Chapter 23

Something jerked me from a deep sleep. I sat up with a gasp, the remnants of a pleasant dream disintegrating around me. The room was dark except for the crackling cold fire in the hearth. But the hearth was on the wrong wall…

Because I was in Ronan's room. Because I'd fucked Ronan and Sigurn. Together.

Ronan slept on his stomach beside me, his face turned away and his long hair streaming over his pillow. I turned my head and found the bed on my other side empty. A Sigurn-sized indent depressed the mattress.

But Sigurn was gone.

Pain struck without warning—lancing through my skull like a poker left in the fire.

"Shit!" I doubled over, my head in my hands. Saliva flooded my mouth as nausea roiled my gut. Dizziness swept me, making the bed seem to tilt and rock like a boat in the water.

"Liria!" Ronan's voice pierced the fog of pain, and then his hands grasped my arms. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Spots swam in my vision, and a crushing weight settled on my chest. Suddenly, every breath was an effort. A sob burst from me as I clutched at Ronan. I was either going to vomit or pass out. Maybe both.

Ronan's tone grew more frantic. "Liria, love, what is it?"

The weight on my chest eased. The pain subsided enough for me to lift my head, and I met Ronan's anxious-looking gaze. "I don't know. My head…"

He brushed my hair back and cupped my jaw, his blue eyes searching my face. "A headache?"

"Yes," I rasped. "It was so sharp and sudden. I've never felt anything like it." The pain continued to drift away, and I drew a deep breath. "I was so dizzy, and I felt like I couldn't breathe—" I snapped my mouth shut.

"What is it?"

My heart began to pound. "The headache is new, but I've felt the dizziness and breathlessness before. It happened when I was in the Crypt with?—"

Men's shouts sounded outside the chamber. A second later, the door flew open, and two knights from the Winter Guard rushed into the room.

I yelped and yanked the sheet to my chin.

Ronan was off the bed in a blur of movement. He strode forward, seemingly unbothered by his nudity as anger crackled around him. I couldn't see his face, but the knights' expressions told me Ronan was ready to do murder.

"You better have a good explanation for coming through that door without knocking."

I suppressed another yelp as the air in the room turned icy. Ronan wasn't angry with me, but his hushed tone sent shivers down my spine nevertheless.

The knight closest to him—a tall man with a captain's badge on his breastplate—swallowed thickly as he appeared to catch his breath. The captain's long braid draped over his shoulder, the end brushing his sword belt. "Apologies, Your Majesty. The door was unlocked. I didn't even think?—"

"Why are you here? What's wrong?"

The second knight stepped forward, and he kept his gaze carefully averted from the bed. "Someone took the scepter, Your Majesty."

Pain pierced my skull. I couldn't stifle my cry as I sagged forward. Ronan was at my side in less than a second.

"Get a healer!" he barked above my head.

"No," I croaked, pushing at him. Already, the pain faded, and I struggled to sit upright. "I'm fine. The scepter is more important."

"Have you lost your mind?" Ronan pushed my hair off my forehead, and now he did look angry with me. "Nothing is more important than your well-being." He tipped my head back with gentle hands and studied me with fear in his eyes. "You said you felt this way before?"

"Yes. In the Crypt with Sigurn."

Ronan went very still. "Was Sigurn in the Crypt when you arrived?"

Disquiet rang faint bells of alarm in my head. "Yes…why?"

An icy blast of air rolled off Ronan, lifting goosebumps on my arms. He turned his head toward the knights with a forbidding expression on his face.

"Where is Sigurn Brighthelm?"

The men exchanged glances, and the captain looked uncomfortable as he cleared his throat. "We, ah, thought the human was in here, Majesty. With you."

My face heated. The entire castle probably knew what had transpired behind Ronan's door.

"When did you notice the scepter was missing?" Ronan asked the captain.

"Less than ten minutes ago, sir. One of my men went to check on King Haluven and Queen Maeve. I came to you as soon as my man alerted me, Your Majesty."

"You did well," Ronan said. "Brighthelm took the scepter." As I stiffened, Ronan fired off orders. "Summon your two fastest runners right now. Send them across the Covenant. We don't know how long Brighthelm has been missing. There's a chance the runners will catch up to him before he reaches Nordlinga."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Gather the rest of the men and meet me in the courtyard. We ride for the Covenant within the hour."

"Yes, sir." The knights left as swiftly as they'd arrived, the captain's bellowed commands echoing from the corridor. As the rumble of boots and men's shouts followed, Ronan turned back to me.

