His hands were starting to go numb. Grim clenched them, trying to move warm blood into them but it was no use, the night was too cold and the finery he wore did little to keep the wind at bay. He was about to resign himself to going back inside to the party when the front door opened. Gabriel appeared in the doorway and when the man saw Grim he walked outside, shutting the door behind him. Grim waited on the edge of the fountain while Gabriel approached.

The man rubbed his hands together. “You still cooling off out here? By now I expect you’re more frozen than relaxed.”

Grim shrugged. “When you’ve lived here long enough you get used to the cold.”

“I know. I’ve lived in the Rills my whole life.” Grim blinked in surprise but he supposed Gabriel was probably only a few years older than Ilyena. The man continued speaking. “I wanted to apologize on behalf of Harren because I know he doesn’t understand the concept. What he said- It was a bit of a low blow.”

“Why are you apologizing on his behalf?”

“Because we are unfortunately relatives, though fortunately distant,” he said, “However, his actions still reflect on my family name.” He paused. “Excuse me, I just realized I didn’t properly introduce myself.” He extended a hand. “Barronet Gabriel of the West Flows.”

Grim stared at the proffered arm for a moment before standing and clasping it. “Grim Thorne.”

The man grinned. “Excellent. Now could I interest you in a drink?”

Grim was tempted to tell him to piss off but this southerner seemed better than the rest. If he had to be with the worst of humanity he may as well be with the best of the worst. “Alright. I never turn down a drink.”

The noble gestured to the door. “Shall we?”

Grim nodded and led the way back inside the mansion, emerging back into the chaotic frenzy of finery. The dancing had begun in earnest. Some nobles moved with grace and dignity while others drunkenly stumbled through the steps while laughing in delight. It seemed Longreen knew how to throw a party. Grim and Gabriel walked around the frenzied dancers to the table where the wine was being served. Ilyena, Carys and Harren were already there. The two girls watched the man with vacant expressions while he talked.

Gabriel walked a wide arc around them and sidled up to the table as far from them as possible. He grabbed two full glasses of wine from the table and passed one to Grim. He raised his glass. “To bastards and Bleakridge. Long may they both live.”

Grim rolled his eyes and together they drank. Grim examined the wine glass, absently wondering if the man had poisoned him. “Why?”

Gabriel cocked his head. “Why?”

“I think you can appreciate that being asked to drink by one of your kind is unusual for me.”

“My kind?”

Grim raised an eyebrow. “You know, southerners.”

“I told you I’ve lived here my whole life. I’m as Rillish as you are. Never even seen Venar. If you insist on forgetting that, I may have to take offense.”

That made Grim feel uneasy and a more than a little old. “I- sorry. But my original question still stands.”

Gabriel shrugged and took another drink. “Us Barringtons are the largest landholders in the Rills and Harren is going to be my family’s next patriarch. The list of people who don’t have their nose firmly lodged in my cousin’s bunghole extends to you, your sister and Carys. That makes you one of the few people I can stand talking to while he’s around.”

He glanced to where Harren still talked at Ilyena and Carys. “And if you actually want to get any talking done, it’s best to be far from him.”

Grim grimaced. “When I was a kid I used to have to play with him when his father visited. Asshole always wanted to play Rill rats and Regulars. You can probably guess which I had to be.”

Gabriel nodded his sympathies. “Yes, he’s certainly not the most openminded chap. Nor the brightest.”

“Not the brightest?”

Gabriel cocked his head. “I suppose you haven’t had to watch him at every single party. It’s embarrassing, really. The man is dead set on courting Carys. Follows her like a damned puppy while it’s painfully obvious that neither she nor her father have any real interest in him. In terms of title, he is to her, what a house cat is to a lion. Probably hopes she’ll kiss him and turn him into a prince.”

Grim raised an eyebrow. “A prince? I thought the Marshal was some kind of general.” He shrugged. “Can’t say I know a lot about the royal court.”

“Wish I could say the same. My tutor made me recite the name of every member and their position in alphabetical order when I was a boy,” he said, “Of course, half them are dead now that that information has any relevance to me.” He shook his head. “There’s two Marshals at a time, the right and left hands of the king. They speak with his voice wherever he is not. The fact that Longreen is with us, way out here, suggests that he’s the hand the king wipes his ass with.”

