Sly

Chapter Twenty Nine

"Sit down. Please."

I took the seat Rorik gestured to on the other side of his small side table. It was a moment before I responded. The knot in my heart was tight, and the words of Davery's death were still raw and new. How to begin?

"He's . . . dead." I didn't dare speak names here, not knowing where ears could be hiding in the unfamiliar room. A game the royal was likely familiar with too. Odd how in that moment I could have something in common with a prince.

Rorik sat his glass down hard. "How?"

"Knife to the stomach. It was fast." The last word tried to choke me as my voice cracked.

"I'm sorry. I know he was your brother." The prince scowled and looked out at the library blankly. "He was a good man. Smart, Sage bless him."

"He told me to find you," I whispered, letting my eyes fall closed and stay there. "Even dying he thought it important."

"I'm glad you came here to tell me. I hope it wasn't too hard to get in, your skills are improving." Rorik's auburn hair was swept back from his face, showing so much of his expression that I almost believed the concern. Even the barb at my ability to sneak in went without a smile from me. He saw as much and turned his eyes to the glass he had poured, swirling the amber drink slowly. "He and I were working together on a plan, though now I'm afraid I'll have to rethink it. I know it's still raw for you, but would you be able to tell me who did it?"

In for a copper, in for an arm.

I told him. I told him about Grethan and how he acted strangely. I told him about how they had encountered Grethan in the first place and about my suspicions of him. I told him about the burning, and how Spirit took him. Somewhere in the middle I must have begun crying and Rorik handed me a handkerchief. His face darkened the more I told him. He wore both an expression of upset and cold, cruel calculation.

"This Grethan, could you describe him for me?" Rorik asked. I did. Everything from his hair and general appearance to his voice, clothes, and a couple memorable scars on his arms. Grethan would be someone I could remember for the rest of my life. He'd ensured his place in my memory the night he took my brother's life.

"Do you know him, sir?" I asked.

"I'm not sure enough to say yet." The prince inclined his head. "I do want to bring justice to your brother. He was a good man, I had hopes to keep him in a personal council of mine when this business with Lord Girault finished."

"Sir?" I asked puzzled. My brother was just a peasant as far as Rorik, third prince of Unays, should be concerned.

"I told you once before. I judge people on character, not silly names their long dead ancestors earned the family," Rorik replied. "Captain Pettypiece is one example, his family is from Foothills District. He rose to Captain of our Guard on his own merits, his second in command is a lazy good for nothing Duke's son only there because of his family. Which do you think I would rather have protecting my life?"

I saw his point, of course. I was just surprised anyone so highborn could come to that conclusion at such a young age. He was probably only a year or two my senior, twenty three maybe? And already valuing people on abilities and not status.

"Thank you, that would have honored him," I said solemnly.

Quiet settled between us. J sat stiffly in my chair, considering the company I kept, but otherwise it was not unpleasant. It gave me a moment to think about the man before me. He was so different than I expected a prince to be.

"Well, we probably missed the second course anyway, would you like a drink? We can sneak back in when the next break starts." He rang a small bell on the table and a servant came over. He asked for a glass for me, and the servant bowed and returned with one quickly. I wasn't ready to be waited on, but if they could tell I wasn't a noble they didn't say anything about it as my cup was presented and filled in the span of a moment, and then we were left alone once more.