"Why would Sigurn take the scepter?" I blurted. "Will it even work in Andulum?"

Ronan's eyes were hard. "I don't know. If I had to guess, however, I'd say yes. The scepter is older than the Covenant. Even if they'd wanted to, I'm not sure our ancestors could have blunted its magic." His jaw tightened. "As for Sigurn's reasons, I suppose he wants power. Possibly, revenge. He was angry with me for keeping him here. I know the situation in Nordlinga has deteriorated, but I didn't think he'd be this foolish." Ronan hesitated, an indecipherable emotion moving through his eyes.

"What is it?" I asked.

Ronan flicked a look over the rumpled sheets, and he waited another beat before answering. "I didn't think he was capable of being this calculated."

Comprehension filled me—and with it came a rush of hurt and disappointment. Ronan had released Sigurn from whatever magical binding he'd placed on him, telling him he was free to leave the castle. Sigurn had responded by drifting across Ronan's chamber and looking at me like a starving man presented with a feast.

I'm fine to stay for now.

But he hadn't been fine. He'd been planning to steal the scepter.

"Will the scepter kill him?" I asked Ronan now.

"I don't know." Ronan tilted my head up, the anxiety in his eyes returning. "I'm more worried about you. These dizzy spells… Have you ever experienced anything like this before? Or did it start when you talked to Sigurn in the Crypt?"

"The Crypt was the first time," I said. "Sigurn surprised me when he stepped from the shadows. He must have been trying to take the scepter, but I got in his way."

"I need you to tell me everything he said in the Crypt. Leave nothing out."

I complied, and Ronan listened in tense silence as I spoke of Sigurn saying he cared for me and swearing he intended to meet me at his castle before Ronan had appeared. When I finished, Ronan's gaze sharpened.

"Did you say anything about the scepter?"

"Nothing."

"You didn't touch it?" Ronan cupped my face in his hands. "This is important, Liria."

"I know." Did he seriously think he needed to tell me that? I pulled from his grip. "I told you everything. I've never touched the scepter. I've never even reached for—" I sucked in a breath.

"What?" Ronan crouched in front of me, his forearms on the mattress and his eyes level with mine.

My heart sped up. "The night my mother died, my father spoke to me."

Surprise and displeasure mixed in Ronan's gaze. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"You were busy plotting with Lord Estalar to take the scepter," I snapped. When he opened his mouth, I waved him off. "I know why you did it, and I think I understand why you kept my father's secret to yourself. But you weren't the only person he spoke to. When I was alone with him, he opened his eyes and looked at me. He said just three words: Sigurn, bond, and scepter."

Ronan paled. "Haluven said Sigurn's name?"

"Yes. Did my father know about Sigurn?"

"No," Ronan rasped, clearly shaken. "At least not in the context of Sigurn having any connection to me."

A shiver raced down my spine. "When my father spoke, I thought maybe he meant for me to take the scepter. So I went to the Crypt." My heart beat faster as my mind filled with memories of standing before the scepter. "I was nervous to touch it, but I felt like…"

"Yes?" Ronan prompted.

"I felt like it pulled me." I closed my eyes, visions of the Crypt on the inside of my lids. "The orb was so bright. It turned everything blue. I kept walking toward it, and I reached a hand up…" I opened my eyes as my throat went dry. "I asked it to make me worthy."

For a second, Ronan seemed too stunned to move. Then he seized my arms, his features stark. "Why would you do such a reckless thing?" He gave me a little shake. "Did you speak in the Old Language?"

"N-No!"

"What, exactly, did you say?"

"I just told you!" In my head, I stumbled through my memory, grabbing for the precise phrasing. "I said ‘please let me be worthy of you.'"

His expression turned bleak as he dragged me closer, putting me perilously close to tipping off the bed and into his arms. "Did you learn nothing under my tutelage? The Crypt is steeped in the scepter's power. The bones of the Lords of Winter have rested within those walls for centuries. The stone itself is soaked in magic. Every word you speak in that place carries a wealth of meaning. You didn't reach for the scepter. You challenged it." His fingers tightened on my arms. "And it accepted."

I squirmed in his grip. "Ronan, you're hurting me."

He released me, then sat back and passed a shaking hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry. But you were unbelievably reckless to issue a challenge."

"You said that already." Irritation—and more than a little embarrassment—seared a hot path through my chest. Suddenly, we were in familiar territory, with me slipping up and him disapproving. "I didn't think it through."

