger he had given her, but there it was in her hands, her fingertip running down the flat of the blade across the inscription,Iron & Embers. His vow to her. Their soul bond engraved in steel.
Kipp rested a comforting hand on her arm, but his words were anything but. ‘He’d rather die strong than live weak. We know that much about the Bear Slayer.’
She pictured her Warsword out there, with poison coursing through his veins. The thought stole the breath from her lungs. He was hers to save. Hers to protect. And she would do exactly that if it was the last thing she ever did. She couldn’t falter now.
In the distance, she could sense a storm brewing. She tasted rain on the tip of her tongue, felt the swell of promise in the air around her.
Wren steeled herself against Kipp’s words. ‘Well, that’s not his choice.’
CHAPTER 8
Torj
