The Deceiver's Heart (The Traitor's Game 2)
“Where?” Trina asked. “Now?”
“I know a secret way in to Lynsk. I must speak with my father, tonight.”
“Someone should go with you.” Trina gave me a sympathetic smile, knowing this meant we’d have to pair off, and there was only one logical way to divide. “How about I do?”
“Thank you.” Basil shifted an eye from Harlyn to me, and warned, “If we can’t stop the Dominion at our border, then we’ll meet you at the woods tomorrow.”
“Stay safe,” I said, and nodded when Trina wished us the same.
After we bid farewell to Trina and Basil, Harlyn sat back down on the log where she’d been before, so reluctantly, I did too. After the embrace Harlyn and I had shared in Nessel, I knew something lingered between us, something that was making my heart race now. If she felt it too, this would be an uncomfortable night.
After drawing in the dirt for a moment with a stick, Harlyn said, “May I ask you a question?”
I tilted my head, already suspicious, then decided I wouldn’t be able to avoid conversation with her for the entire evening. “Go ahead.”
“Do you know why my father took command of the Halderians?”
I shrugged, but I was genuinely curious. Almost since the end of the war, the Halderians had been led by a man I knew only as Thorne, who had spent most of those years trying to prove to his people, and to Kestra herself, that she was meant to become the Infidante. He had finally succeeded, but it had apparently cost him his life.
“The night the Infidante was chosen, we had tremendous hope for her. But by morning, Kestra Dallisor was gone. She gave us no explanation of her plans. She made no effort to get us on her side.”
“To be fair,” I said, “the Halderians have never been Kestra’s friends in the past.”
“Which was why she needed to stay and help us understand her! After she left, the Halderians broke out in fighting amongst ourselves, some of us wanting to give her a chance, others who claimed that she had taken the sword back as a gift to Endrick, her king.”
“That was never true, Harlyn.”
“I know. Haven’t I already proved to be on her side? But the truth didn’t matter, only what people believed. Finally, my father challenged Thorne for leadership over our people, not because he wanted the power, but because Thorne couldn’t control the fighting.”
“Your father was part of the fighting!”
“My father agreed to follow the voice of the people. The head of every house was invited to a meeting to give their opinion. The decision was overwhelming: Kestra Dallisor cannot be our Infidante. The Halderians want her replaced.”
I glared back at her. “Then the Halderians voted for her death.”
“Yes.” But she quickly added, “There is a reason I’m telling you this. It’s because I know who you are … Your Grace.”
My glare darkened. “How?”
She blushed, as if we were flirting rather than on the verge of a shouting match. “I admit that on the night the Infidante was chosen, you caught my eye. And after Gerald escaped from Woodcourt, he came back to Nessel. I knew you’d been there with him, so I asked about you. It took some persuasion, but he finally told me.”
“Uh-huh. And who else knows?”
She shrugged. “Nobody, as far as I can tell. I figured since you haven’t claimed the throne that maybe you have reasons not to, but I think you should reconsider, for her sake. You can’t force the people to accept Kestra Dallisor, but as king, you might be able to protect her from us.”
I stared at her, then reached for my bedroll. “Good night, Harlyn.”
She grabbed my arm first and scooted toward me until our knees were touching. “What aren’t you telling me?”
I’d told her almost nothing of my feelings for Kestra—whatever they were now—or of my plans for the future. I certainly wouldn’t admit that having her so close shrouded my mind in a constant fog.
After I failed to answer, she leaned forward, keeping her eyes on me the entire time, and pausing briefly when her face was directly in front of mine. Then she smiled, grabbed my bedroll, and thrust it into my hands. “I’ll keep first watch,” she said, fully aware that for a moment, I had stopped breathing.
I stood and lay on the bedroll, but even as I rolled away from her, I felt the weight of her eyes on me. Maybe she didn’t know what first watch meant.
However, that wasn’t why I felt unable to sleep. It was becoming increasingly clear that in the end, I might be forced into claiming the title of king. Not for the Halderians, and certainly not for myself, but because Kestra would need me there.
She would obtain her magic, thinking it would save me, but it would corrupt her. I would claim the throne, hoping to save her, and no doubt it would corrupt me too.