"Clearly." He rose, tall and formidable in his anger. But he was also still gloriously nude. Even with tension thick between us, I couldn't stop my eyes from roving down his body. His scolding was a reminder of what we'd been to each other for ten years. That relationship was intact. He was still my guardian. But now I was naked in his bed, my body aching from the things he'd done to it. And once again, the wrongness of it merely fueled my desire.

But desire would have to wait. Sounds of steel and horses drifted from the window that faced the courtyard.

"We'll have to leave our horses at the Covenant," I said, snagging a sheet as I left the bed.

Ronan's frown was fierce and instant. "We?"

I paused in the middle of wrapping the sheet around my body. "I'm coming with you."

"Absolutely not." He pointed to the bed. "You're staying put. I'll call Cyra to attend you."

"You'll do no such thing." As arguments gathered in his eyes, I tucked the corner of the sheet into the fabric stretched over my breasts. "You said the scepter accepted my challenge. If that's true, then I'm supposed to prove myself by protecting it."

"How do you figure that?"

"The pain and dizzy spells have only happened twice—once when the scepter was in danger of being taken, and again when we learned Sigurn took it. If I stay behind while you cross into Nordlinga, I won't be proving myself." I drew a deep breath against the hurt that tried to wrap around my heart. "I'll be proving I'm as unworthy as my father always believed. So I'm coming with you, and I'm going to take the scepter back."

The anger drained from Ronan's face. He lay a hand against my cheek, and I braced myself for soft words about how I was, indeed, worthy and had nothing to prove.

Instead, he gave a slight nod. "All right."

I blinked at him. "All right?"

"Yes." He feathered his thumb over my cheekbone. "Don't misunderstand me. I still hate it, and I'm going to be distracted with worry about your safety, but you make a sound argument. I told you I wanted you to rule at my side, never at my back. I meant it. And if this is your chance to win the scepter for yourself, I'll do whatever I can to help."

A combination of disbelief and wonder spread through me. He told the truth. I didn't need vows in the Old Language to realize he loved me as much as he claimed. If I took back the scepter and received Winter's blessing, he would accept it—and he would never stop loving me.

"Ronan…" I began, but tears clogged my throat. Our people don't weep. Maybe that edict was foolish. A hot tear spilled down my cheek and onto Ronan's hand.

He brought his forehead to mine. "I have just one condition."

"Yes?" I whispered.

"Be my wife. Marry me, Liria, queen of my heart."

Joy curved my lips. "All right."

His pale eyes warmed to the color of the sky after a thaw. "All right?"

"Yes."

* * *

Thirty minutes later,Ronan lifted me onto my horse and adjusted my stirrup. His armor reflected the rising sun, and he'd braided his hair away from his face. Summerbane's hilt rested snugly against his ribs. His shoulders looked even broader than usual wrapped in steel. Despite the likelihood of danger that lay before us, fresh arousal stirred in my chest.

"One thing," he murmured, looking up at me with a hand on my ankle. "I don't know what we'll encounter when we cross the Covenant. There is no place for debate in a battle, Liria. I'm commanding this mission. I expect the same obedience from you as I do my men. Lives depend on it. If I give you an order, you follow it and don't argue. Is that clear?"

"It's clear."

He gave my ankle a gentle squeeze, then swung into the saddle and addressed the twenty or so knights in the courtyard.

"Our horses can't cross the Covenant, which means we'll be on foot from the moment we enter Nordlinga. My bond with Sigurn Brighthelm allows me to retain my magic, but the rest of you will shed your gifts as soon as you step into Andulum. I don't ask any of you to fight in these conditions. Anyone who wishes to remain behind may do so without fear of penalty or judgment."

I held my breath. Snowflakes stirred in the morning sunlight that reflected off breastplates and sword hilts. For a moment, silence reigned. Then, the captain who had broken the news about Sigurn taking the scepter nudged his horse forward.

"Respectfully, Your Majesty, the Winter Guard goes where the king goes. So if our king is crossing the Covenant, so are we."

Another knight with a captain's badge on his chest spoke up. "Correct, sire." He ran his gaze over the knights around him and raised his voice. "If our king walks into Nordlinga, we walk with him!"

Shouts of agreement rose in the air.

"If our king crawls into Nordlinga, then we crawl!"

The courtyard rang with whoops and rasp of steel on steel as knights drew their swords. They saluted Ronan, who gripped his reins tightly with an astounded look on his face.

My heart swelled. Slowly, I eased Davina over and placed my hand on Ronan's. When he looked at me, I smiled. "It looks like you got your answer, my king."

