Page 50 of The Prince's Fealty

It still defied description, this idea that thousands of people were willing to pledge themselves to Tor and trust that he was going to try to take care of them—including nine people who knew full well how capable of messing up Tor was.

As the pledging continued, he recognized the man who’d been in charge on the mountains, the one who’d told Tor about their numbers and confirmed that they could escape if Tor made a good enough distraction. His name was Nor, and Tor barely managed not to make a joke about rhymes. But the man nodded solemnly at Tor before making his pledge, and Tor had known this wasn’t the moment.

He thought he recognized a few more from the night when the exiles had tried to flee, but it had been such chaos then, he couldn’t be sure. Now and again, someone still changed their mind, like they’d geared themselves up and thought they could handle it, but then realized when faced with Tor that they couldn’t.

He didn’t blame them. It meant trusting a perfect stranger wouldn’t pull magic out of you to further their own ends, knowing that rulers had done it in the past. Tor didn’t blameanyonefor deciding that didn’t work for them.

But as the sun rose in the sky, Tor was pretty sure that Istila had been right, and it had probably been about five thousand people who’d been willing to pledge.

The magic was there inside him now, somehow not filling him up to bursting but instead settled deep in his core.

It was something to be protected at all costs, not a pool to dip into for his own needs.

“If I ever seem like I’m forgetting the importance of each individual person, you have permission to kick me, all right?” Tor told Pel.

Pel’s lips quirked up. “Oh, I would have done that anyway. But I’m not worried. You’re very good at connecting with individual people. I think you’ll be fine.”

Tor certainly hoped so. He couldn’t imagine taking advantage of these people—but he also knew that his outlook on magic was totally different from Pel’s. Who was to say that Tor wouldn’t start taking this magic for granted after he’d grown used to it? He was glad he had someone like Pel to ensure he never forgot.

Tama and Istila wrapped up the line of exiles. Tor looked uncertainly between Istila and Bavil.

“Uh, I don’t want to intrude on any family drama, but I feel sure that Bavil would accept your Fealty and welcome you back in Tond.”

Tor shouldnothave spoken for the man, but Bavil was already nodding.

“Yes, of course. I’m not—” Pel’s brother cut himself off, drew a deep breath, and seemed to marshal his thoughts. He met his mother’s gaze squarely. “I don’t think I can forgive yet that you left us behind, but I believe that you did what you needed to do for you. It’s been nearly fifteen years, and if that’s the land you’re now connected to, I can understand that. I hope you’ll visit, regardless.”

Istila’s brown eyes, so similar to Pel’s, went glassy. “I’d really like to do that. I wish I’d seen another way that didn’t involve abandoning you. And I hope you understand why I feel like I can’t abandon the exiles while this is still unresolved.”

Her eyes went between Pel and Bavil, and after a moment, they both nodded. Tor assumed that many more discussions would be necessary to work through this, but it was a good start.

Less worried now, Tor accepted Istila and Tama’s Fealty, and nobody said anything about the way Tama and Bavil very definitely didn’t look at one another.

And then, to Tor’s surprise, he found three more people now lined up in front of him.

He looked at them, and then he looked at Bavil, who smiled.

“I think you’re stuck with them.”

Tor turned back. “Are you really sure? This might all go wrong.”

“I’m altogether certain,” Beluna told him with that easy assurance that had characterized everything she’d done thus far. “I’ve known I’d follow you since you saved the exiles. This is something I want to do.”

Cavun nodded his head. “I have people that I’d like to be reunited with, and I know that you’re the type of ruler I want to follow.”

Then he looked at Bavil and made a face, starting to apologize, but the new ruler of Tond waved this off with a laugh.

“Zero offense taken, I promise. If I’d been through what you had, I’m sure I’d be pledging myself to him, too.”

Then Tor looked at Denil. “You have a wife and a baby.”

The slender man nodded. “That’s true. But I feel as strongly as the others do about you.”

Tor still wasn’t sure what would happen with the baby if their parents were pledged to different rulers, and he didn’t want to find out this way.

“I think Bavil and I can both agree to get along,” Tor told him with a smirk. “Why don’t you think about it and talk it over with your wife? Nothing has to be decided right now, and I’d hate if it caused any conflict in your family.”

If Tor died, it would be a moot point. If this all worked, then there was no reason Tor couldn’t accept one more family at a later date.