Grim chuckled. He liked that image. “How does the Earl measure up next to the Marshal?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Technically the Marshal is of higher standing. But he’s in the Earl’s home, so to speak. In another subjugated kingdom, they would be near equals. But your family was never royal, was it?”

Grim shook his head and took a drink of wine. “Thornes were never elected kings and the line of the last one died in the war. So did the clan chiefs. Hell, we weren’t even noble until after the war was done.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Do tell more. I’ve never heard this from a Thorne before. I’d like your take.”

“My family’s history is not really a subject for polite conversation.”

Gabriel raised his glass. “Well then, to the basest of language and most brutish of tongues.”

Grim rolled his eyes and drank to the toast. He eyed the dancers on the floor. They moved together like vibrant grass swaying in the breeze. His black attire made him feel like a stain on the whole affair. He took another drink and glanced back to Gabriel. “House Thorne leads the Briar Guard.” Grim sighed. That used to mean a lot more. "We served as Justicars for the clans, not just in trials over crimes, but over issues that would have fractured the clans. Our order stopped wars before they began.”

Gabriel cocked his head. “And people would just accept the outcome? That- seems unlike people.”

Grim leaned against the table behind him. “If they didn’t, they’d also face us in the field. Sometimes the will of the Reaper needs to be enforced. Half the guard used to be God-touched by the Reaper. Reavers, your people call them. Not the kind of people you want to fight. I think you know what happened to them after the war.”

Gabriel nodded, looking like he'd swallowed something sour. “Yes.”

Grim stared at the young man. He actually seemed regretful. Grim put a hand on his shoulder. “it was before your time.” Divines, now he really felt old.

Gabriel didn’t answer, his eyes drifting into the crowd. “I think your sister wants you.” The corners of his lips curled upward.

Grim followed his gaze to Ilyena who stared at him with wide eyes. She flicked her gaze between him and Harren, who was still talking. Grim considered leaving her trapped in conversation but Father had told him to follow her instructions. He sighed and turned back to Gabriel. “So, if you had to get rid of Harren how would you do it?”

“With a club in a back alley.”

Grim snorted. “Seriously.”

Gabriel grinned and clapped Grim on the shoulder. “Tell you what. I’ll take care of him if you put in a good word for me with your sister.”

Grim’s eyebrows raised. “Believe me, you might do better without.”

Gabriel shrugged. “At the very least I can dashingly save her from the clutches of my eeevil cousin. That has to be worth a few brownie points, right?”

Grim rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever kid. Let’s go.”

Grim led Gabriel through the crowd of green, using his size to bull through the southerners. Annoyed looks followed in his wake but Grim ignored them. He could hear Gabriel’s periodic apologies behind him. Harren stopped speaking when he saw Grim approach. The girls looked dead in the eyes. but a brief spark of hope lit at his entrance.

Grim nodded to the man. “Harren.”

“Bastard. Did you come back for another verbal lashing?

Grim didn’t answer, just crossing his arms and waiting for Gabriel. The young man walked up to Harren and put a hand on the noble’s shoulder. “Your father’s looking for you. Said it was important.”

Harren looked annoyed. “What does he want?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Something about your brother. You know he doesn’t tell me anything.”

Harren sighed. “Fine. Let’s get out of the crowd then you can take me to him,” he said, walking through the throng of people. Gabriel followed in his wake but turned on his heel and bowed to Grim and the girls with a mischievous grin on his face.

Grim grinned in return. “I like him.”

Ilyena snorted. “You would.” Grim noted her eyes following Gabriel as he walked away and fought the urge to chuckle.

Carys spoke up. “If I had to listen to him talk about another horse race he won, I think I may have puked. Good thing his father needed him.”

“That may have been less than true,” Grim said.

Carys cocked her head. “Then I suppose I owe Gabriel a word of thanks. Let’s go upstairs before he figures out.” She began to walk through the crowd.

Grim moved to follow her but Ilyena put a hand on his chest and grabbed a flagon of wine from the table, placing it in his hand. “Distract her for me.” She turned and followed Carys toward the stairs.

