Page 149 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

Though the maid-spy had lost some of the trust among the staff with her disappearance, most of them seemed to accept that we had sent her with Rowan as a gesture of goodwill. She was at the whims of her dukedom, the same as the rest of them.

Aside from keeping my father updated on the events of the clan, within my discretion, of course, I had relatively few dealings with him.

The lords were another matter. Between their loyalty to their duke and their desire to feed the people under their purview, most of them weren’t outwardly disdainful of my new wife, especially considering they had already grown accustomed to aLochlannian Clan Wife. Not a competent or active one, but at least the concept wasn’t completely foreign to them

My father’s support of Iiro was a different matter, even if they wouldn’t disagree outright. Then there were, of course, the executions of the villagers they were charged to protect.

This afternoon, I sat down with four of the lords who represented our northernmost territory. They didn’t ask where my father was, and I didn’t offer that information.

Though his condition was kept well under wraps, his edicts were not. They were grateful enough to have me in his stead that, most of the time, they did not question why I was the one to do business with them.

Lord Kosolov was the first to speak, as usual.

“There has been concern on the rationing of the food stores to our new king.” He stroked his burly mustache in a way that was entirely too reminiscent of Dmitriy, and I made a show of topping off my vodka as an excuse to avert my gaze.

“Though we have fewer bellies to fill now,” Lord Vystosky added, neither his pale brown eyes nor his even tone betraying a hint of his feelings on the matter.

Bear’s territories were vast, and far more populous than the other clans as a result of my father’s rigid practices during the plague. For better or worse, he had kept our numbers high while the rest of the kingdom dwindled.

Though the people were hungry, we had lost far fewer to starvation since I took over the rations.

Throughout the past decade, there had been fewer than ten villages I was unable to salvage from my father’s wrath, and most of those had been tiny and well away from the larger towns. They would hardly have impacted the number of mouths we had to feed, even with the recent uptick in bloodshed.

Which is how I knew that Lord Vysotsky might have kept himself outwardly under control, but his words were a quietrebellion against my father. It was the kind of dissension that could get him Unclanned, if he were to state it more outright.

I nodded my understanding, taking a sip of my vodka before I responded in a similarly subtle manner.

“We are taking measures to handle the food stores.”I am not prepared to let Iiro interfere with our clan.“And fortunately, my father believes we have a handle on the rebellion in the clan for the time being.”His bloodlust has been sated for now. I have things under control.

The two lords who had spoken exchanged a look while the other two surveyed me over their vodka. Though I was the heir, I did not technically hold the power to make those assurances.

What power I had in this space was from the respect I had garnered from them since I took over my father’s army, and gradually, these meetings. They might have been forced to obey my father, but if I lost their support, we would all pay for that decision. The people, most of all.

Tension hung in the air like blades suspended from the ceiling by a fraying thread, poised to slice us all to ribbons at a single misplaced breath.

Finally, Lord Kosolov nodded. “As you say, Lord Evander.”

Relief washed over me, though I was careful not to show it. Things had been tenuous since my return, but I had spent the past week systematically bringing the lords back to my corner with these small, informal gatherings where I heard out their concerns.

The northern lords were the last I met with, since I needed to give them the most time to recover from my father’s recent singling out of their people.

I let out a slow, subtle breath, my lips turning up at the corners as I took another sip of my vodka.

After tomorrow’s Council of Lords, which should go smoothly now, I could return my focus to Iiro and getting him far away from my people.

That evening, I sorted through several coded missives from my spies while Rowan took time to further familiarize herself with the contents of her closet that had been stocked before she arrived. When she was finished with that, she came into my office, shuffling a bit restlessly.

I moved on to my backup plan for keeping Iiro well away from our food stores. Since he would be itching to take our newly acquired goods as a power move, I would have to maneuver him into being forced to accept the proposal.

It wasn’t finalized yet, but I had the beginnings of a plan to work with the resources we had—one that didn’t involve him seizing more. Since the other clans would likewise want their food stores left alone, I stood a chance at gaining their support.

Rowan flitted over to my desk, peering curiously over my shoulder.

“What are those?” Her curls brushed along my arm, reminding me of all the ways we could be enjoying one another if I weren’t constantly occupied by the self-proclaimed king and all the pain-in-the-arsery he brought with him.

“Plans for reallocating resources in a way that might actually address both the famine and the population issues.” There was a bite in my tone, one I hoped she realized was directed at him and not her. “Not that Iiro will ever listen.”

“That’s why alliances are so important to you,” she surmised, twisting to lean against the edge of my desk.