I lock my eyes on the trunk in my hands and tell my brain to knock it off. There’s probably something calculated about all this, too. He probably hopes Jamison will spread word about what a swell guy he is.
Rhen sees me approaching and he turns to take the trunk.
“I’ve got it,” I say, but my voice is too quick. I might be blushing.
He steps back and extends a hand, giving way. “My lady.”
I heave the crate onto the back of the wagon, where Jamison waits to drag it into place. Rhen watches me the whole time. My blush goes nowhere.
Jamison grabs hold of the trunk. “Your Highness, if I may ask …”
Rhen finally looks away. “You may.”
“Do you fear providing enchanted food to your people?”
“I fear not feeding them more.”
My heart flutters, just the tiniest bit, and I have to remind myself that he does nothing without intention, that all of this is part of a plan. A means to an end. A good end, that will help his people, but a calculated effect nonetheless. He’s playing a role. Just like I am.
Jamison nods. “Yes, Your Highness.” He drags the trunk onto the wagon and deftly stacks it atop the others.
Grey emerges from the castle with another trunk and tosses it onto the back of the wagon as well, springing up to stack it himself. The only weapon he’s set aside is his sword. “I believe this is the last of it. For now.”
Jamison straightens and gives him a nod. “Commander. You have my thanks.”
“Don’t worry,” says Rhen. “Commander Grey likes to feel necessary.”
Grey pushes sweat-dampened hair off his forehead and says, “Commander Grey is going to regret saying that.”
Maybe it’s the shared purpose, but they seem different today. Less … something. I can’t quite put my finger on it.
The men jump off the back of the wagon, and Jamison latches it closed. “I will return with the Lady Freya by sundown, Your Highness.”
“Good,” says Rhen.
“Thank you,” I add.
Jamison gives me a short bow. “Yes, my lady. Of course.” He turns to Grey and offers a sharp salute. “Commander.” Then he turns away to head for the front of his wagon.
“Wait,” says Grey.
Jamison turns. “Yes?”
“You saluted me.” Grey frowns, seeming disquieted. “You were not in the Royal Guard.”
“The King’s Army. Until I lost my arm defending Willminton last year.” Jamison looks abashed. “Forgive me. Old habits die hard.”
“What was your rank?”
“Lieutenant.”
“Can you still hold a sword?”
“I can do more than hold one.”
Grey nods. “When you return at sundown, come find me.”
“Yes, sir.” Jamison hesitates, then says, “Why?”
“Because I have need for a lieutenant.”
The man starts to laugh, but Grey’s expression hasn’t changed, and he quickly sobers. “Yes, sir.” He offers another salute, then climbs onto his wagon and urges his horses forward.
Once he’s out of earshot, Rhen says, “Commander, that man is missing an arm.”
“Duly noted.” Grey picks up his sword belt from the marble steps and buckles it into place.
“What’s Willminton?” I say.
“One of the northern border cities.” Grey glances at Rhen. “If he lost an arm defending the city, he may have information on Karis Luran’s army.”
“I considered that.” Rhen is staring at him. “I am not sure that qualifies him to act as your lieutenant.”
“I did not offer him the position. I simply made it known. You asked me to assemble a passable contingent of guards—”
“Yes. Passable. If a missing arm would keep him out of the army, it would certainly keep him out of the Royal Guard.”
“He is experienced.” Grey pauses. “That carries weight with me. I would like to offer him the opportunity to try.”
“It is essential that we appear united and strong—”
“Hire him,” I say.
Rhen snaps his head around. “What did you say?”
“I said, hire him.” I swallow, but refuse to look away from him. “Or give him a fair trial at least. I don’t care if he has one arm. I trust Grey’s judgment. Just like you said you do.”
He sighs and turns to look at me. “My lady, please. You do not know—”
“Don’t patronize me,” I say. “Is this an alliance or not?”
That draws him up short. He studies me, then inhales to speak.
I take a step closer. “Am I a princess or not?”
His eyes narrow. I can practically see the wheels turning in that strategic little head of his.
I turn to look at Grey before my nerves can get the best of me. “If you think Jamison is suitable, test him. If he passes, hire him. That is my order, Commander.”
I wait for his eyes to flick to Rhen, for him to wait for an order from his prince.
He doesn’t. His eyes never leave mine. “Yes, my lady.”
I turn and stalk up the marble steps into the castle.
Adrenaline chases through my veins at a rapid clip, and I’m worried I’m going to collapse into giggles or hysterics or have a full-on nervous breakdown. I hurry along as quickly as I can, heading for the staircase that will lead me to my room. Arabella’s room. Whatever.
A hand catches my arm and turns me around.
Rhen. His touch is gentle, but firm. He all but pins me against the banister, and his expression is a combination of irritation and amusement. “What are you doing?”
I feel a little breathless again. “Going to my room. I need to change out of these clothes.”
