Page 173 of Season Warriors & Wolves

“And Adriata,” Mal said, clearing his throat.

“And Adriata,” I repeated.

“We know who you are,” a gravelly voice called and the Isline men parted for the gruff giant with excellently plated braids to go through. Even buried under those thick pale blonde brows that needed a desperate trim, his yellow eyes met mine. “Kin knows kin and the winds have spoken of you. He asked what you are, not who.”

I didn’t tell him that we were kin as much as penguins were kin to chickens, but I did raise a brow at him to which he huffed full of judgement. “What I am is also who I am.”

“I’m afraid word play is not our thing.”

“Don’t be afraid. And since we are past introductions,” I said, clasping my hands behind me. “Where is your queen, I need to see her.”

“We have no queen.”

“How progressive of you to abolish the monarchy. Foolish, however, considering it is free to take.”

He surveyed me, top to bottom, the strange eyes we shared lingered on my scar and then my eyes. “Are you here to take?”

“Gods no. Krig would absolutely shit himself from laughter if I did though.”

Few gasped and the man narrowed his eyes on me. “Then what have you come to do where you are not welcomed?”

I put a hand to my chest. “Where is the kindness?”

“You are the child of a traitorous king.”

“Ah, another man after my pride. I need a word with your queen.”

“I told you, we have no queen.”

Huh. Had Skadi’s sister died? “King then. Priest, shepherd, bard, whoever you follow.”

“He is listening.”

My brows rose. Did Skadi know? “Your Majesty,” I said, flashing him a smile. “I’ve come to bargain.”

He spat on the ground. “Bargains are evil’s doing. We do not bargain.”

“You will find dealing with this evil rather merciful.”

“We are in no need of mercy.”

“It is because of mercy that you exist. How easy it would have been for my ancestors to have killed you instead of banishing you here. The very foundations you stand and sit and slide on are made of pity and mercy. But my father is less graceful with his mercy than his predecessor. And once he assembles what Tenebrose failed to, you will be the first he will come after.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Assemble?”

“The Octa Virga.”

Few more glances and gasps were exchanged. What an impressionable crowd. Knowledgeable, too, it seems.

“Why should I believe this is not a trick from your father to have us lower our guard?” a tall woman standing beside him said, stepping forward. Another prime Verglaser by the colour of her eyes. Perhaps another Krigborn?

“Lower your guard? Dear, you have no guard at all. My father has been roaming your mountains for months searching for the sceptre piece hidden in your temples and you’ve not once caught him. I came here without a hitch, a minute's walk from Isjord to here. Had you known that?” I stepped forward. “If I wanted your lands, I would have taken it with a toothpick and a dream.”

The man and girl shared a look. “What are you asking?”

“Not asking, offering you a choice. Die here, expecting. Or die in the battle that is about to ensue.”

“Not much of an offer.”