Page 22 of Tarnished Crown

Was I really eating breakfast with the man responsible for the slaughter of so many of my people? Of my grandparents?

Did it matter if he didn’t even remember the heinous things he was responsible for?

The question plagued me as I forced down the rest of my food, making small talk with a man who had no idea who I was, and would likely kill me if he found out.

I just hoped I wouldn’t hate myself as much as I hated him by the time I left.

CHAPTER18

In spite of my better sense and the way it made my skin crawl, I spent the next two mornings meeting the duke for breakfast. Both times were similar to the first; a haze of confusion and small bits of information that I hoped would lead to something useful.

On the second morning, I learned that Evander’s mother’s name was Yrsa and that she had died from an illness only a year after he was born.

When Aleksander spoke of her, it was impossible not to see his grief. Whatever sort of cruelty he showed in other areas of his life, he at least had loved his first wife. I cut our visit short that day when he went into a rage and grieved her death all over again, worried the noise would bring someone into the room.

It was equal parts terrifying and painful to behold. As I climbed out onto the roof, it struck me all over again how I had never wanted that sort of love.

The kind that would break you...

The kind that clearly broke him. Was that what had made him so awful in the war?

I peeked out from behind the battlement to survey the courtyard below for anyone who might be watching. A gust of icy wind whistled past, carrying a few dead leaves and the last remnants of autumn along with it. The air smelled like snow, and the small tingling along my spine promised we would see that very soon.

My eyes caught on one of the figures, and I let out a low curse, straining harder to get a better look at him.

Sure enough, it was Evander.

He was speaking with one of his men, gesturing toward different sections of the estate before turning to head inside.

My knuckles went white around the stone ledge.

Whenhadhe returned?

Was he avoiding me? And if so, why did he bring me here to begin with?

Then my mind raced to the room I had left. The one where his mad father sat locked away, reliving his past, and I wondered what was truly going on. I thought about the way Evander filled in for his father at the Summit, how he spoke of him and never once mentioned that he wasn’t well. I thought about the reputation that the clan had, their cruelty and violence.

Had Evander merely carried out the orders of his father? Or was he the one pulling the strings, hiding behind his father’s name and reputation to do whatever he wanted?

My head spun with a thousand more questions that I wasn’t sure I would ever get the answers to. Finally, I waltzed back into my room, shutting the door to the balcony and all the bitter thoughts from the morning out with it.

I wasn’t sure why I decided to go back the next day. Was it morbid curiosity? Boredom? Belief that he would eventually tell me something useful?

I supposed the answer didn’t really matter when the questions only came as I was climbing onto his balcony. I wished they had come sooner.

As soon as the duke saw me, he ushered me over to the small table where his breakfast was waiting. He, however, refused to sit down. Anger radiated off of him in waves as he stormed around the room.

“I’ve convinced the king to let us march tomorrow,” he seethed.

I had become accustomed to going down different roads of his past with him, but this wasn’t one I was familiar with. It also wasn’t one that I wanted to travel down. Especially not when the king he was referring to had been dead for nearly two decades...killed not long after the war with Lochlann.

“Why so soon?” I finally asked, though I was terrified of the answer. There couldn’t have been many marching orders after they came back from that.

Aleksander glared at me as if I should have known the answer, before ticking off the reasons on his fingers one by one. He slipped in and out of Socairan as he spoke, but I understood plenty. The things he said about my aunt Isla, about my grandparents, my mother...

My stomach twisted, and I wanted to be sick.

I did my best to keep my features neutral as he made all manner of threats against my people, knowing that some of them he had actually carried out.