I try not to let my surprise show. The Court of Termites, led by Lord Roiben, was helpful in getting Cardan onto the throne. And for their efforts I promised that when Lord Roiben asked me for a favor, I’d do it. But I have no idea what he might want, and now isn’t a good time for another complication.
Randalin clears his throat and turns, giving me a pointed look. “Convey our regrets to the High King that we were unable to advise him directly, and let him know we stand ready to come to his aid. If you fail to impress this upon him, we will find other means of doing so.”
I make a short bow and no reply to what is clearly a threat.
As I leave, Madoc falls into step alongside me.
“I understand you’ve spoken with your sister,” he says, thick eyebrows lowered in at least a mimicry of concern.
I shrug, reminding myself that he didn’t speak a word on my behalf today.
He gives me an impatient look. “Don’t tell me how busy you are with that boy king, though I imagine he takes some looking after.”
Somehow, in just a few words, he has turned me into a sullen daughter and himself into her long-suffering father.
I sigh, defeated. “I’ve spoken with Taryn.”
“Good,” he says. “You’re too much alone.”
“Don’t pretend at solicitude,” I say. “It insults us both.”
“You don’t believe that I could care about you, even after you betrayed me?” He watches me with his cat eyes. “I’m still your father.”
“You’re my father’s murderer,” I blurt out.
“I can be both,” Madoc says, smiling, showing those teeth.
I tried to rattle him, but I succeeded only in rattling myself. Despite the passage of months, the memory of his final aborted lunge once he realized he was poisoned is fresh in my mind. I remember his looking as though he would have liked to cleave me in half. “Which is why neither of us should pretend you’re not furious with me.”
“Oh, I’m angry, daughter, but I am also curious.” He makes a dismissive gesture toward the Palace of Elfhame. “Is this really what you wanted? Him?”
As with Taryn, I choke on the explanation I cannot give.
When I do not speak, he comes to his own conclusions. “As I thought. I didn’t appreciate you properly. I dismissed your desire for knighthood. I dismissed your capacity for strategy, for strength—and for cruelty. That was my mistake, and one I will not make again.”
I am not sure if that’s a threat or an apology.
“Cardan is the High King now, and so long as he wears the Blood Crown, I am sworn to serve him,” he says. “But no oath binds you. If you regret your move, make another. There are games yet to play.”