“Arvid has admitted to his part in Ardens’ plot to abduct your pet,” my father told me.
“Yes, Valen approached me some weeks ago with a proposition. He would remove Oskar from the board with my help. With Oskar gone, the next in line of House Halvorsen would be my younger cousin Orion, but… Well, I’m sure you are aware that Orion is not fit to lead House Halvorsen. Without Oskar, truly, the title will fall to me. All I had to do was help sway Oskar to Valen’s desires. It was almost effortless. Valen needed Oskar to be responsible in your eyes for the death of your pet. He talked at length about how you would certainly kill Oskar on sight, once you knew what he had done, and with the alliance of House Halvorsen and Ardens, he believed that he could take the Kingdom.” Arvid laughed. “I never wanted to be part of any war; I thought it ludicrous that Valen would believe that House Halvorsen would help him wage war against Borealis and her allies. I am not suicidal. But I did desire Oskar’s death and for my own hands to be clean. Yet, here I am, Oskar still very much alive. I do not want my cousin to return home. And I am sure that you do not want a war on two fronts.”
Arvid seemed to be an opportunist, overlooked by his house to their detriment and another that I would punish, in time, for trying to take Percy from me. House Halvorsen was beyond arrogant. Walking into my home and admitting their crime, and expecting to walk out again unharmed, better for it even?
“And how are you to stop a war? Even with Oskar’s death, his father currently holds power,” I asked.
“I am good at getting what I want from people. It was child’s play to manipulate Oskar into fear of your pet. All I did was casually ask if he was not embarrassed to be made a cuckold of. Orion did the rest. Poor sod; he’s a bit special, as my mother says: wind him up and watch him go. One afternoon of jokes at his brother’s expense, followed by the reaction given by Oskar, and Orion had found his new favourite pastime. Oskar’s ego is fragile, and all know to avoid his sensitive nature, all except from Orion.
“When Valen approached Oskar, he was eager to agree to anything that got rid of your pet. Before I left, I spoke with my uncle, at great length, suggesting that House Ardens had manipulated Oskar to their desire. That Ardens wanted to use our strength for their own gain. Currently, at home, we await the arrival of The Marquess of Ardens. We will take him prisoner. My uncle will wish to use him as a bargaining tool for his son's safe return and pardon. I am here with my own request that you kill Oskar.
“In return, Valen will be killed while a prisoner of house Halvorsen. My uncle will have nothing to bargain with and Ardens will fall into chaos with no named heir. My House will have no choice but to move on from Oskar’s death without retribution. My uncle knows that he could not win a war, not one that would end having been worth winning, against Borealis. When the time comes, I will inherit my uncle's title and be free to lead my House as I see fit.”
“And what of my pet?” I questioned.
“Avoiding war is my main concern, Selene. Arvid wishes to make an agreement that keeps the kingdom intact, that avoids the senseless loss of life of our people, and takes care of our enemies,” my father answered, and I was displeased with the anger in his voice as he spoke to me.
“We have differing priorities, Father,” I told him.
“I am sure that when House Ardens are left without a clear heir, their last thought will be in concern of your pet. Why, you could probably walk into House Ardens at that time and take her back yourself,” Arvid suggested pleasantly. He did not know that Percy was being kept in House Vouna. Why would he care? My pet was simply a game piece to him.
“Yes, I’m sure you are correct,” I answered. “Father, I am happy with the arrangement, so long as you can promise me, Arvid, that Valen’s death will not be quick or easy,” I said.
“How does poison sound?” he asked, smiling knowingly.
“Like justice,” I replied.
25. It’s a Good Thing You Can Swim
Persephone Flores
Remy ushered me out of the house via the front door and I noticed Peter handing him a shotgun with a stiff nod. Remy accepted and slung the weapon over his shoulder. Des didn’t come to the door to watch us go. The woman seemed almost despondent as we stood up to leave, but I could see that fear kept her seated. She must have been terrified and as I watched the silent looks between Peter and Remy, I was scared too. Remy was too calm for a man that had learned of his wife’s murder. It seemed to me like he had a plan, a plan I wasn’t part of.
“Come on, flower girl,” he said, a hand on my shoulder and leading me down the path to the gate. “We’ll have to go through the village; it’s the quickest way to river Vouna.”
“What about Vouna guards in the village?” I asked nervously.
He lifted his hand, still at my shoulder, and patted me reassuringly.
“If we see anyone, stay quiet and let me do the talking. We’ll be golden.”
I nodded, not feeling very reassured. He wasn’t confident as such, more resigned.
I did my best to control my nervous energy, that made my legs twitch with the urge to run. I wanted to run away. It was silly, Remy knew where he was going, but the closer we got to the village and the smell of smoke entered my nose, I wanted to run far, far away.
“Remember, let me do the talking,” he said as we entered the village walking between houses.
We walked along wide streets with small houses; I thought I noticed curtains peeking open as we passed but it could have been my imagination.
As we walked, voices grew clearer; they were rowdy, loud and confident. We turned onto a new street and I almost faltered in my steps as I saw the dark grey uniform of the armed Vouna guards.
“Ain’t nothing to worry about,” Remy whispered as we walked. “Eyes ahead; we’re walking with purpose.”
The Vouna guards were seated outside a small pub on wooden benches, large jugs of pale, frothy drinks by them. They paid us no attention and I began to breathe again until I was stopped by a warm hand gripping my wrist.
“Hey, what do we have here?” A man asked me.
“I would appreciate you removing your hand from my daughter,” Remy said forcefully, beside me. I turned to look up at him, frightened.