“So, tell me, why did you kill my husband?” I asked and he pulled in a light breath.
“Sjofn –” he started but I interrupted him with a wave of my hand.
“It matters not now, Broderick, he is dead. And my father is dead, I assume?” I waited for his careful nod, I took the hit of confirmation of this news and the further hit it took forcing myself not to react and I went on. “But you had different ideas back then, am I wrong?”
“Sjofn, I don’t think –” he began but I interrupted yet again.
And I did this with a soft, “You owe this to me.”
Broderick held my eyes. Then he nodded.
“I thought…” he started then concluded, “exile.”
“And why didn’t you follow through with this thought?” I pressed. “Was it him?” and again I lifted my chin to Phobin.
“He did, I will admit, point out the errors in my thinking.” Suddenly he crouched before me, made as if to reach out for my hand, I pulled back in the chair slightly but not slight enough he didn’t notice. So he gave up, rested his wrists on his knees and kept speaking. “Phobin knew, you know and I also knew but in seeing you so happy, I was denying it, but I knew that The Drakkar would not stay in exile long, no matter what magic or guard or –”
“The adela branch,” I stated, cutting him off again. “You and Phobin, you’ve been collecting sacred relics, articles of power to wield for this endeavor. It isn’t the only thing you had, is it, Broderick?” I guessed a guess that just sprang to my mind.
He smiled a small, actually un-freaking-believably proud smile before he whispered, “Always so clever, my Sjofn.”
“So you have relics, things with magic?” I pushed.
“Indeed,” Broderick replied.
“They would be more powerful if we had the branch,” Phobin muttered, my eyes slid to his angry face and Broderick tilted his head back to look at him. When Broderick did this, he clamped his mouth shut and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
I looked back to Broderick, waited for his eyes to come to me and asked, “You have a witch wielding them?”
“I do,” he answered.
I nodded once then stated, “This makes her very powerful.”
He inclined his head.
Right.
Well then, I’d have to deal with that later and hope to all that was holy Lavinia and Valentine could beat the bitch.
Moving on.
“Then, since you were considering exile, the attack in Houllebec, the poison at the Gales, this was not you?” I enquired.
He shook his head. “The attack in Houllebec was meant to take the life of The Drakkar but you were to be seized and held for ransom then let go. However, the kidnapping would have been a ruse. If this had been successful, it would have meant you were safe with no aspersions cast on us but there would be no imminent heir to the throne until you or your father could find another suitable candidate as husband for you and, in that time, we would have instigated our campaign to unite Lunwyn and Middleland.” At this, his mouth got tight and his eyes slid briefly to Phobin before coming back to me when he went on. “I left that in other’s hands and those chosen for this deed, fortunately for you and The Drakkar, were not very skilled.”
Phobin obviously was behind this maneuver and Phobin obviously f**ked it up.
Broderick studied me with eyes back to soft then said, “This was before I saw the two of you together and considered exile.”
He paused for me to speak but I made no reply.
“The poison,” he continued, “was not me. I have allies, heads of Houses from both Lunwyn and Middleland. Until our current campaign, there was…” he paused then finished, “some disagreement about what to do with you and how to contend with The Drakkar. There were those who felt his influence, if not his power, would be diminished if he was not to sire a child on you, the heir to the throne, and therefore they felt, if you no longer lived, obviously, this would not come about. They also felt you were the easier target. And it is known The Drakkar had no ambitions to the throne and it was believed, if you were out of the way, he would continue with his business and, as was his wont, leave the politics to others. During your betrothal he did not show a great deal of interest in you. It was only after, when it became known he…” he paused again, continuing cautiously, “grew to hold a good deal of affection for you that our plans needed to be reconsidered.”
Grew to hold a good deal of affection for me. A convenient way to put it, the little, scheming, backstabbing piss ant.
I looked over his shoulder as if taking this all in then looked back at him and nodded.
Then I asked, “Do you love him?” and at my question Broderick’s head jerked.