His eyes search mine. “Are you playing with me?”
“I’m not sure how sweaty, day-old clothes could be a game.” I move to slip away from him.
He puts a hand on the railing, trapping me there. “Do you think me inflexible, my lady?”
It’s not a question I was expecting, and his closeness combined with all this adrenaline has my heart pounding. “Why?”
“Because I sense that you feel every move you make must be an act of aggression. If you truly had an army at your disposal, I would be worried.” His voice is light, almost soft, but the words carry weight.
I study him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You act as if you must take before I can give.” Rhen shakes his head slightly. “You need not countermand me with Grey.” He looks almost disappointed. “As with yesterday, when you secreted the food. You need not hide your motives if there is something you want.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“My lady. Harper. Princess,” he says pointedly. “How is it you are not understanding?”
“Understanding what?”
Rhen puts his hands on my arms, and even through my sweater, I feel his strength. Goose bumps spring up along my skin.
He leans in a bit. “Whether the curse breaks or not, you are willing to help my people. I am the Crown Prince of Emberfall. If there is something within my power to give you, all you must do is ask.”
I stare up at him. My lips part, but no sound comes out.
He lets me go. “Forgive me. I am denying you your rest.”
I still don’t know what to say.
While I’m standing there trying to figure it out, he moves away, strides across the grand foyer, and heads out into the sunlight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
RHEN
There are children in the castle.
They are loud.
And seemingly everywhere at once. They’re delighted by the music that fills the halls, awed by the candies and pastries that appeared with the late-afternoon tea. Freya seemed frightened at first, but eventually became charmed as well, her eyes wide as she tried to keep the children in order.
I didn’t think I would mind, but their ringing laughter proved to be too much of a reminder of my life b
efore, and I sought the relative silence of the training arena, where Grey spars with Jamison. The only thing ringing here is steel on steel.
Sweat slicks Jamison’s hair and his breathing is heavy, but he has been holding his own. I expected his missing arm to affect his balance, but he seems to have learned to compensate. He fights like a soldier, aggressive and lethal on offense. Soldiers in the King’s Army are trained to kill expediently. The Royal Guard is—was—trained to disarm and disable first. It’s making for an interesting match.
Grey went easy at the start, but there’s no restraint now. When Jamison falls back, Grey takes advantage, driving forward to hook the soldier’s sword with the hilt of his own. The weapon jerks out of Jamison’s hand. I expect that to be the end of it, but the soldier is quick. He snatches his dagger to block Grey’s next attack.
Grey raises a hand to call a stop. He nods at the blade on the ground. “Again.”
They’ve been at this for over an hour. Jamison’s labored breathing fills the empty arena, but he nods and fetches his sword.
Lilith’s voice speaks from the shadows behind me. “Prince Rhen. I see you have found a new toy for Commander Grey. He must be so pleased.”
I’m never truly surprised when she chooses to show herself—especially not now, when I’ve dared to allow myself the smallest bit of hope.
I need to play this very carefully.
“And there are children in the castle.” Lilith claps her hands lightly. “Such fun.”
I turn. She stands in the darkness, barely visible aside from the spark of light on her eyes.
“You said you would not interfere,” I say to her.
“I am not interfering. I am observing.”
“You are interfering with me.”
Her eyebrows go up, but then she smiles mockingly. “Your Highness, you do not seem yourself today. Have you not yet found true love with that tatterdemalion?”
“You know I have not. If this is my last season, I will not see Emberfall burned to the ground before there is nothing I can do about it.”
“And what of your dear, sweet, broken girl?” Lilith presses a finger to her lips and her voice drops to a whisper. “Oh, Your Highness, has she already fallen for Commander Grey? Tell me, do you find it an odd bit of irony, your seasoned fighter matched with a girl who can barely walk with grace?”
“No.” My voice grows bored. “She has asked me to secure a meeting with you so that she may make her case for an early return home.”
“A meeting with me?”
Lilith’s voice is hushed, and I cannot tell whether this impresses her—or angers her. If it’s anger, I need to draw her ire. Better to have it directed at me than at Harper. “Yes.” I lift a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “I could see no reason to keep you a secret.” Swords clash behind me. “If you do not mind, my lady, I have interest in watching this match.”
Without waiting for a response, I return to the arena railing.
My chest is tight. I promised to do this for Harper, but I feel as though I’ve sworn to arrange a meeting between a mouse and a lion.
Lilith steps up to the rail beside me, but she says nothing. Grey and Jamison fight in the center of the arena, though there’s no elegance to it now. The soldier’s swordplay has taken on an air of desperation—but he still fights.
Eventually, Lilith says, “You should have mercy on this man, Prince Rhen. Grey will run him into the ground.”
She is right, but I will not interfere. I am waging my own battle here on the sidelines. “You wish to speak of mercy, Lady Lilith? I find that to be an odd bit of irony.” I glance at her. “If you have no interest in meeting with Harper, leave this place. I have no time for you.”
