Page 130 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

Herring.

“Is this younotlooking for her again?” Kirill muttered from his spot at my side.

We were waiting outside with the estate regiment, and he was at my left while Taras stood in his place at my right.

I ostensibly ignored Kirill as I surveyed the newest soldiers taking their turn on farming duty in the distance.

It was part of their training now, a way to ensure we made use of the seeds Lochlann had sent without sacrificing the troops I was beginning to suspect we would need. Only a small portion of it was here at the estate, while the rest had already been distributed to the farmland around the villages.

Kirill gave a chuckle at my lack of response, and Taras huffed out his more controlled version of one.

“I’m only saying,” Kirill went on. “You look awfully concerned about someone who, what was it you said?” His features twisted into a semblance of contemplation as he pretended to search for the memory. “You couldn’t care less about, so long as it didn’t affect the clan?”

He had not been thrilled about me taking the princess captive to begin with, so I had made my opinion on the matter clear.

“Technically,” I corrected, my lips twitching, “I said I couldn’t care less about her feelings when the clan was at stake.”

And damn it all if even that hadn’t been a lie.

There was no part about Rowan I could seem to avoid caring about, and now...

Two months was far too long to be away from her. It had been bad enough when I thought she was happy, in Lochlann, moving on with her life.

But now she was mine, and she storms-damned well belonged here. With me. Preferably in my bed.

I was providentially distracted by the memories that always accompanied that particular line of thought when anostentatious black carriage came into view. It wasn’t hard to guess who had finally arrived.

“Looks like the bastard has finally decided to make his appearance,” Kirill muttered under his breath.

While Bear’s carriages, like everything else here, were accented in white, Iiro had wasted no time in displaying his new correlation to the obsidian throne. The surrounding regiment wore deep purple uniforms with black buttons and no trace of another color.

I clenched my jaw, not sure which brother I was looking forward to seeing the least. Iiro was perhaps one of my two least favorite people in the entire world, tying closely with my dear stepmother.

But I might never rid myself of the mental image of Korhonan’s body pressed over Rowan’s in the tent at the negotiations, his mouth on her neck, the way she had been flushed with pleasure before fury had made her burn an even brighter shade of crimson.

I decided I would rather see the conniving bastard that had managed to trick my father into helping him become king.

Since I had little choice but to go along with his schemes for the time being, I tucked Rowan’s ring inside my shirt, then ordered my men to stand at attention until he exited the carriage. As soon as Iiro was visible, the soldiers dropped to a knee as one.

I sank into a bow that was probably a hair too shallow. Given his relatively new power and the fact that Bear had no fewer than three clans directly allied to us, in addition to Lochlann, not to mention, we were now in control of most of the resources…Iiro couldn’t actually do anything about it.

Though he did enjoy every moment of dragging out the time before he gave the order for us to rise.

He stopped a few feet from me, his wife and his brother trailing a step behind. Iiro was an inch or two shorter than I was, but he compensated for that with his new crown.

Or rather, his old crown, since it was either the original or a very close replica. Every history book in Socair had a sketch of the tall, black, pointed spikes that made up the obsidian crown.

“I trust your father is well.” His lips tilted up in a taunt. “And your charming stepmother.”

“Both excellent,” I lied.

“And the princess?” he goaded. “I hear there has been trouble at the border. I do hope she makes it in time.”

For all that I had talked to Rowan about self-control, it took everything I had to keep my features neutral at his blatant threat to my wife. Before I could respond, though, Korhonan spoke up in an uncharacteristically hard voice.

“I’m certain she’s well, Brother,” he said pointedly. “After all, we both have a vested interest in Rowan’s safety.”

My eyebrows rose of their own accord. The Theodore I knew would never have contradicted his brother, even in private, let alone in public. Begrudgingly, I was forced to raise my opinion of him the smallest increment.