Page 56 of War Hour

Sar nods but brushes off my concern.

Biting my lip, I try to decide whether the subject is open for discussion. I have few friends in the capital, but I would hope Sar is one. I don’t want to ruin anything by digging through things she’d rather keep private, but at the same time, the people here are dangerous in ways I might not even realize.

I need to know if I’m making enemies without realizing it and, if so, who.

“Does it happen often?” I pry, ready for Sar to shut down the question.

Sar stifles a laugh before reaching forward to lay the towel on the glass table in front of us. “If you’d consider since we were kids often.” Sar crosses her legs before looking at me with a blank expression.

A sad thought crosses my mind. Perhaps there is more anguish and pain under the capital’s pretty dresses and luxurious lifestyle than I believed.

“I thought you were of Torryn’s court?”

“I amnow. Thankfully. But I was born to the Court of Wisdom. Just because you are born to a court doesn’t mean you owe anything to it,” Sar says with a knowing look.

I blink slowly at her, feeling much as if my brain is wading through thick mud. When I say nothing, she continues.

“Neithander and Conlen are my younger brothers. Conlen is innocent. He’s just being molded by a bad influence.”

“Lord Bralas or Neith?” I ask, having seen enough from both of them to know they each would fit.

Sar sends me a look as if the answer should be obvious. “Both.”

A thought strikes me, and I hesitate to speak it to her. Tentatively, I broach the sensitive topic.

“But if they are your younger brothers, that would make you the Heir. Why is Neith?”

Sar grimaces. “You are right, but you are also wrong. I’m sure you could tell from the one female Crown out of the seven courts, but women aren’t viewed as fit for power by many in the capital. Too emotional.” Sar rolls her eyes. “It is within a Crown’srightto skip over female Heirs.”

Sounds about right.

Clenching my teeth, I nod. “So, because Lord Bralas designated him Heir, he can just act like that? Treat your brother like a punching bag? Treat you like that?”

Sar tucks in her lips, nodding. “I think Neith is trying to toughen Conlen up. He’s always been a fairly soft boy, having been spared most of our father’s wrath as the youngest. Neith is just going about it the wrong way.” Sar curls her legs up under her on the couch, curving into herself.

“I wasn’t trained with my brothers growing up. Wasn’t allowed to learn combat or weapons training. And the only reason I could Trial is because it would be too embarrassing for Bralas if one of his kids hadn’t. So, I taught myself everything I could, basically lived in the court library—not that it mattered. I was just a pretty daughter to control and show off.” Sar turns her face from me, but she isn’t fast enough to hide her glassy eyes. She mutters, “Ardis barely got me out.”

My eyes widen, mouth dropping slightly.

It’s obvious Sar didn’t mean to give me this insight into her and Ardis’s history.

She brings her hand to her temple as her eyebrows cinch together.

New questions itch at the back of my brain, begging to be asked at my new revelation. But I can’t bring myself to ask, instead settling on something less personal.

“Why didn’t any of the Heirs step in? They saw how tense it was getting.”

“Tensions between courts are fickle. They can’t do anything without fearing retribution from Lord Bralas.”

Footsteps pound up the staircase, halting Sar’s explanation. Torryn is the first to step around the corner, followed by Ardis, who silently rests against the wall.

“Bash let me know what happened. Are you all right?” Torryn asks as he comes to stand behind her, squeezing her shoulder in comfort or apology—I’m not sure.

Sar pats his hand with a slight smile. “More than all right. Lysta and I were just getting to know one another better.”

Torryn hums at her response before moving to sit on the couch across from me, his eyes lingering on the damp pink towel. When he looks at me, I remember the last time we saw each other. It had not ended well. His face is guarded but not outright resentful.

“Ardis, are you planning on wallowing all day, or do you plan on joining us?” Sar asks without craning her head to look at him.

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