Calla

I stalked into the hall after Sadie while the others continued their questioning of Navin and made plans. The muscles in her jaw popped as she folded her lean, muscular arms over her chest, looking like a petulant child being scolded by a tutor. I lifted my chin. She could mope all she liked, but it was time for her and me to have a reckoning. If she wasn’t going to climb out of the pit she’d fallen in of her own volition, I’d drag her out by the tail with my teeth.

“This is ridiculous.”

She sounded more like a hissing cat than a Wolf. “This doesn’t seem like a fair punishment for a few weeks shirking my responsibilities. I’m sorry I had a couple of nights out, but this is just plain evil . . . Your Majesty,” she added hastily as she spotted the two guards at the end of the corridor.

The guards stood at attention, their heads facing straight ahead, but their eyes darted to the side, watching me. All it took was a nod of my head to the eavesdropping guards and they left.

I waited until we had our privacy before folding my arms in a mirrored posture to Sadie’s own and leaning against the far wall. “A ‘couple’ of nights?”

She had the presence of mind to at least look chagrined.

Softer, I asked, “You think I’m punishing you?”

“It sure feels like it,”

she groused as my eyebrows lifted in amusement. I still had a flair of her same stubbornness, but none that rivaled her own. Grae had tempered a lot of it in me, and right now, I knew I had to be that counterbalance for her as she scowled at me and asked, “If not punishment, then what?”

I studied her face—the half-moons under her eyes, her tattered clothes, the stink of ale in her mussed hair. “I’m saving you, Sadie.”

“Saving me?”

she echoed dubiously. “From what?”

“From this,”

I said, gesturing from the red velvet carpet below our feet all the way up to the frescoed ceilings. “The others might think you’ve been sulking because of Navin, but that’s not the only reason, is it?”

She looked away, unable to meet the force of my stare, and I knew the arrowhead of my words struck true. I empathized with just how unsettled she felt. Deep in my bones, I felt it as well. But my way forward was here, leading my people, muddling ahead even if I faltered. Sadie needed adventure, needed conflict—my eyes dropped—needed someone to threaten with her blades at the very least.

She needed to not be a house pet, which was clearly how she thought of her current assignment.

Sadie toyed with her knife like a cat’s tail flicking in anger. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Fast as a striking ostekke, I plucked the knife from her hand. “Don’t you, Stabby?”

I looked from the knife in my grip to Sadie’s balled fists, the nickname clearly grating on her last vestiges of decorum. Dispossessed of her weapon, she started pacing along the hall, needing to move, if not her hands, then her feet. She reached inside the leather lining of her vest and pulled out a smaller blade secretly sheathed down the center laces.

I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. “Of course.”

“Just thought I’d get you another blade to stab me in the back with,”

she said, flipping the knife over to offer me the hilt.

“You’re a soldier through and through, Sadie,”

I said with an exasperated shake of my head. “That is why this life is intolerable to you. You can’t keep moping around council chambers and running off to Briar’s cottage and drinking all of the taverns out of their best ale—” She opened her mouth to deny the claim, but I held up my hand. “My people talk and rumors of your quest to drink every tavern dry have now grown infamous. And even though it reflects poorly on me, I allowed it, because I thought you’d come through the other side of this, but you seem intent to keep up your rakishness forever.”

“It wasn’t that much ale.”

She twirled her tiny knife in one hand, windmilling it through her fingertips with practiced ease. “Humans just can’t hold their drinks next to Wolves—that’s all.”

“From how you smell, I’d say you can’t hold it too well, either—you’ve got ale spilled all over you.”

She looked at me, and I pointed to my nose. “Wolf.”

She slumped a bit.

“You’re bored,”

I said. “And it’s making you reckless. Yes, I’m sure Navin’s betrayal played some part in all of this, too, probably a bigger part than you’re letting on.” Her knife hand stumbled, a break in its rhythm, as I passed back her first knife. “You’re strong—maybe too strong. But you also are unwilling to admit that life in the Golden Court is grating on you.”

“I wouldn’t say grating,”

she hedged.

“Be honest with me,”

I implored, grabbing her wrist to still her flicking hand. “If you had to choose between sitting on my council or going on a diplomatic mission with someone you hate and doing some subtle investigation—”

Her dark eyes shot up to meet mine. “So you think he’s hiding something, too, huh?”

I ignored that. “Which would you pick?”

“Interrogation,”

she muttered. “Obviously.”

“Subtle investigation,”

I reminded. “I need you to handle this delicately. Whatever Navin is keeping from us, I’m sure he has legitimate reasons.” Sadie clicked her tongue and dramatically rolled her eyes. Despite her being years older than me, she seemed so young in that moment, so adrift. “But legitimate or no, we need to know why Nero has Ora and you’re the only person I trust to handle this. It can’t just be to irk me.” That made her puff up a little bit. “You know Navin better than anyone. Can you uncover his secrets? Or do you want to go back to the tavern and destroy everything you once were?”

Sadie looked at me sharply.

“Yes—I said it. You are not a palace guard, but nor are you a lush. Yet. I don’t think that’s who you want to be, either.”

I was trying to be softer, but I couldn’t hold back all the iron in my voice.

She pursed her lips. “Something strange is going on,”

she said, not really responding to what I’d just said, but that was okay—she was thinking rather than just reacting, and that was more than she’d done in weeks. “I don’t find it coincidence that on the precipice of war, someone important to you has been abducted, nor that their closest friend and traveling companion seems to be unwilling to say why.”

“I need Ora back and safe. They are family to me. And I need answers that I trust you will be able to acquire.”

Sadie’s eyes sparked. That mischievous twinkle made me even more certain that this is what she needed—a little freedom, more adventure, and to face the wounds she still harbored from Navin. Maybe when she returned from Valta she could settle into this new life more easily. Or at least give me time to figure out how best to use her. No matter what, she needed a bigger purpose, and whether she liked it or not, I was determined to give her one. “I need you to bring King Luo on to Olmdere’s side. Promise him unending gold and treasure and trade. Use whatever means you deem necessary. I want an Onyx Wolf pack at our back when we meet Damrienn on the battlefield.”

Her grin widened at the mention of a battlefield. “I don’t think I could say no to that even if I wanted to.”

“And you don’t want to,”

I said. “We’ll give Navin the night to rest here, but I expect Galen den’ Mora to be rolling out toward Rikesh at dawn, and I expect you to be on it.”

She sheathed her blades and inclined her head at me. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

I chuckled, pulling her out of her awkward curtsy and into a fierce hug—a hug that reminded her that we were more than Queen and subject, we were friends, we were family.

“Thank you, Sadie.”

As we hugged, I hastily added, “And you’re not allowed to stab Navin.”

“Fine.”

She groaned and pulled out of the hug, practically skipping down the hall with a gleeful wave. “But you said nothing about nose-breaking.”