Page 6 of The Prince's Fealty

“I’m still sorry,” Tor assured him.

Emotions were messy, and someone might not deserve love or affection but have it anyway.

Pel huffed something that was almost a laugh. “If you insist on being sorry, I guess I can’t stop you.”

Honestly, Tor was pretty sure that the man’s death could only be a good thing for Pel and Tond and the United Realms… but he was still Pel’s father. Pel was still processing the news, and Tor didn’t want to say anything that might be regretted later.

He’d keep hisgood riddancefirmly on the inside and remind himself that maybe once upon a time the man had had some good qualities.

Pel squeezed Tor’s hand, and Tor returned the pressure. He’d support Pel however he needed to be supported. And he was also going to try to help his brother out.

“I may not be an expert in Fealty, but Icantest if you have Extraordinary magical ability now,” Tor told Bavil. He gestured at one of the bundles of blankets that had been tucked to the side during the day. “You were at a number of Larexa’s lessons. Shield that.”

Bavil looked stunned, like he hadn’t realized all the implications. If he had the Fealty of the people, then he was unquestionably Extraordinary. And that meant he could create stand-alone magic in a way that Illustrious couldn’t.

Lights were actually easier, but the lessons with Larexa had focused on shield creation, and Bavil had been to multiple of those. Sure, he’d just been an observer for those parts, but they’d talked a lot about shields and the effort it took to raise them.

A look of intense concentration settled over Bavil’s face, his gaze narrowed on the bundle of cloth. As Tor watched, a small shield flickered and began to take shape around the blankets, wide and low. It wavered and then disappeared.

Bavil was gaping at where the shield had been like he’d never seen one before, which certainly wouldn’t have helped with his concentration. But those brief seconds had been all they needed. Yes, it had been brief, but it had been distinctly separate from Bavil, and no Illustrious could do that.

The hiss of the flames in the fire pit was the only sound. Everyone seemed frozen in the wake of the display and its implications.

Tor spoke into the silence. “Given your increase in magic, Bavil, I believe your suspicions are correct, and your father is dead.”

They just needed to find his body and figure outwhy. In the midst of everything else that had happened in the last few weeks, it seemed awfully suspicious.

Or maybe Tor was just seeing everything through a doubtful lens given what he’d been through.

There was another long moment of silence, like they were all digesting this, and then Tama spoke.

“So you’re now the King of Tond?”

All heads swung round to Bavil. He grimaced.

“Not yet? I mean, maybe?” He looked more than a little flustered. “There’s no body, and we have no idea what’s happened. I don’t think anyone’s going to simply accept me slapping a crown on my head.”

Tor made a face. Yeah, no, that sounded like a terrible idea—if for no other reason than because if it somehow turned out that Forex wasn’t dead, he would never forgive his son for declaring himself king in his absence.

“Then what happens?” Tama demanded.

Bavil looked at Tor, who shrugged.

“Well, I guess you’d need to petition my brother. Varex would make a provisional declaration, probably institute a realms-wide search, and there’d likely be a waiting period. If the body was found, it would make everything simpler. Without it, I imagine that you would be Prince Regent for a longer period, or something to that effect.”

“But you’re now the one making the decisions?” Tama pursued doggedly, her expression intent.

“Yes,” Bavil confirmed, looking an almost comical mixture of surprised and determined. “At least until the High King tells me not to. Father put me in charge while he’s gone, so that should hold, at least, until everything else is straightened out.”

Tama drew in a deep breath and let it out in a short rush. She squared her shoulders, tension suddenly bristling in every line of her body.

The words practically burst out of her, vibrating with intensity. “I need to bring someone to meet you. I mean, I need to go ask. But I think it makes sense. If this means we can actually have a conversation with Tond for the first time in more than twenty-five years, I think that would be beneficial for everyone.”

Bavil looked surprised, but after a moment, he nodded. “I’d be happy to enter into discussions with you, you know that. But I can’t absolutely guarantee that anything I say won’t be overturned by the High King—or my father, should this turn out to be a huge misunderstanding.”

“I understand,” Tama said with a sharp nod.

It was clear she’d screwed herself up to a point of resolution. Opening talks with Tond could have implications for the entirety of the United Realms—but it was equally true that things couldn’t continue on as they were. And the rest of the United Realms wasn’t bearing the burden of the raiding and whatever else was going on here.