Read Online King of Mist (Steel and Fire Book 2) by Jordan Rivet - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jordan Rivet
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should tell Siv about her parents. She’d known it from the very first day. Something always held her back, though. She couldn’t bear to see his reaction when he learned who had killed his father. She pulled her cloak closer, armoring herself against the damp and the mist. She had thought it would feel better to talk about her parents with someone, but hearing her suspicions confirmed out loud wasn’t much comfort after all. And Berg hadn’t been surprised.
“Did you know about my parents when you asked me to train with the prince months ago?” she asked him. “That was a big risk.”
“A risk, yes,” Berg said. “But I know my students.”
Dara didn’t respond. She wondered what would have happened if she had told her parents about the prince from the beginning. Perhaps Berg had been hoping their partnership would lead to an eventual reconciliation between the Amintelles and the Ruminors. If so, he had put too much faith in her relationship with her parents. On the other hand, they could have asked her to spy on their behalf, or even carry the poison to the castle herself. Although, even if she hadn’t come to care for Siv, she didn’t think she could have done that anyway. Maybe Berg did know her well.
They walked all the way to the northern slope of Square Peak, not far from the largest of the paddocks where mountain ponies were raised. King’s Peak and the Fissure were hidden from view here. Instead, the desolate range of the Burnt Mountains spread out in the distance. Smoky clouds hung above them, simmering with red light even at midnight.
The mists continued to drift and curl around Square Peak, and the full moon set them aglow. Suddenly, Berg ducked behind a run-down shack near the edge of the paddock. He blended with the shadows for a moment. Then a rustling, crackling sound came from the darkness, and he pulled back a bundle of dried branches, revealing the entrance to a tunnel leading deep into the mountain.
“We go in here,” Berg said. “Draw your weapon.”
7.
House Denmore
DINNERwas going well, all things considered. Siv was quite certain he had been suitably charming. He had complimented Lady Tull on her dress and her impeccable table manners. They had talked about the coming winter and even shared the gossip about Lady Samanar’s latest antics. The view was magnificent, as expected. It really should have been a romantic evening, but Siv felt as if Lady Tull’s crusty advisors had shown up for dinner rather than the woman herself. She kept her cards close to the chest, that one.
“Do you still continue to duel, Your Highness?” she asked as they started in on the baked plum with sweet brandy sauce the cooks had prepared specially for her visit.
“I’ve been too busy,” Siv said.
“Weren’t you supporting a duelist for a time?”
“Cheering her on, yes,” Siv said. He didn’t add that Dara now lived on the castle grounds. It wasn’t near midnight yet. She was probably still here somewhere. He hoped she would be all right out in the dark with Berg later. He was most likely on Siv’s side, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
Lady Tull was still looking at him. Right, he was supposed to be wooing her, not thinking about Dara.
“Do you like to watch dueling?” he asked.
“It is too violent for me, I’m afraid,” Lady Tull said. “Bolden loves dueling, though. I understand he’s also training with the sword.”
Siv swallowed a chunk of plum, and it went down the wrong pipe. He choked and sputtered, trying to wash it down with several large gulps of wine. That was news to him. Why would Bolden be training to fight? He much preferred to let other people entertain him than to exert himself directly.
“The Rollendars have always sponsored duelists,” Siv said when he recovered from nearly choking to death. “I understand the Ferringtons do not.”
“That’s true, but my late husband’s father did,” Lady Tull said. “House Denmore
“Did you know about my parents when you asked me to train with the prince months ago?” she asked him. “That was a big risk.”
“A risk, yes,” Berg said. “But I know my students.”
Dara didn’t respond. She wondered what would have happened if she had told her parents about the prince from the beginning. Perhaps Berg had been hoping their partnership would lead to an eventual reconciliation between the Amintelles and the Ruminors. If so, he had put too much faith in her relationship with her parents. On the other hand, they could have asked her to spy on their behalf, or even carry the poison to the castle herself. Although, even if she hadn’t come to care for Siv, she didn’t think she could have done that anyway. Maybe Berg did know her well.
They walked all the way to the northern slope of Square Peak, not far from the largest of the paddocks where mountain ponies were raised. King’s Peak and the Fissure were hidden from view here. Instead, the desolate range of the Burnt Mountains spread out in the distance. Smoky clouds hung above them, simmering with red light even at midnight.
The mists continued to drift and curl around Square Peak, and the full moon set them aglow. Suddenly, Berg ducked behind a run-down shack near the edge of the paddock. He blended with the shadows for a moment. Then a rustling, crackling sound came from the darkness, and he pulled back a bundle of dried branches, revealing the entrance to a tunnel leading deep into the mountain.
“We go in here,” Berg said. “Draw your weapon.”
7.
House Denmore
DINNERwas going well, all things considered. Siv was quite certain he had been suitably charming. He had complimented Lady Tull on her dress and her impeccable table manners. They had talked about the coming winter and even shared the gossip about Lady Samanar’s latest antics. The view was magnificent, as expected. It really should have been a romantic evening, but Siv felt as if Lady Tull’s crusty advisors had shown up for dinner rather than the woman herself. She kept her cards close to the chest, that one.
“Do you still continue to duel, Your Highness?” she asked as they started in on the baked plum with sweet brandy sauce the cooks had prepared specially for her visit.
“I’ve been too busy,” Siv said.
“Weren’t you supporting a duelist for a time?”
“Cheering her on, yes,” Siv said. He didn’t add that Dara now lived on the castle grounds. It wasn’t near midnight yet. She was probably still here somewhere. He hoped she would be all right out in the dark with Berg later. He was most likely on Siv’s side, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
Lady Tull was still looking at him. Right, he was supposed to be wooing her, not thinking about Dara.
“Do you like to watch dueling?” he asked.
“It is too violent for me, I’m afraid,” Lady Tull said. “Bolden loves dueling, though. I understand he’s also training with the sword.”
Siv swallowed a chunk of plum, and it went down the wrong pipe. He choked and sputtered, trying to wash it down with several large gulps of wine. That was news to him. Why would Bolden be training to fight? He much preferred to let other people entertain him than to exert himself directly.
“The Rollendars have always sponsored duelists,” Siv said when he recovered from nearly choking to death. “I understand the Ferringtons do not.”
“That’s true, but my late husband’s father did,” Lady Tull said. “House Denmore
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