Page 110 of Ashborne Forged

I could only pray that I’d assessed the landscape correctly.

The fact that I’d dismissed the code at first wasn’t a lie. I knew my mother was at the center of a vast web. It was entirely possible someone under her had used those terms, thinking themselves clever.

But after forcing myself to assess the line of coincidences that brought me to the door of this house tonight, I didn’t believe that was the case.

“Does our queen know that you’re betraying her while she works so tirelessly to improve the lot of women in this kingdom? Forgive me—betraying her again? I don’t care, of course.” I flapped my free hand as if to shoo away a fly. “They all believe I was squeezed from the loins of a prostitute. It’s really not far from the truth when you think about—”

She moved like a whip-crack, in that eerie way she had that scuttled the eye. One moment she leaned against the desk, the next, eyes black, she was at my toes and her hand applied to my cheek so hard the sound rang in the rafters.

36. Welcome Home

~ VOSKI ~

I froze, but not before my reflexive jerk spilled a few drops of my scotch onto the thigh of my trousers.

I hesitated, only a moment, then brushed the alcohol off, my lips tight.

Mother returned to lean against the desk once more, as if she hadn’t just assaulted me—and I hadn’t just insulted her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she murmured calmly.

“Of course you don’t,” I sighed, still brushing at my trousers. “Which is why you wouldn’t care in the slightest if I were to share with the queen what I know about the codes and their application… the blood vows… the web you’ve woven. I don’t know how she feels about witches, but hopefully she has enough coin in the coffers to carry her and the kingdom through winter and doesn’t feel the need to appropriate yours.”

There was a small bowl of fruit at the corner of the desk. She picked one of the grapes from a bunch with her long nails, then let me watch her squeeze it between her teeth until it exploded.

“You’re just like your father.”

“I dearly hope not.”

She laughed, then popped up from the desk, still chewing the fruit, and turned her back on me to walk to the window.

There was a moment, a breath, in which I saw myself throw the knife. I could hit her with precision from this distance.

Hell, if I was quiet, I could fist the damn thing and plunge it into the back of her neck, right at the base of her skull where—

“An interesting night,” she said casually, leaving her back turned to prove her disdain. “My son, who disappeared over seven years ago and has never so much as sent a request for money, suddenly returns, haggard and travel weary—though very handsome!—because he’s in love and requires my assistance to save the life of the precious innocent he deflowered?”

“Actually, I’m saving the life of my heir. Which would also make him yours, I suppose. We can’t know, of course, but a boy does seem likely, what with all your blessings.”

I smiled as my mother went very still. I breathed a little easier, seeing her catch herself.

It was the one power I’d always held over her. I was her only child by blood—and blood was very important to my mother. My offspring would be her grandchildren, and in her mind, her greatest triumph.

Which was precisely why I didn’t want to have any. At least, not while she lived.

She turned with a flounce to face me, her arms folded under her breasts, chin high, staring me straight in the eye.

I stared right back.

One could never break with Mother, or she’d know she’d won.

“She’s definitely pregnant?”

“She was. The way that asshole handled her, she might not be much longer—another reason I move with haste.”

“Is she a true noble? Or just a limp flower with an old name?”

“Her parents are received at Court—as is her betrothed, who’s a familiar of the king, apparently. Though I didn’t see him at the Festival of Lights, so it’s possible he’s exaggerated his intimacy. But he certainly acted boldly, entering Vosgaarde without warning, to retrieve her.”

“Why was she there?”