Page 32 of The Prince's Fealty

Any of themcouldbe scheming against him, but as he tried to disentangle whispers that Yomil had uttered, he was increasingly certain there was no real evidence of that. Where did that leave him? An unknown number of people within the United Realms were conspiring?

He’d have to hope that Captain Darmila was having more luck in Nexa. If she’d captured Yomil, they would force him to give them the answers they sought. Var knew there wasn’t much he could do from here, and the thought sat heavy on his shoulders even amidst the certainty that he’d done the right thing to protect his family.

Once Ada was here, once Var had heard from Darmila, he would figure out what to do next. He’d keep his family safe, and he’d get to the bottom of any threat against the United Realms. Var had inherited the realms in peace, and he intended to keep it that way.

Nostex had finally convinced Var to come and look at his “collection” with him, though he’d let Ferna bow out to stay with the napping baby. Before all this had happened, Pamuna would take care of Cala for most of the day. Like his wife, Var could no longer imagine their precious daughter out of his sight. When they resumed their duties in Alossa, this was going to get awkward, but they’d simply have to figure out a new way to manage. Surely an infant would enliven court events?

Here in Filon, there was nothing Var needed to do. Nostex ran his realm ably, and Var didn’t want to appear like he was trying to exercise his powers as High King and overrule the man. He might not choose to rule Filon the same way his father-in-law did, but the whole point of the peace accords was that the individual rulers retained most of their autonomy. Var received their Fealty—and a portion of their taxes—for certain realms-wide initiatives and protections. He’d always treated that as an opportunity for them to strengthen the peace and work together, even if that meant taking exhausting tours of relics that bored him.

Var would never admit how much he agreed with his brother on the absolute tedium of viewing innumerable relics from the war and the years before. (Tor would never have to see the collection again. The thought brought a lump to Var’s throat and caught him awkwardly between laughter and tears.) His father-in-law liked to talk about them in great detail, and Var eventually grew tired of trying to feign interest.

But the last thing he wanted to do was offend someone who was both Ferna’s father and another ruler in the United Realms, especially when the man was kind enough to shelter and protect them. So he allowed himself to be escorted around, paying cursory attention as his mind spun in circles around his own problems as well as wondering just what had been here before Nostex had started collecting all these artifacts. He’d filled multiple rooms on at least two of the lower levels of the castle with swords, shields, other weapons, and pieces of armor. There were standards, the occasional well-preserved tunic or horse blanket, and a truly bewildering array of broken items from everyday life, where farms, villages, and towns had been overrun.

Var didn’t want to ever forget what they’d gone through and why this peace was so important, but he doubted this was the best way to remember what mattered. They needed to honor the past but also look to the future to ensure that everyone remained happy. The peace accords hadn’t brought perfection, but he’d thought everyone was reasonably content. They’d even been able to give the exiles a place to live outside of the structure that maintained the United Realms. That had clearly gone wrong, or Tor wouldn’t have had to save thousands of them up a mountain in the middle of the night. But what was the true story?

King Forex’s letter about Tor’s interference had screamed outrage from every word. Var had never taken it at face value, but with Yomil assuring him that the situation was grave, he’d assumed at least some of it was true.

What if none of it was? What ifForexwas responsible for all of this? He’d never been happy about the size of Tond following the peace accords. He was the most likely to complain about the loss of the “good old days,” not wanting to admit all the good that had come of this peace.

Had he written that letter not because he was outraged and had lost his temper, but as a very calculated attempt to ensure that Var blamed Tor for what was going on?

Should Var confront him and try to get to the bottom of this? He was only a few days away, rather than separated by the entirety of the United Realms. He could only imagine what Captain Darmila would say given that Var had two guards here (or would once Harili got back with Ada). As anxious as Var was to figure out what was going on, even he could recognize that going into a ruler’s territory with all of two guards and accusing him of treason wasn’t the best plan.

But he really wanted to know what was going on.

Var blinked back to the present as he became aware that Nostex wasn’t speaking anymore. Had he missed a question? But no, a guard was leaning in to say something quietly to him. Var’s gut clenched.

Nostex was nodding, smiling brightly, and Var felt himself relax a little. Not bad news, then. Would he ever stop fearing what came next?

Dismissing the guard, Nostex turned back to Var. “I was waiting for an important delivery, and now it’s arrived!”

“Wonderful,” Var murmured, hoping it wasn’t more for this collection. Surely, there was a limit to how much needed to be preserved.

Nostex’s eyes twinkled. “I’ve got just a few more things to show you, and then perhaps we can see if Cala is awake and have some refreshments.”

“That sounds perfect,” Var said, hoping he didn’t sound too fervent.

Nostex began to chatter again, and Var tried to pay attention, really he did. They went down another set of stairs and passed into a narrow corridor, plainer than some of the other areas where they’d been. Var assumed this meant Nostex had needed to expand again. Seriously, how could anyone need this much stuff? Had Nostex meant he was going to show Var a few morerooms?

He suppressed a sigh. Ferna always looked so hopeful when she asked him if he’d had a good time with her father. Var would therefore always lie about it, and that meant he had to work to ensure it didn’t seem like a lie.

(If only he’d realized how large Nostex’s collection was years ago, perhaps he could have taken Ferna’s stance and declared a distaste for all the weaponry that would have let him get out of all these tours. Var would never confess to anyone that he occasionally feigned being extra busy in order to put off a trip to Filon.)

They went down one more flight of stairs, these ones twisting tightly, and Var wondered if one day, the entire castle would be filled completely with historical mementos. He pitied the staff who needed to keep the vast array of items clean. It wasn’t very well lit down here, and at some point Nostex had acquired a torch. (Apparently, Var really hadn’t been paying very much attention.)

They went down another narrow, ill-lit corridor, and arrived at a closed door, thick wood banded with iron.

“This is one of my best!” Nostex said excitedly, setting the torch into a bracket by the wall as he brandished a key. “Kept safe and secure! I can’t wait to show you.”

Var murmured something appropriate, wondering what could possibly need to be locked away. The entire collection was filled with a great deal of metal, but otherwise, he didn’t see it having a lot of value to anyone.

Nostex fiddled with the large iron lock. Finally, the key turned, and he pushed upon the door. It was shadowed and dark inside.

“You go ahead,” Nostex said. “Let me just grab the torch.”

Var stepped inside, not able to see much past the door and the stone floor he was standing on. Behind him, the torch went suddenly out. Var was turning as the burst of magic hit him, and his shield snapped into place even as he was lifted off his feet and fell… and fell.

His heart hammered frantically as he wondered how hard his landing was going to be, though he’d be somewhat protected by the shield. He flinched as his shield crashed… into water? His magic absorbed most of the force, though he felt it reverberate through him. More importantly in this case, his shield kept him dry and able to breathe. It would keep him from sinking too far, but he couldn’t move deliberately. The shield would simply remain suspended in the water. To get out, he’d need to remove the shield to swim to safety, but—