‘‘No, my lord. She hasn’t. She’s said no repeatedly. I’ve become quite certain that no is what she means.’’
‘‘She won’t agree to marry you—ever?’’
‘‘That’s right, sire.’’
‘‘You’re sure of this?’’
‘‘I am.’’
The king frowned. ‘‘Are you telling me, then, that the Freyasdahl signs have been proven wrong in her case?’’
‘‘No, Your Majesty. Your daughter carries my child.’’
‘‘And she won’t marry you. She refuses. You’re certain of this?’’
‘‘I am.’’
The king heaved a deep sigh. ‘‘Then it’s as I told you from the first. You will have to take her.’’ The king paused, waiting for Finn to agree with him. Finn didn’t. The king looked at him darkly and went on. ‘‘It will be more difficult now that she’s back in America. You should have listened to me, Finn. She’d be at Balmarran now.’’
‘‘It doesn’t matter.’’
The king’s frowned deepened. ‘‘Doesn’t matter? What’s this? Of course it matters.’’
‘‘I don’t intend to take her.’’
The king stood very still. ‘‘What did you say?’’ His deep voice vibrated with barely leashed fury.
‘‘I said, sire, that she’s chosen not to marry me. She wants to stay in America and raise the child on her own. I think she’ll make a fine mother. Your wife, the queen, will make certain she has everything she needs. Liv—and my child—will thrive.’’
A rumble of rage rose from the king’s throat. ‘‘You would make of your own child a fitz.’’
Finn kept his face resolutely expressionless. ‘‘It’s America. The child will suffer little stigma there. And I refuse to claim a wife against her will.’’
There was a moment of echoing silence. The king looked at him as if he had lost his mind. And maybe he had.
Then the king commanded, ‘‘You will go for her. You will take her. You will keep her until she’s wed you and the child is born.’’
‘‘I am sorry, Your Majesty. But no. I will not.’’
Liv’s phone rang in the deepest part of the night.
She bolted upright in bed and cried out, ‘‘Finn!’’ before she came fully awake and remembered he was gone and she was getting over him.
She grabbed the receiver on the third ring and barked into it, ‘‘What?’’
A crackle of static, then Brit’s voice. ‘‘Don’t tell me I woke you.’’
‘‘It’s two in the morning here, did you know that?’’
‘‘Well, yes. I admit, I did. But I’ve been… developing my sources around here.’’
Liv wasn’t getting it. ‘‘Your sources?’’
‘‘All right, I’ll be crass. My spies. I have spies of my own now. Believe me, around here I need them—and Elli’s here.’’
‘‘With you?’’
‘‘Uh-huh. I’ll put her on in a minute.’’
‘‘Okay. Good—spies? You have spies?’’
‘‘You got it.’’
‘‘So, you have news for me, is that it? From these spies of yours?’’
‘‘Yes. And Elli confirms it.’’
‘‘Confirms what?’’
‘‘That father’s had Finn Danelaw thrown into Tarngalla.’’
Tarngalla. Liv couldn’t believe it. ‘‘You’re not serious.’’
‘‘Oh, but I am.’’
Liv recalled her first sight of the stone fortress about ten miles north of Lysgard, on a treeless stretch of land. The edifice itself had looked impenetrable, its forbidding aspect made more so by the high electrified fence surrounding it, coils of cruel barbed wire on top.
Finn had been with her that day. ‘‘Watch your step,’’ he’d warned. ‘‘Do murder and get caught, perpetrate a dastardly crime against the state—and Tarngalla awaits. Parents of naughty children have invoked its specter for centuries now. ‘Keep up like that, young man, and it’s Tarngalla for you…’’’
Liv was suddenly wide-awake. ‘‘Father threw Finn in prison?’’
‘‘Isn’t that what I just said?’’
‘‘But why?’’
‘‘We don’t know yet.’’
‘‘We?’’
‘‘Me. Elli—we’re trying to find out.’’
‘‘Did you ask Father?’’
‘‘It was only early this morning that it happened, from what we’ve been able to piece together. Dad has been unavailable since then.’’
‘‘I’ll bet,’’ Liv muttered.
Brit said, ‘‘Elli and I got together on it. We decided we ought to let you in on the situation.’’