Page 43 of Rule of Wolves

“Maybe not,” said Brum. “But has he pushed himself? Challenged himself? I’ve done my best to help him, to be a mentor and a guide. He is the heir to the throne, but if the extent of his infirmity became common knowledge, do you really think Fjerda would accept him as their king?”

Again, Nina wondered what game Brum was playing. She had no doubt he believed all this nonsense he was spewing about manhood and Fjerdan strength. It was also clear he had no respect for the prince. But was there more?

In the week since Fjerda’s defeat at Nezkii and Ulensk, Brum had done his best to hide his frustration. The failed invasion meant that Fjerda had to at least entertain the possibility of diplomacy over war. But if the prince died or was incapacitated, Fjerda would have only the old king and the younger prince to rule. It might be a perfect opportunity for someone to step in and take the reins for a grateful royal family. And once that was done, just who would convince Brum to hand them back? He had the respect and support of the military. He knew the workings of the court inside and out. Nina felt dread like a yoke around her neck. Fjerda’s policies had grown only more brutal under Brum’s influence. What would it mean for her country and for her people if there was no check on his power?

Ylva shook her head. “Why did you never tell me the prince’s case was so dire?”

“Our position at court and my position with the military are closely tied to the favor of the royal family. After the prison break and the destruction of the treasury … I’ve had to fight for our place here, and I could not risk indiscretion. The Grimjers will do everything they can to minimize this incident and to discredit those who witnessed it most closely.”

“I had his blood on me,” said Hanne. “He’s dying.”

Nina wanted to kick her. They needed to stay quiet until they knew what Brum had seen or what he thought he’d seen. And yet she was starting to think they’d gotten away with Hanne’s breach. Maybe Brum had been too focused on the prince’s public display of weakness to understand what had really happened.

“Probably,” said Brum. “But he’s doing the throne the discourtesy of dying slowly. The royal family will want to silence Hanne. Young women gossip.”

“Not Hanne!” cried Ylva.

“But how are they to know that? She has no reputation at court. She’s been gone so long, few could speak to her character.”

“Surely you can protect her?”

“I don’t know.”

Ylva moaned. “Tell me they won’t harm her.”

“No, but they might send her away.”

“Exile?” Ylva threw her arms around her daughter. “I won’t allow it. We waited too long to have her back with us. I won’t let her be taken from me again.”

Nina watched Hanne’s mother cling to her daughter in fright and didn’t know what to do. She could feel danger speeding toward them. She was good at anticipating threats, she’d had to be, but this one had seemed to come from nowhere in the fragile body of a boy.

A knock sounded at the door. It was a young man in a drüskelle uniform. Nina recognized him from the prince’s retinue in the ballroom.

“Joran.” Brum waved him in. “Joran is bodyguard to the prince.”

“Is he all right?” asked Hanne.

Joran nodded. His training was too good for him to twist his hands together or fidget, but Nina could see he was nervous. “Sir,” he said, then hesitated. “Commander Brum, the royal family has ordered the presence of your daughter and her maid.”

A soft sob escaped Ylva. But Brum simply nodded. “I see. Then we must go.”

Joran cleared his throat. “They were specific in their invitation. Only the girls are wanted.”

“Djel, what is this?” Ylva said, tears streaming down her cheeks now. “We can’t let this happen. Hanne cannot face them alone.”

“I’m not alone,” said Hanne. She was trembling slightly, but she rose. “I have Mila.”

“Change your dress,” said Brum.

She glanced down at the bloodstains. “Of course. I’ll need a moment.”

Ylva grabbed Hanne’s arm. “No. No. Jarl, you cannot let her do this.”

“She must.” He laid his hand on Hanne’s shoulder. “You are my daughter and you will not hang your head.”

Hanne lifted her chin. “Never.”

The look in Brum’s eyes might have been pride.