Page 80 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

Gemma’s talking with her hands, describing something to Rosie, and her whole face is animated in a way I rarely get to see.

I want to bottle this moment and keep it somewhere safe. This is who she is when she’s not afraid.

Hayes catches my eye and grins because he sees what I see too.

We pass through the castle gates. My father stands silently waiting in the courtyard, his gaze finding our group and holding.

The warmth from the clearing dies between one breath and the next. Gemma’s face closes off, and Hayes’s shoulders curl inward like they always do when Father is near.

“Grier. Ryewood.” My father’s voice has a warmness I know not to trust, the one that makes people believe he’s kind. “I need you to prepare for departure at first light tomorrow. Lord and Lady Willowmere are having a magical tethering ceremony in Briarwood; it’s only a few days’ ride. I was planning on attending, but my attention is needed here.”

Grier nods. “Understood, Your Majesty.”

“Finn. You’ll accompany them.”

Finn dips his head in acknowledgment, but I’m barely listening.

I look at Gemma, and the thought lands sharp and immediate. If I leave, she’s here alone within reach of my father, with no one between them. Every instinct is screaming that this place is dangerous and that leaving would be a mistake I would regret.

“The swordmaster should come as well.” I hear myself say. “For training.”

Grier’s gaze flicks to me with a sharp warning.

Finn talks first. “That’s not necessary. I can handle the training for a few days⁠—”

“Bring the swordmaster if you wish, makes no difference to me,” Father says, waving a dismissive hand. “You should know there’s been word of unrest in the northern villages. I would like you to look into it while you’re there.”

“You should send Rosie as well then,” Gemma says.

Father turns and looks at her like he’s noticing a servant who’s spoken out of turn. “The trial winner? What for?”

The dismissal in his tone makes my fist clench.

“She’s an icon for the people,” Gemma says confidently. “She’s common-born. They see her as one of them. If the northern villages see her standing with the crown and supporting the princes, it will go a long way toward cooling tempers.”

Father’s attention sharpens on Gemma, his expression edged with calculation, the look he gets when he’s reassessing a piece on his board.

“Yes, that’s a sound idea,” he says slowly. “You think like someone who’s spent time around courts. Where did you say you trained again before coming to Terrath?”

Gemma doesn’t miss a beat. “Small towns, Your Majesty. Wherever work took me.”

Father’s eyes narrow. “And yet you move through my castle like you belong here.” He tilts his head. “Curious.”

Gemma holds his gaze, but I can see the tension in her shoulders. The careful stillness of someone trying very hard not to run.

“I vetted her credentials myself shortly after she arrived, Father.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

Father’s gaze shifts to me, slow and deliberate, and he draws a slow breath in through his nose.

“Did you.”

“She trained in the outer villages,” I continue, because stopping now would be worse than pushing through. “Her references were impeccable.”

The lie burns in my throat. I don’t know where she trained. I don’t know anything about her past, not really. I just know I can’t stand here and watch him circle her like prey.

Father studies me for a long moment. The courtyard has gone quiet, and I can feel Grier’s tension behind me, Finn’s restlessness, and Hayes standing rigid at the edge of my vision.

“The outer villages,” Father repeats. “Interesting. I wasn’t aware you’d taken such a…thorough interest in our swordmaster’s background.”