Father.” They clinked glasses and Killian drained the contents of his, setting it on the floor in favor of putting on his shirt.
“Speaking of estates, Seldrid was in a frenzy over your recent purchase. That was quite a large sum of coin, Killian. And all to piss off Helene Torrington.”
Killian ground his teeth, waiting for the inevitable reprimand.
“I told Sel to let it slide—it isn’t as though this is a habit of yours. But”—Hacken paused, bending over to refill Killian’s glass—“I’d ask that you ease off on baiting Helene. I realize she’s a loathsome girl, but she’s also Torrington’s heir, and I’d rather not have to deal with a feud between our houses because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”
“Noted.”
“Good. Now where is it?”
Shit.
Finished with his buttons, Killian picked up his glass and took a sip. “Where’s what?”
“Gods, but you’re bloody annoying. The ring.”
“In one of my pockets, probably.” A lie, because he knew exactly where it was—on a chain hanging around Lydia’s neck. Where it would remain.
“You haven’t done something stupid like giving it away?”
“Now to whom would I have given something like that?” Knowing Hacken was after more than just a bauble, Killian made his way onto the balcony, hoping the shrieks of the deimos over the city would throw his older brother off his game. Sitting on the balustrade, he watched with amusement as Hacken paused in the doorway, eyes shifting skyward.
“Can they land here?”
“Easily. And they have it in for me, so they might well try.” Killian eyed the sky. “They’re no fan of fire, so we’ll have a few dozen torches burning to ward them off the night of the party. Keep them from trying to eat Malahi’s guests.”
Hacken muttered a few choice curses, then strode onto the balcony. “I’ll recompense you for the ring; just give it to me.”
“What do you want it for?”
Silence.
“Let me be blunt,” Hacken said, his eyes still on the sky as he spoke. “I want that ring as part of my proposal to Malahi.”
Killian choked on his mouthful of whiskey. “What?”
“Don’t act the fool. You know that this is ultimately about marriage.” Hacken topped up his glass. “You know why all the High Lords are risking coming to Mudaire. Serrick will be Mudamora’s downfall, but trust me when I say that there is no consensus on which house should take the crown. And to start a civil war over the throne when we’re in the midst of one would be as damning as leaving the crown on Serrick’s head. So we’ll make Malahi our puppet queen and then orchestrate the shift of power to one of the other houses after you win this war for us.”
“After I win it.” As if beating back the Derin army were going to be the easiest of all the obstacles facing them.
“Yes. That is Malahi’s plan, isn’t it? Dareena at the head of the Royal Army would be the safer bet—she’s got a decade of experience on you and an intact reputation—but having the High Lady of House Falorn save our necks does not send quite the right message for a Rowenes girl with her eye on the crown. Whereas her sworn sword defeating Rufina and her Seventh-cursed army makes Malahi look good.”
“She doesn’t care about such things.”
Hacken gave him a pitying look. “Malahi cares, and that’s not a bad thing. Shows foresight, which is an important quality in a queen.”
“Especially one you are of a mind to marry.”
Hacken spread his arms. “You have to know that the choice of who Malahi will wed is purely political. Queens don’t wed for sentiment.”
That wasn’t what bothered Killian. It was that Malahi deserved a hundred times better than a reptile like his brother.
“You look upset.”
There was a faint gleam in Hacken’s eye, one Killian had learned a long time ago meant that his brother was taking pleasure from his distress.
Laughing, Killian drained his cup. “You mistake the source of my suffering, Hacken. I know Malahi’s plans, and I know what part I play in them. What troubles me is that you want to propose using a ring that Malahi watched me purchase.” Sliding off the balustrade, he slapped Hacken on the shoulder. “This, Brother, is why despite all your wealth and all your power and all your good looks, you never get the girl. And that makes me feel badly for you.”
“Give me the ring, Killian. It’s not a request.”
Walking backward to the doors leading inside, Killian held up his hands. “If you can find