Page 54 of Throne of Ice and Blood
I lower myself to the floor so that I’m sitting on my knees next to his chair, just like he said.
He locks hard eyes on Galen again. “Watch her.”
“Don’t you—” Galen begins retorting, but Draven grabs the collar of his shirt and yanks him halfway up from his seat.
“I’m about to murder someone,” Draven growls in his face. “And unless you want that to be you, you watch her until I get back.”
Galen’s violet eyes are wide with what looks like genuine shock as he stares up at his commander. Then he quickly jerks his chin down in a nod.
Draven just releases his collar, shoving him back down in his seat, and stalks away without another word. His clan members watch him go with a mix of surprise and disdain on their faces.
Part of me is furious that Draven is the one who gets to storm out and be angry and then gather his composure before coming back inside. I’m the one who just crawled across the floor and licked someone’s boots in front of an entire banquet hall, for Mabona’s sake!
But the other part of me can barely believe my luck. Draven has left me unsupervised with his people, who hate him. Which means that I finally have a chance to get the information I need for the heist.
“Sorry you had to go through that,” Lyra says from my left, her voice full of empathy. Then it disappears, and rage takes itsplace instead as she glances towards where Alistair and Isera are kneeling. “This whole thing is so fucked up.”
“Yeah.” I blow out a long sigh, trying to gather my wits and choose my words very carefully. “I almost escaped, you know. The first day when I woke up, I made it all the way to…” Scrunching up my eyebrows, I pretend to think hard. “I don’t remember which floor it was, but it was close to where the treasury is.”
“The third floor?” the redhead next to Lyra fills in.
Victory pulses through me. The third floor. The treasury is on the third floor. My heart pounds in my chest. Now, I just need one more thing.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” I reply while desperately trying to figure out how to get them to tell mewhereon the third floor it is.
Lyra furrows her brows. “How did you even get there? The northeast stairwell is like one of the most well-guarded stairwells in the entire castle.”
I almost let out a whoop. For once in my life, I appear to have luck on my side. While sending a heartfelt prayer of thanks to Mabona for what must have been her divine intervention, I suppress the victorious grin that threatens to spread across my mouth.
The treasury is somewhere in the northeast corner on the third floor. Now, I can finally begin plotting out a route for the human resistance to use during their heist.
“Oh, it might not have been that then,” I reply, letting some uncertainty into my voice. “I just assumed it was since that’s where the Master of the Treasury was.”
Lyra raises her eyebrows. “You met the Master of the Treasury?”
“Not exactly.” I grimace. “I tripped over his corpse.”
“Oh, right. That was the day when the Red Hand killed all three of those people.”
I glance from her to Galen, who hasn’t said a word since Draven left. He was tasked with watching me, but his violet eyes are still locked on the side door that Draven stalked out of. Candlelight from the silver holders on the table flickers across his features. It’s difficult to read the expression on his face, but he almost looks… sad.
“What even is the deal with Draven and the Red Hand anyway?” I ask. “He seems almost obsessed with him.”
At that, Galen finally tears his gaze from the door and turns his head to look at me. The sadness is gone from his features. Instead, only contempt shines in his eyes.
“It’s because of his bloody ego,” he huffs.
“Keep it down,” a dark-haired male shifter hisses from farther down the table. He casts a worried glance towards the door that Draven left through. “He could come back any second.”
“What do you meanhis ego?” I ask before Galen can take that advice. Because I desperately want to know more about Draven’s history with the Red Hand.
After casting a glance towards the door, which is still closed, Galen meets my eyes again. “Draven has always won. He has always completed every mission he has been given. Crush that rebellion. Bring that clan to heel. Burn that city. Conquer that castle. Assassinate that person. Healwayssucceeds.” Smug amusement flits across his face for a second. “But not with this guy. The Red Hand is the only one who has ever gotten away. The only one who has ever outsmarted him.”
“And his pride won’t allow that,” Lyra fills in from across the table. She spins her fork in her hand before stabbing it into the piece of steak on her plate. “It’s a threat to his power. Makes himlook weak. That’s why he’s so obsessed with personally hunting down the Red Hand.”
“Exactly,” Galen picks up. That smug smile on his face widens a little. “But I, for one, applaud the Red Hand for the sheer size of his balls, defying the Icehearts like this.”
Lyra flicks a glance towards the side door. “Something I wish our not-so-fearless leader had more of too.”
