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Ida standing alone in the dark forest. Oh Master, what have you done?

CHAPTER SEVEN

Alesta, Capital City of Alexander; 255 Cercian 1st

Waiting was something King Leon excelled in, a task of which he was a master; after all, he’d waited many long years to seek revenge upon the Amaskans for the “death” of his daughter. But waiting for Iliana’s return was like waiting for the winter snows when the heat of summer was just creeping over spring flowers.

Over the years, the sitting room had remained constant, its blue and gold decor reminding Leon of his late wife.

Leave it to Catherine to want to redecorate as armed men marched toward our kingdom. His eyes rested on the empty blue chair beside him. It wasn’t her chair anymore, not for over a decade, but every time someone sat in it, the memories of her washed over him like good ale: it both burned and soothed going down.

The moment his sepier had reported that Iliana was alive, his search was both more and less frantic. On one hand, he wanted her home. Immediately. Whatever the cost. But on the other hand, having her home didn’t bring him the head of one Master Bredych.

His heart twitched when he thought of Ida, and his mind immediately jumped to Goefrin. Imagine my surprise to learn that dear old Goefrin has been playing me all along. While waiting for Iliana is torture, waiting to deal with that worm is even harder.

As if his thought had summoned the old man, Goefrin entered the sitting room by way of a low bow. “Your Majesty called for me?”

“I did. Join me for a moment if you will.”

Goefrin’s eyes fluttered with a speed his old body lacked, nervousness that had not left since hearing of Iliana’s inevitable trip home. “Might I inquire—might I ask what I may do for Your Majesty?”

Leon’s grin was genuine and bordered on a smirk as the advisor squirmed. “Surely you know. As my most trusted advisor, your job is to anticipate my needs, is it not?” Come on, you worm, confess so that I might stretch your neck over a chopping block and be done with your rotten self.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” When Leon didn’t elaborate, Goefrin added, “I’m sorry for not knowing what I should, Sire.”

Two emeralds squinted back at Leon from a pasty, wrinkled face, and a trickle of sweat rolled down the leathery folds of Goefrin’s neck. I should just choke the man and be done with it. Instead, Leon waited.

Still, it would be interesting to find out how the weasel had gained his father’s trust enough to sit upon his council. Leon gestured for the man to sit in the chair to his left and winced as the man’s joints popped from the effort required to lower his frame into the chair.

King Leon clenched his jaw. Catherine’s chair, you worm. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had chosen that chair on purpose.

“My daughter should be home soon,” King Leon said, a forced smile on his ample lips. “Of course, she’s not the daughter I remember. For one, she’s not five anymore.”

“No, Sire.” Goefrin’s laugh sounded forced.

“She’s one of them now, an Amaskan. Did you know she’s the best, Goefrin? They say she’s the best they’ve ever trained.”

“That’s wonderful, Your Majesty.”

“Wonderful? You think so?” Goefrin’s jowls jiggled when he nodded too fast. “You think it wonderful that my little girl is returning home after all these years a murderer? A killer?”

“No, Your Majesty, I mean—”

King Leon slammed his fist onto the arm of his chair. He dug his fingers into the mahogany wood until his knuckles turned a pinkish-white. It wasn’t the King who wanted to lunge across the small space separating the two, it was the father. And the father lacked the King’s patience.

“Cease the pretenses. You know damned well why you’re here. You’re the reason my daughter returns to me a killer.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Enough.” The word escaped in a roar of fury and for a moment, King Leon saw stars before him. The last thing he needed was the healers interrupting again. He took a deep breath to calm himself, which only half worked. “It was your idea to send Iliana to the Amaskans.”

The words should have inspired terror in the old man, but instead Goefrin laughed, a tight, thin little laugh that erupted shrilly. “Surely you don’t blame me for a plan gone wrong, Sire. How could I possibly know the Shadian army would intercept and kill your daughter? They were everywhere. ’Tis folly to think I could do more than I did.”

When King Leon remained silent, Goefrin’s smile faltered, and his eyes narrowed as they lost their sparkle. “Your Majesty?”

“I know who you are.”

Five simple words. Goefrin stood, all pretense of a feeble body gone as he hurtled toward the door and threw it open in a wild panic. Armed guards stood between him and escape.

“Come, Goefrin. Have a seat, please. Let’s discuss treachery and Shad.”

When Goefrin didn’t move, King Leon nodded and a guard placed his hands on Goefrin’s shoulders and pushed him back through the doorway. “Sit. I insist.”

Goefrin’s entrance into the plush blue chair was much less controlled this time as he fell into its cushions, his eyes set intently on his king. “It seems you’ve been quite busy, Your Majesty.”

“Indeed I have.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you discover Iliana was alive?” His gaze flicked to the fireplace mantel, which still bore a painting of the child. “Was it perhaps your obsession with the Order? Your never-ending watch of their members?”

“It was,” he answered honestly. “My turn. Why Shad?”

“They have deeper pockets.”

“So this was about money?”

Goefrin shrugged. “I suppose.”

“And now you confess so easily?” Geofrin merely grinned. King Leon knelt before the man, his eyes searching the man’s face. “You were my father’s most trusted advisor and friend. You were mine. What madness could lead you into dealings with those devils? Surely if money was all you sought, you could

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