Page 87 of War Hour

Evander gives his father a hard stare before sitting. When I finally catch his eyes, I mouth a thank you.

He nods, turning back to the table.

“I hardly think it appropriate for Lord Torryn to be voting on such an occasion,” Lord Bralas adds.

“And unless you would like to render the treaty void, you cannot stop me from doing so,” Torryn growls out, snapping at Lord Bralas.

Drytas stands, circling the table with one finger pressed to his lips. “How about a compromise? If Lysta steps foot in Falland again, I may pass judgment as I see fit. Otherwise, she is banished from Valor. Would my fellow lords and lady agree to that?”

Chapter 33

My eyes mist over, forewarning the hot, heavy tears threatening to fall with my every blink. Storming from the room, I twist my lower lip between my teeth, pulling on a blank mask, hoping if I deny my emotions, the brimming tears won’t betray me now.

I will not give them my tears as their victory.

“Lysta, dear. You’ve forgotten something.”

Drytas’s voice stops me dead in my tracks.

Turning slowly, I face the cruel lord, who follows after me.

“You left somethingimportantin Falland before you left. I figured you might want it now, since you’ll never step foot there again... alive at least.”

If he expected his threat to shock me, he’s sorely mistaken. There’s nothing more he can do to me... nothing more he can take from me. He is right about one thing... because of him, I have my power, and now, he’ll never have control over me again.

Or so I think—until he reaches out, a chain hanging from between his fingers.

I furrow my brows, confused by the object he dangles in front of me. Then I catch sight of the pendant, and my mouth drops.My heart shatters, and Drytas practically dances on the pieces as he sees my heartbroken reaction.

Reaching out, I snatch the necklace from his fingers, searching the face to confirm it’s whose I think it is.Doireann.

“It may be a little worse for wear than you left it. Maybe if you hadn’t abandonedit,it would still be with you.”

He isn’t talking about the necklace.

The rest of the Crowns and Heirs file out of the meeting room, stopping when they see Drytas standing before me.

Drytas doesn’t pay them any mind, leaning toward me conspiratorially. With a smirk, he whispers, “I hung it on Falland’s wall in case you came back looking for it but looks like you’ve been too preoccupied.”

A moan of agony escapes my lips, and I stagger, almost falling to my knees. Doireann.

He’s killed Doireann.

Drytas catches me against him, and I start to fight him off until he hisses, “Stop. You’re going to turn around, walk away, and I better not hear even a whisper of your name near my plans again, or the old lady’s friend. Thoman, I believe it was. He’ll be next.”

Falling to the ground, I stare up at Lord Drytas with wide eyes. Footsteps approach from behind him, Torryn and Evander moving toward me, but I hold up a hand, waving them off.

The crowd of Crowns and Heirs watch as I stand on shaky legs, before turning and walking away. They don’t see the sobs that shake my shoulders, or the tears I blink back.

No one calls after me. No one rushes to follow me as I flee. I try to swallow the storm swirling inside.

Outside. I need to get outside.

I need to leave.

My breath shudders through my chest, feeling much as if someone is gripping my heart in their hands and squeezing. Outof their sight, I stumble into a wall. I clutch my throat, clenching my eyes shut as tears slide down my cheeks, like fire melting ice.

My mind races, and I can’t help but bring my fists to press against my temples, trying to stop the onslaught of questions circling in my head.

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