Page 2 of The Rook
The isolated villages… It was as if he knew what she was thinking.
She did not manage to suppress the shudder that ran through her at the thought. She glanced around. Thankfully, nobody was paying enough attention to her.
“There have been captures of the drug responsible for the deaths in several of the affected villages,” Madrid said. The lead Hound was an observant man and only spoke when he had something of value to say. “Its roots definitely derived from the South Isles.”
“Has Aleks had any further luck determiningwhatexactly the drug comes from?” the king asked.
“Very little. The drug has been expertly purified. We have only been able to link it to the South Isles because of a few spies in the forest watching the trade routes,” Madrid answered.
“It is only a matter of time before full-on war breaks out across the nation,” the king replied, convincingly upset.
What rubbish.
“Obviously, we do not wish this to happen,” he went on. “To go to war against the South Isles would ruin our relationship with them forever.”
It was uncanny how easily King Destin could lie. He was the one who was orchestrating the entire disgusting plan, thoughhearing Madrid talk ofspies in the forestmade her stomach lurch uncomfortably. Did he know what his king was doing? He must. He was the lead Hound. As much as she didn’t want to believe any of the Hounds had anything to do with the king’s treachery, she couldn’t let her affection for them cloud her judgement. It was almost her downfall before.
Framing the Talagans for poisoning villages in the forest was just the beginning of King Destin’s plan.Never mind the fact that most people killed by the drug were shifters. Looking back on it now, she could not believe she had been so naïve as to believe the Talagans were responsible for destroying their own people. It had taken Pyre—the Jester—showing her what the villages along the border really, truly looked like for Tempest’s eyes to open to the truth.
No, it took so much more than that.
Shame welled in her belly that she had not believed what she’d seenwhenshe had seen it. It had been obvious the villagers were not fighters. She thought of Rina and little Aspen running their bakery without a care in the world. Except theydidhave a care in the world; all around them, their people were dying, the men going out to defend them and never returning. When all this was over—if there were any Talagans left at all—the number of women compared to men of marriageable age would be terribly out of proportion. It would be difficult to repopulate the Talagan people.
Perhaps their low female population had doomed the shifter race in the long term without any need for a war at all. A dark thought indeed. She glanced at the king from the corner of her eye. The fact that he planned to bring the South Isles into the mix was worrisome. She’d swallow her hat if he didn’t havesome scheme to invade the South Isles, too. Temp rolled her neck. That was the last thing the kingdom needed.
“You would think the shifters would know that attacking in this way will only lead to their demise,” the king’s youngest son drawled from his father’s left-hand side. “I guess they are too stupid and lazy to come up with a smarter plan of attack.”
“Lazy and stupid,” the crown prince replied, then sloppily drank from a goblet of wine. “They are beasts. Monsters.Of coursethey are lazy and stupid!”
Tempest barely kept from rolling her eyes. The king’s stupid sons were spouting unintelligent rubbish again. How surprising.
“That’s right,” the younger son replied. The two princes continued along their increasingly insulting topic of conversation, which had absolutely nothing to do with the politics spoken about by the adults around them and everything to do with flaunting the ignorant views that their pampered upbringing and privileged lifestyle afforded them. Tempest wanted nothing more than to bite out a retort, but she didn’t.
Silence sometimes was an ally.
Tempest held her tongue even though it pained her. She struggled to believe that the younger prince was just one year her junior; she felt decades older than him. Tired, too. Had she always felt this way? Or just since she’d met the Jester? Even though she loathed the kitsune, at least she wasn’t as naïve as before.
She blankly gazed at the two princes. Thank the stars she was never as stupid as those two. The crown prince certainly lacked the handsome, striking features of his father, and was dull to a fault. He was rarely seen without a glass of wine in his hand and was prone to weasel himself out of any and allresponsibilities that might otherwise have been put on his shoulders.
Tempest watched as King Destin’s nose wrinkled when the crown prince gurgled down the remains of his goblet and let out a resounding burp. The king made no attempt at hiding his disgust of his eldest son.
Her attention moved to the younger prince. She liked him even less, but for different reasons than his elder brother. He seemed altogether more calculating, cunning, and sadistic. She recalled him tormenting animals as they grew up. And not even two days prior, Temp had caught him harassing a pretty servant girl in the corridor, threatening to have her dismissed if she did not come up to his room after the banquet. She hid her smile at the memory of how she herself then threatened the prince in a shadowy alcove after the servant girl had fled.
The younger prince caught her eye and lifted his goblet to her. Tempest didn’t return his salute. She knew what it really meant. She’d caught him unawares and was now within his sights. Temp wasn’t afraid of him, but she knew better than to underestimate him. Both of King Destin’s sons were unsuitable for the throne, that was to be sure.
The king’s boisterous voice pulled her attention back to him. She eyed his wide shoulders and his handsome form dispassionately. He was a man in his prime. Since he’d taken no liking to either of his sons, she wouldn’t be surprised if he attempted to sire another male heir.
He glanced over his shoulder at Tempest, a charming smile lighting his face. It did not mask the greedy, predatory glint in his eye as he cast his gaze down her figure. Tempest immediately looked down at her plate of untouched food, wishing for nothing more than to flee from the banquet table.
Stupid.Stupid. Her attention on him would surely have him seeking her after the meal. So much for avoiding him.
After what felt like an appropriate amount of time staring at her hands, Tempest dared to look back up and was relieved to see King Destin engaged in conversation elsewhere. But the crown prince was now looking at her, and, when he caught her eye, he winked. Winked. Winter’s bite. Could she not escape vile men? Tempest ignored him and shoveled food into her mouth in the hope that she could end the dastardly meal. That was if she could keep it down. The food was lavish and luxurious—full of butter, cream, and herbs—but it tasted like ash in her mouth. All Tempest wanted was a loaf of bread shaped like a tulip from Rina’s bakery and a bowl of heartwarming rabbit stew.A stew Pyre had made for her.
Stop thinking of him.
She scowled and swallowed an altogether too-large mouthful of food.The Jester. A despicable knave.And yet, she preferred his company to the fiends surrounding her now. Tempest did not want to think of Pyre, with his quickly swinging moods, wickedly seductive smile, and confusing intentions. If she dwelt on him for too long, her heart did strange things to her. Things that were not acceptable at all.
She dropped the pretense of eating and scanned the table. Her lips thinned when she spotted the younger prince looking at her. He licked his lips in a very deliberate fashion that made her want to stab him. A dagger found its way into her hand, and Temp leaned her elbow onto the table, deftly twirling the weapon through her fingers, causing the blade to dance and spin at an alarming speed. He didn’t flinch. The prince watched her every move. She stopped spinning the dagger and used it topick at non-existent food between her teeth like a barbarian. Let him think she had no manners.