The astonishment turned into something softer. Gratitude, I realized. As the knights thumped gauntlet-clad fists against their breastplates, Ronan curled his fingers around mine and lifted my hand to his lips. "They'll follow you too, my queen."

Yes. They would. And no matter which one of us held the scepter, Ronan and I would rule together.

A loud clatter of hooves interrupted the spell that had fallen over the courtyard. Before I could move, Winter Guards surrounded me. Several more guards formed a tight circle around Ronan. The maneuver was one I'd seen numerous times as a child when my parents rode together. In the face of a threat, the guards separated the king and queen. It forced attackers to fight in two places, and it reduced the size of their target. If Ronan and I were lumped together, we could be killed together.

But the men who rode into the courtyard weren't enemies. Lord Ulred trotted at the front of a column. A knight holding the white flag of peace rode at his side. I leaned around the Winter Guard in front of me just in time to see Lord Ulred rein in and signal his men to halt. A second later, movement near the castle's double doors caught my eye.

Cyra stood on the threshold, her skirts in her hands. As we made eye contact, she brightened and gave me a thumbs up.

What in the name of the gods?

"Your Majesty," Lord Ulred said, inclining his head toward Ronan. "I congratulate you on your ascension to the throne."

Ronan nosed his horse through the Winter Guards. His pale eyes flicked over Ulred's men, several of whom held the reins of riderless horses. "Thank you, Lord Ulred. You seem to be missing a few knights."

"No, sire. My men are all accounted for." Lord Ulred moved his gaze to me. "The horses are a gift for Princess Liria."

My heart thumped faster as every head in the courtyard swung toward me. I avoided looking at Cyra as I guided Davina forward. "This is a generous gift, my lord." Somehow, I managed to smile as anxiety prickled through my gut. "I'm not sure I've done anything to deserve it." And please, please don't try to attack Ronan right now.

Lord Ulred shifted in the saddle, his expression almost…nervous. When he shot a hesitant look at Ronan, alarm bells clanged in my head.

I clutched my reins in a stranglehold. "Lord Ulred?—"

"I heard you intend to cross the Covenant, Your Highness," he said. "That's a dangerous prospect for any elf. These horses have been trained to cross the barrier without perishing."

My jaw dropped. Around me, members of the Winter Guard sucked in sharp breaths.

Red spots touched Lord Ulred's cheeks. "I know I broke the law, but I pledged my assistance to you, Princess. I fulfill that pledge now." He gestured to the riderless horse nearest him. "These mounts will carry you safely across the Covenant. You'll find no finer horses in all of Ishulum or Andulum."

For a moment, the courtyard was utterly silent as everyone appeared to absorb the shock of horses that could cross the Covenant. Snowflakes continued to drift over the knights, alighting on long braids and heavy gauntlets.

Ronan looked from the riderless horse to Ulred. "How did you manage this?"

"A great deal of trial and error, sire." A hint of pride touched Lord Ulred's eyes as he gazed at the horse. "This stallion is the son of Winterstride, my destrier. Several years ago, my men and I noticed that some of Winterstride's get were less skittish around the Covenant. We started taking them closer and closer to the barrier. Over time, several of the horses built up a tolerance for lingering near the boundary." Ulred cleared his throat as he returned his gaze to Ronan. "Through a combination of the Old Language and good training, we exposed the horses to the Covenant and, eventually, coaxed them through the barrier."

Ronan stared at the horse, and he seemed to talk mostly to himself when he said, "They don't die when they cross."

"No, Your Majesty." Lord Ulred dismounted, then unlooped the stallion's reins and led the horse to Ronan. With a staid expression, Ulred cleared his throat. "As I said, I know I broke the law. I accept the consequences. But I made a pledge to the princess. I would honor it."

Ronan studied Lord Ulred for a moment, then lifted his voice.

"Princess Liria has agreed to become my wife." Ronan looked at me. "I'll leave it to my queen to decide what to make of this gift."

Once again, all eyes fixed on me. As heat rushed into my cheeks, I had to admire Ronan's cunning. In one fell swoop, he'd locked me into accepting his proposal and absolved himself of the awkwardness of punishing Ulred for breaking a law everyone knew Ronan had broken repeatedly.

But he'd also ceded authority to me in front of the Winter Guard.