Grim looked down at the wine in his hands, pursed his lips and shook his head. She was going to get him killed. Once they made it to the stairs, the crowd abruptly disappeared, replaced with a line of stern-faced guards. As Carys approached, they parted to let her pass. Grim could feel their eyes on him but they let him through behind her.

Grim stumbled as he climbed up the stairs, sloshing wine onto the stairs. The red liquid ran down the marble stairs and he cursed his drunkenness. He should’ve taken it easy earlier. He finished the glass he still carried and abandoned it on the marble rail at the top of the stairs.

Carys led then down the now familiar halls. Gold leaf shined in the torchlight and the wooden floors gleamed with an unnatural shine. The eyes of paintings seemed to follow him with dead eyes as his boots creaked against the floorboards.

They arrived at a door and Carys twisted the strange knob. A click sounded, and she opened the door. Grim walked into the room. It much resembled Ilyena’s quarters at Bleakridge. The hardwood floor gave way to the soft carpet of the foyer. A low fire was burning in the hearth, casting a soft glow over the sitting chairs ringing the flames. Beyond the hearth, a hallway leading to a half-dozen more doors.

Carys took a seat in one of the chairs, running a hand through her hair and sighing. “Do you think I made a sufficient appearance tonight?”

Ilyena took a seat across from her and crossed her legs. “You were seen by your father being seen by others. You’ve accomplished your daughterly duties for the evening.”

Grim set the jug of wine on a small table next to Carys. “You have any glasses in here?” he asked. Carys nodded toward a small glass cabinet. “In there. They’re meant more for decoration than drinking so they may be a little dusty on the inside. If you’re pouring, make it two.”

Ilyena raised a hand. “Make it three.”

Grim nodded and fetched the glasses from the cabinet while the girls began to talk. “What do you think our fathers are talking about tonight?” Ilyena asked. Grim pulled the glasses from the cabinet, hooking his fingers between their stems. The crystal sparkled in the firelight, but they were indeed a little dusty.

Carys shrugged. “I’m sure they’re fighting about something. Last time it was drafting Grim, this time it’s probably something to do with the Sons. I hear they’ve been getting out of control.”

Ilyena looked to Grim while he wiped the dust out with the hem of his jacket. “Grim took an arrow to the chest today.”

Carys’s eyes widened. “You’re joking.” She looked to Grim as he walked back to the chairs.

Grim set the glasses down on the small table beside her and poured wine into one. He handed it to Carys. “Surprised me more than anything. My armor-”

“Surprised?” Ilyena interjected. “From the look on your face, I thought you soiled yourself when you hit the floor.”

Grim narrowed his eyes at her. He may have peed a little bit, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Carys patted him on the arm. “I’m sure you acquitted yourself very nobly from your backside.”

The girls laughed at his expense while Grim pursed his lips, pouring the last two glasses. He brought one to Ilyena as they calmed down, resisting the urge to upend it on her.

She plucked it from his hand with a smile. “But seriously Grim, I’m glad you were okay.”

Carys raised her glass. “To Grim’s health, long may he sulk.”

Ilyena grinned and raised her glass. “Cheers.”

Grim sulked over to a chair by Carys, drinking with them out of politeness. He fought the urge to glare at them. He didn’t sulk.

Carys leaned back in her chair. “So, Gabriel?”

Ilyena blushed. Grim blinked in astonishment. Carys raised an eyebrow. “Ilyena Thorne, actually blushing over a boy? The girl who once told me men are like puppets on strings of emotion?”

“The opinions of most men shift with my every word to what they think I’d like to hear. I’m not saying he’s special, but he is interesting.”

Grim snorted. “You did seem awfully interested in his backside earlier.”

Carys smirked over her wineglass. “Can hardly blame her.” Grim choked on his wine. She turned to face him. “What do you think of him Grim? Good enough for your sister?”

He affected a mocking tone. “Nobody is good enough for daddy’s little angel.”

Ilyena, rolled her eyes. “What I’d give to see you call our father daddy.”

Grim grinned. “Give me a few more drinks and you might get your chance on the ride home.”

“Give you a few more drinks and you’ll be praying to the privy pipes.” She rose to her feet. “Speaking of which, would you both please excuse me a minute?”

Carys’s smile faltered. “Of course.”

Grim nodded. “Hurry back,” he said with a pointed look.

