“Fair enough.” Alden shifts the subject. “What do you know of Gabriel?”
“I don’t understand?”
“What do you know of the man you have married?”
Does Alden seek to trap me by asking about Gabriel?
“I know he’s a commander.” A deep breath escapes me as I think of the last few weeks with Gabriel. He’s not always cold and distant. He’s warm when he wants to be. “He’s kind. He’s empathic.”
Does Alden expect more? Should I gush over my husband?
“Is that all you know?” Alden asks.
“Should I know more?”
Alden stacks his hands together as he speaks. “If you knew him, you would understand my question.”
That’s not fair.
It’s impossible to truly know Gabriel. He’s so elusive. So frustrating.
The Seer’s words to Gabriel echo in my ears. “Trust is as flimsy as a seedling flailing in the breeze. Never reveal what is yours to hold close.”
What does he hold close?
“What else is there to understand?” I ask, desiring to know more.
Alden slides his hands apart, only to stack them together. “He’s fiercely loyal and fiercely devoted. He will slay anyone, condemn anyone, if he believes they will hurt his people.”
“Have I done something wrong?” I cannot help but ask.
Why else would Alden call me here? Is he warning me or threatening me?
“I only want you to know what kind of man you have married.” Alden locks his eyes on the wall behind me. “For his people, he will sever the heartbeat of agitation … and he has.” The chair creaks beneath him as Alden shifts his focus back to me. “It would not be wise to test him.”
“I don’t plan to.”
Alden studies me to the point I squirm and swallow through the ash in my throat. “You look different than I imagined you might.”
He imagined me?
My brow rises. “How did you imagine me?”
He shrugs. “Different.”
A thought occurs to me, so I ask a question of my own—one I hope isn’t too forward. “Are you the chieftain of the Bloodstone people?”
It would make sense, especially since I haven’t been able to discover more about Roland, or Hector for that matter.
Alden lifts his hand to his shoulders and pats. “Do you see a gold livery around my shoulders?”
The livery of office? The one all Tarrobane chieftains wear?
When Roland murdered Mother, he wore the thick, gold chain around his shoulders. In the center hung their pendant. Their serpent.
“No,” I say after a moment.
“Then, I am not the chieftain.”
