“How better to show your strength than by killing boys!” she spat at him.
Mikael darted his eyes to Soren, who had walked in behind her.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Mikael asked.
“A group of boys crossed the border, and I sent them back,” she told him. “But they ran into your brute along the way, and he slaughtered them!”
“They weren’t boys,” Soren countered. “They were nearing twenty.”
“Boys!” she cried.
“Old enough to battle,” Soren argued. “And from Osan.”
She gave the commander an appalled look and shook her head in disgust. “What’s wrong with you? And what does it matter where they’re from?” She turned back to Mikael. “He does this in your name! The prince was with them, and your monster sent him back with a threat to his father—he openly invites war!”
Anger flared within him. She didn’t understand the ways of Kharav, and Soren was certainly ensuring her introduction to them was most unpleasant. He’d deal with him later. “Salara,” he tried to calm her. “You’ll come to understand we must do necessary evils to keep Kharav safe.”
She shook her head again. “No. Don’t pass this off as a necessary thing! Any competent man would’ve seen they weren’t a threat.”
He looked at Soren, who waited quietly, unfazed. Mikael gritted his teeth. Heat veined under his skin at his commander’s indifference to her upset. But she would need to understand that Kharav was a kingdom of war. He turned back to her. “We defend our borders most savagely. This is known to our enemies with certainty, and it’s this certainty that keeps us safe.”
Her face twisted. “That’s your answer? Safety?” She backed away from him as she shook her head in disgust. “Well then, enjoy your safety thinking of slaughtered boys!” She turned and stormed from the study.
Mikael pushed out a breath as he slowly rolled the parchments and wrapped the leather cord around them. His fury built from deep within, and it took every ounce of strength he had to control it. He waited until she was out of earshot before he cast a sharp eye at Soren. “Have you no sense?”
Soren’s brow hung darker. “You would have done the same,” he argued.
“Not in front of Salara! She thinks we thirst for violence.” The harming of innocents—it bothered her. Deeply. “She doesn’t understand our ways. She isn’t hardened to them.”
Soren sighed. “I let Jeord live. His father will see it as a mercy. They dare not bring war against us, and that piss prince will think before he crosses our border again.”
“You fail me.”
Soren shifted back. Mikael had never uttered those words to him before. “I told her to leave. What else was I to do?”
Mikael’s frustration grew. “You should have let them go. Her loathing is already upon me, and you push her further away!”
“Is it not better now than later, brother?”
Mikael slammed his fist on his desk. “I’m not your brother—I am salar!” he thundered. “And so help you if I lose her.”
Soren stepped backward, clearly taken aback by Mikael’s rage toward him. His eyes flashed with his own anger, but he bowed his head in submission, and Mikael pushed past him and out of the room.
Norah stood in the library. She stared at the books on the shelves, but she didn’t see them. She couldn’t stay here any longer; she couldn’t be here. Her heart longed for Mercia—its grace, its refinement, its civility. Kharav… Kharav was a kingdom of monsters.
She drew in a deep breath. With this marriage, she kept these monsters from Mercia, she reminded herself. But how much more could she bear?
Norah squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. She would endure as much as she had to.
The doors opened behind her, and she turned to see Mikael. She cursed herself for lingering too long.
“Salara,” he greeted as he neared. “I’m glad I found you here.”
Norah stepped around a large table, putting it between them. She wasn’t so glad. She didn’t reply.
“Talk to me,” he said.
Fine. “Would you have killed those boys?”
He paused. His hesitation answered for him. She knew he wanted to move her past it, but she couldn’t. These weren’t things she could turn a blind eye to.
“I would have released them,” he said. “If you’d asked me to.”
“And if I wasn’t there to ask?”
Mikael walked slowly around the side of the table. “Will you judge the man in front of you, instead of the one in your mind?”
“Because the one in front of me is so much better?” she cut back, moving so the table stayed between them.
Mikael’s brow creased, and then he sighed. “I don’t want things to be like this between us. I do care for you, Salara.”
The fire of her fury died down ever so slightly, but she didn’t want it to die. She told herself she’d change things—she had to change things. And it would start by the lord commander being held accountable. “What will you do about him?” she asked. “What will you do about your commander?”
“I’ve spoken to him.”
“That’s not enough.”
He looked down, and then nodded. “All right.”
She hadn’t expected him to agree. Was he agreeing? “You’ll deal with him?” she asked.
“I will. These things won’t happen again.”
But relief didn’t come. She didn’t entirely believe him.
“Are you on your way out?” he asked.
She looked down at the books in her hand and then toward the door. She knew what he would ask if she said yes.
But he didn’t wait for her reply. “Can I walk you?”
He moved to the end of the table where she stood, and he held his arm for her. He was trying, she told herself. She did want him to try.
And she had to try too, for Mercia.
Slowly, she slipped her arm under his. He put his hand over hers and started them toward her sanctuary. They walked in silence, but there was a calm in his touch, a warmth. It wasn’t the touch of a monster. She felt his eyes on her. Her breaths quickened, but she kept her eyes forward.
When they reached the hall to her sanctuary—the boundary—he stopped, turning and looking down at her. “Will you dine with me tomorrow?” he asked.
He was trying. And she would try. Slowly, she nodded.
“Good night, Salara,” he said softly. Then he released her and left her to the quiet of her sanctuary.
As evening came the following day, Norah arrived in the dining room to find Mikael alone. He stood when she entered. “Salara,” he greeted.
She slowed as she approached the table, looking around. “Where is the lord commander?” He always ate his dinners with the king.
“He won’t be joining us anymore,” he said.
Norah paused in surprise. For the commander to be sent from the king would be a heavy blow to him, but she couldn’t muster any sympathy, and she couldn’t deny the relief of his absence. They both took their seats at opposite ends of the table, and servants set plates of food before them.