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The telephone chirps again.

Wren closes her eyes.

I look toward the living room.

“Is it the man who bruised your wrist?”

She says nothing.

That is answer enough.

I cross the room and pick up the device.

The words glow across its surface.

You really think you can disappear from me?

For one moment, the world becomes very quiet.

Then the glass in the window begins to vibrate.

A thin crimson glow spreads beneath the skin of my hands.

I read the message again.

A threat.

Not against a kingdom.

Not against an army.

Against Wren.

My Wren, who sings badly while preparing breakfast and fills her home with flowers. Who smiles at strangers and rescues broken things and somehow believes the world is still worth loving after everything it has done to her.

I could find this man.

Even without his name, I could follow the malice in those words to its source.

And when I found him…

“Vidar!”

Wren’s voice cuts through the fury.

I look down.

The telephone has begun to bend in my hand.

I loosen my grip.

A crack runs across its glass.

“Oh, for God’s sake!”

She snatches it away.

“Do you have any idea how much these things cost?”