Taking a deep breath, I swung down from Davina and went to Lord Ulred. "My father considered you the greatest military strategist in an age, my lord. He also believed that extraordinary circumstances merit changes in the law." A ripple ran through the men around me, and I knew the knights were thinking of how my father had legitimized Ronan. I gestured at the stallion Ulred had identified as Winterstride's offspring. "These horses are a wonder, my lord. I'm honored to accept your gift…and invite you to serve on the Winter Council."

Another ripple ran through the crowd. Somewhere in my peripheral vision, Ronan stared at me.

The smile that broke over Lord Ulred's face transformed his features. With a jolt of shock, I realized there was a handsome man under the square jaw and austere expression.

"You honor me, Your Highness," he said.

I returned his smile. "The honor has always been mine, my lord."

With a command from Ronan, knights dismounted and set about choosing new mounts from among Lord Ulred's horses. Squires bustled around the courtyard, heavy saddles in their arms. In the chaos that followed, I hefted my skirts and made my way to Cyra in the shadow of the castle doors.

"Did you orchestrate this?" I whispered.

She pressed a hand to her chest. "Orchestrate makes me sound devious."

"You are devious," I insisted, but she wasn't listening. She stared across the courtyard, a little smile teasing the corners of her mouth. Frowning, I followed her gaze.

Lord Ulred stood in the center of the disarray, looking completely at ease as he barked orders to his men and directed squires where to go. He'd tucked his helmet under his arm, leaving his long hair to stream down his back. As he instructed one of his knights to tighten a saddle girth, he reached up and adjusted his breastplate. The edge of a sparrow's wing curled over his collarbone, its edges glowing faintly.

My nape prickled as I turned back to Cyra—and my gaze caught on the white wrens visible along her neckline. "When did you get close to Lord Ulred?" I asked.

Cyra startled as she jerked her gaze to mine. "I'm not close to him."

I folded my arms.

She rolled her eyes. "He asked me to dance the night Ronan pulled you from the Hall. I couldn't say no without sounding rude."

A horse's whinny pulled my attention back to the center of the courtyard. "Did you know about the horses?"

"Yes and no." As I swung my gaze back to her, she blushed. "The night he and I danced, I accompanied him to the stables to see Winterstride. Ulred mentioned something about his horses having unique gifts. After I sent the message telling him to hold off with assistance, he replied that he and his men would stay in the forest in case we needed him." Cyra lifted a shoulder. "When I heard the scepter had gone missing, I figured some extra help couldn't hurt."

I pulled her into an embrace and rested my chin on her shoulder. "Thank you. For everything."

She squeezed me, then pulled back and stroked my hair away from my face. "Any time. But right now, a certain Sword of the North looks ready to come fetch you if you don't return to his side."

I looked and, sure enough, Ronan watched us from atop the stallion Lord Ulred had delivered. I let a sigh lift my chest. "I suppose I should help him go reclaim the scepter."

Cyra laughed softly. Then she took my hand, and her blue eyes turned serious. "Please be careful. Sigurn Brighthelm betrayed you once. There's no telling what he's capable of."

An ache shot across my heart. I hadn't allowed myself to dwell on Sigurn's actions. It was bad enough that he'd taken the scepter. I wasn't ready to confront the fact that he'd slept with me—and Ronan—to lure us into letting our guard down. He'd offered me shelter when I needed it. He'd promised to help me. Then he'd used my body and abused my trust.

Was he capable of worse? His treachery was undeniable. So why did something about it feel…off? The man who'd kissed Ronan before the hearth didn't seem like someone coldhearted enough to fake passion for access to power.

Then again, Sigurn was frost-touched. He'd bargained away his freedom in exchange for magic. And when an opportunity for nearly unlimited power had presented itself, he'd taken it.

"We ride!" Ronan announced, his voice ringing around the courtyard. The knights of the Winter Guard struck their gauntleted fists against their breastplates.

As the clash of steel on steel split the air, I squeezed Cyra's hand. "I have to go."

"The gods go with you," she said.

I hurried to Ronan, who swung to the ground and then waved off the squire who rushed forward to help me mount.

"I'll assist the queen," Ronan said.

I raised a brow as he lifted me into the saddle. "I haven't married you yet."

"Details." He gave me an inscrutable look as he mounted and gathered his reins. "I take it Cyra played a role in bringing Lord Ulred and his horses to the castle today?"

"She might have done a little orchestrating."

"Like you offering Ulred a spot on the Winter Council."

I smiled as we urged our horses forward. "You did say you wanted me to rule with you, Glesso."

He sucked in a breath. Heat sparked in his eyes, melting some of the ice. He guided his horse closer, his knee brushing mine.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."