a small smile. “It is good to see you again, Lady Yarl.”
“I can honestly say the same, Lord Ci’Dan.” Her mouth eased into a smile of its own, remembering with bittersweet fondness the last time she had seen the man. “And Vhalla is fine.”
“Then I must insist upon the same, just Ophain.” As if sensing her instinct to object, the lord continued, rendering the matter no longer up for discussion, “What a sight you are. You wear the clothes of my people, speak our tongue with adept pronunciation.” He appraised her thoughtfully. “And you are adorned in the mark of my nephew, despite what I hear of his engagement to a Northern bride.”
“I’d like to speak with you.” Vhalla tried to remain focused despite her hand seeking out the watch instinctually at its mention. It must have ended up above her scarf while she was playing with it as she waited.
“I surmised as much.” The lord nodded.
The door opened, and a servant hurriedly delivered a tray of food and the black tea Westerners preferred, served over ice.
Vhalla took the time to compose herself, swearing she was not going to be lost in the intense familiarity of the lord’s endlessly black eyes. “I suppose I should apologize for not arranging time with you in advance.”
“You are one who is always welcome in my presence.” The lord gave her a tired smile that spoke volumes as he motioned at one of the chairs positioned around the table where the food and drink sat.
Taking the offered seat, Vhalla pulled the scarf off her head and became distracted once more with the roses.
“They weren’t always so popular.” Lord Ophain followed her attention out to the garden. “My sister loved them, and she became known for it. Their color, combined with the princess’s favor, made them synonymous with Mhashan.”
“Princess Fiera?” Vhalla asked, making the easy assumption that he wasn’t talking about his two living sisters.
He hummed in affirmation. “Her garden in Norin is one of the most beautiful in the world.”
“It’s why Aldrik has a rose garden, isn’t it?” Vhalla mused softly.
“It is.” She hadn’t been expecting an answer, but Lord Ophain gave her one, and then some. “The Emperor built it for his wife as a welcome present for when she moved to the South, though she never got to see it.”
Vhalla turned her attention inside, meeting the lord’s gaze. “I have some questions for you.”
“And I have questions for you, as well.” Lord Ophain helped himself to some of the tea sweating heavily in the midday heat.
She shifted in her seat. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might be curious also. The military host had yet to return from the warfront, and whatever information he possessed must be relegated to delayed letters and reports from soldiers returning home. None of them would know what she knew.
“I’d like to go first,” she said hastily. If the lord asked her a question she didn’t want to answer, Vhalla wanted to leave this visit with at least getting one inquiry answered.
“I have no intent to rush this meeting.” Ophain motioned for her to continue.
Vhalla chewed on her bottom lip, thinking about the most elegant approach to her question. She knew Aldrik had learned from Lord Ophain, which meant the man was well versed in avoiding giving answers he didn’t want to give. And, unlike Aldrik, she couldn’t just demand he tell her the full truth of everything she wanted to know.
“Is the Sword of Jadar real?” Vhalla finally decided on. It was the one thing she couldn’t find conclusive evidence of in any manuscript. And, if the legends were to be believed, there would be no way he could answer her without mention of the Knights.
Lord Ophain leaned back in his chair, an appreciative grin teasing at the corners of his mouth. “You want to know about the Knights.”
It wasn’t phrased as a question, and Vhalla did not hide her intentions, she gave a definitive nod. “And the sword.”
“What makes you think I know about them?”
“Aldrik told me you would.” Their words were like a dance of rapiers. Sharp, pointed, elegant, and prepared to cut to bone.
“What happened between you and my nephew?”
Vhalla knew the question would come, but she couldn’t keep in the heavy sigh. “Tell me first: is the sword real?”
“It is,” the lord finally relented.
Her world stilled. That was an answer she hadn’t been expecting. “Do the Knights have it?”
“Perhaps,” Lord Ophain answered vaguely and continued before she could persist. “You and