Ilyena shot him a quick wink as she passed. As the door shut behind them a silence descended over the room. Grim supposed this was what his sister meant when she said to distract her. Grim cursed under his breath. He turned to look at the girl beside him. Carys watched her hands, twisting them in her lap. She looked up and met his eyes.

Over the years, Grim had found the best way to make a woman like you was to talk to her as though she were a human. A concept many men failed to grasp. “How are you?”

She blinked as if taken aback. “I’m fine I suppose.” She cocked her head at him. “Why do you ask?”

Grim shrugged. “You seemed relieved to escape your friends-”

She cut him off. “A woman in my position doesn’t have friends, only people who want something. A good word to my father, marriage, status.”

“The pleasure of your company,” Grim added with a smile.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Please. We both know why you’re here.”

“And why’s that?”

Carys hesitated, taking a drink from her glass. She sighed, then spoke. “To keep me occupied while Ilyena does whatever it is she does when she disappears.”

Grim’s heart skipped a beat. “Likely falling on her face in the hall, if her empty glass is any indication.”

Carys snorted and took a drink from her glass. “Don’t take me for a fool. I’m sure she suspects I suspect something, but we’ve never brought it up.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to face the fact that my best friend is using me as a means to an end. And I don’t want to lose that friend. Sometimes it is better to live a lie than face the hard truth. Something you seem very familiar with.”

Grim’s face hardened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She stared at him. Grim met her gaze. After twenty-six years of dealing with his father, it was trivial. “Why do you always do what you’re told?” she asked.

Grim blinked. That was the last thing he expected. “I rarely do.”

Carys snorted. “Harren already mentioned the prime example of you doing what you’re told. Then, when you’re just about to make this party interesting, your sister tells you to stop and you do. Your little sister.”

Grim glared at her. “Are your trying to piss me off?”

Carys shrugged and leaned back in her chair “You have so much freedom and you put yourself in a box of other people’s expectations. It’s pitiful.” She drank from her goblet.

Grim raised an eyebrow. “That box is often all that’s keeping me alive. Don’t dismiss it so casually. I have done things I regret but at least I’m here to regret them.”

Carys absently swirled her goblet, not even looking at him. “Maybe you’re right, but giving Harren a black eye wouldn’t be the end of you.”

“Then maybe you should if you want it so bad.”

“That would be the end of me.” She looked to him. “I’m sure you saw the iron fence around the garden?” Grim nodded. “I’ve been past that fence twice in the twelve years I’ve lived here. My box is much more literal than yours. If I embarrassed my father at a public gathering I wouldn’t be seen at another.” She shook her head. “I can’t even escape this blasted city through marriage because nobody is suitable this far north.”

She drank. “The lie I live is that I have someone in the world who is my friend without strings. The lie you live is that you don’t control your fate.”

“I’m a bastard. I lost all control the day I received this.” He pointed to the X shaped scar on his neck.

“Another excuse. The tool of a coward.”

Grim’s blood ran hot. She really knew how to get under his skin. He kept his tone level. “Not an excuse, a fact of life. Your people take everything I love and twist it into something unrecognizable. Because of you, I’ve had to fight for my life more times than I care to count.”

She fiddled with one of her nails, picking at the green lacquer. “When boys are scared, they run and hide, or they fall in line. Then they tell themselves they had no choice and have the nerve to call themselves men. For all your talk against my father’s work, you failed to notice that it worked. You’re too scared to step out of line.”

“The same could be said of you.”

She nodded. “We sit in a room full of hypocrites.”

Grim grimaced. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because your brooding irks me, and I find myself looking forward to something new to talk about.”

Grim stared into his empty wine glass and set it onto the table next to him. When I was a child my father told me that Rillmen do not bend, we break. And the one thing Thorne’s never do is break.” He looked into her eyes. “I will bear my guilt. I will serve my family. And I will do my duty.”

“Then you will never happy.”

“I didn’t realize that was in the cards.”

She smirked. “Sometimes you need to stack the deck.”

She brushed his hand. Grim watched her fingers trace his. “You call me a coward and a hypocrite then expect me to be okay with this?”

She smiled. “Everyone gets used, Grim.”

Grim pulled his hand away. “And everyone has their limits.”