She shifted in her seat. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might be curious also. The military host had yet to return from the warfront, and whatever information he possessed must be relegated to delayed letters and reports from soldiers returning home. None of them would know what she knew.

“I’d like to go first,” she said hastily. If the lord asked her a question she didn’t want to answer, Vhalla wanted to leave this visit with at least getting one inquiry answered.

“I have no intent to rush this meeting.” Ophain motioned for her to continue.

Vhalla chewed on her bottom lip, thinking about the most elegant approach to her question. She knew Aldrik had learned from Lord Ophain, which meant the man was well versed in avoiding giving answers he didn’t want to give. And, unlike Aldrik, she couldn’t just demand he tell her the full truth of everything she wanted to know.

“Is the Sword of Jadar real?” Vhalla finally decided on. It was the one thing she couldn’t find conclusive evidence of in any manuscript. And, if the legends were to be believed, there would be no way he could answer her without mention of the Knights.

Lord Ophain leaned back in his chair, an appreciative grin teasing at the corners of his mouth. “You want to know about the Knights.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question, and Vhalla did not hide her intentions, she gave a definitive nod. “And the sword.”

“What makes you think I know about them?”

“Aldrik told me you would.” Their words were like a dance of rapiers. Sharp, pointed, elegant, and prepared to cut to bone.

“What happened between you and my nephew?”

Vhalla knew the question would come, but she couldn’t keep in the heavy sigh. “Tell me first: is the sword real?”

“It is,” the lord finally relented.

Her world stilled. That was an answer she hadn’t been expecting. “Do the Knights have it?”

“Perhaps,” Lord Ophain answered vaguely and continued before she could persist. “You and Aldrik?”

Reaching forward, she grabbed for the dark Western tea that she had little taste for and let its bitterness wash away the harshness of the memories of Aldrik. She wished it had something a bit stronger mixed in.

“He traded his freedom for mine,” she whispered. “He was a reckless fool, and I was a girl pulled along by puppet strings. The fire burned too hot, and we didn’t notice until it consumed everything.” Vhalla passed the ice-cold glass between her hands.

“I have worried deeply for him,” Lord Ophain began. “The sparse letters I received gave me concern for his mental state. My granddaughter’s reports offered little hope, for a time.”

“For a time?” Vhalla wasn’t surprised to learn Elecia and Ophain had been in correspondence. She assumed it meant that Elecia was still well, and Vhalla was genuinely relieved to hear it.

“I hear he gave up the bottle. Or, rather, he is still working on such.” Lord Ophain took a sip from his own glass, allowing that information to sink in. “Once he got through the weeks of shakes, sweats, and general sickness, he has been more active in leading his men. He is handling things with a more tempered grace.”

Vhalla laughed bitterly. “So ending us was the best thing that could’ve happened to him.”

“Loving you is.” Lord Ophain stilled her with three words. He had used present tense. Is, not was.

“You said the Knights have the sword?” Vhalla navigated the conversation back to safer waters.

“I said ‘perhaps’,” the lord insisted.

She frowned. “How is something ‘perhaps’ owned?”

“It is not something you should worry about.” His expression mirrored hers.

“Ophain—”

“I concern myself with keeping madmen like the Knights in check so my subjects and honored guests of the West, like you, do not need to worry.”

“I do not know what misplaced protection you think keeping me in the dark will provide, but you are ill-advised, my lord.” Vhalla placed her drink on the table delicately, sitting straighter. She elongated her words carefully, as a noble would. “The Knights have concerned themselves with me, and I do not foresee any future in which they will leave me be. Trying to keep the truth from me is a disservice.”

“You will pursue this no matter what I say?”

“I will,” Vhalla affirmed.

The lord sighed heavily, stroking the stubble along his chin. “Very well. The sword was not created by King Jadar, as the legends say. The King was merely the one to find it.”

Vhalla subconsciously moved to the edge of her seat as Lord Ophain spoke.

“He became so obsessed with its power that he wanted to do whatever was needed to make more weapons like it, to equip an army with them, to use them to conquer the world. That pursuit drove him mad.

“The son who succeeded him entrusted his brother with hiding the sword for good, after it had driven their father to madness. But his brother kept it secretly for the Knights of Jadar.” Lord Ophain paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. “It remained in the care of the Ci’Dan family through the Knights of Jadar until the War in the West ended—and it went missing.”

“So the Knights could have it?” Vhalla knew there was something he wasn’t telling her.