“You will not dictate to me, Rhen. Must I remind you of our roles here?”
The words hit me hard. I said something similar to Harper. Hearing them from Lilith makes me wish I could take them back.
“I need no reminder,” I snap, turning to face her. “You’ve cursed me. You’ve cursed my kingdom. If you’ve grown bored with your game, end it. If you’re unwilling to return Harper to her home, take your leave.”
“Such fire! Prince Rhen, it has been quite some time since I have seen your temper. I must say, I have missed your spirit.” She lifts a hand and steps forward, reaching as if to touch my chest.
A sword point appears against hers. “You will keep your distance,” says Grey. His breath is barely quick, and though sweat dampens his hair, his sword does not waver.
Lilith scarcely spares him a glance. “This does not concern you, Commander,” she says. “You will keep your distance.”
Grey doesn’t move. His sword point does not either.
Now she looks at him. “Haven’t you learned your little sword cannot truly kill me?”
“I have learned it can hurt you.”
Yes. He has. It never ends well for him.
Lilith moves her hand as if to touch his blade. I have no idea what she plans, whether she’ll turn his sword to molten steel or drive it back into him—or maybe send it spinning to slice into both of us.
But Jamison’s sword appears at her throat, forcing her to lift her chin.
She freezes. Her eyes shift to the soldier. “You have no part in this. You want no quarrel with me.”
He stands strong. He’s tired, but his sword does not waver either. “I know an enemy when I see one.”
Her eyes, full of fury, lock on mine. “I will destroy them both,” she hisses.
“Stand down,” I say to them at once. I don’t take my eyes off her. “You will not harm my people.”
Their swords lower. Jamison takes a step back, but Grey remains at my side.
Lilith steps closer to me. “Tell your other man to give us privacy, or I will destroy him.”
“Jamison,” I say. “Go. Wait in the armory.”
He hesitates—then says, “Yes, Your Highness,” and withdraws.
“I have the power here,” Lilith says. “You are to remember that, Prince Rhen.”
“I have not forgotten.”
“Why do you ask me to return the girl? It does you no good for me to take her away.”
“She does not love me. Her mother is dying. You have cursed me, not her. It seems cruel to deny her the final days with her mother.” I keep my voice bored. Disinterested. Anything more, and Lilith will use it against me.
She considers this for a long moment.
Finally, her eyes flick to Grey. “Fetch the girl, Commander.”
Grey does not move.
Lilith steps forward and walks her fingers up his chest. “I do not like being ignored,” she whispers as her fingers reach the skin of his throat. “I could carve the bones out of your neck while he watches.”
“Harper has come to trust him,” I say to her. “She will not react well to his loss. You yourself swore not to interfere.”
“Who says he needs to die?” Her fingernail presses into his skin and a pearl of red wells up.
“Commander,” I say. “Go.”
“Yes, my lord.” He doesn’t like it, but he’ll obey. Grey heads for the passage into the palace proper.
Lilith moves to stand in front of me. Irritation fills her eyes. “I do not like this,” she says. “You seek to trick me somehow.”
“This is not my request. As you said when Harper arrived, she is an unusual choice. If home calls to her so strongly, I will not trap her here. She will never love me if I keep her prisoner.”
Lilith moves close enough that I feel the weight of her skirts against my legs. “Ah, so you’re altruistic now? I have heard men become so when the end is near. An attempt to right their wrongs, I believe.”
I say nothing.
She folds her arms and gazes up at me. In anyone else, it would be a girlish gesture. “There is a part of me that will miss this.”
“There is no part of me that will,” I say.
Her hand lifts lazily and she traces a finger down the center of my chest. “
Are you sure, Prince Rhen?”
With those words, the pain begins.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
HARPER
I’m hiding from my lady-in-waiting. Freya and her children share the suite next to mine, and she has knocked at the door at least three times over the past hour.
“Shall I lay out a dress for this evening, my lady?”
“Do you need assistance in the bath, my lady?”
“My lady, tea has appeared in the drawing room. Would you like me to serve?”
The last offer was delivered with a mixture of awe and fear.
I’ve declined all of it. I’m not used to people waiting on me—and playing princess to stop the destruction of the inn feels a whole lot different from letting someone brush my hair.
A knock sounds at the door when I’m in the middle of re-braiding my curls.
“I’m fine!” I call. “I don’t need anything!”
“My lady.” Grey’s voice, low and serious, muffled by the heavy wood of the door. “His Highness requests your presence.”
I tie off the braid and go for the door. He’s tall and foreboding pretty much always, but right now his face is a mask of tension.
“Something’s wrong,” I say.
“Lady Lilith has agreed to speak with you.”
Surprise kicks my heart into double-time. “Now?”
“Yes.” His voice indicates he is not happy about this. That makes me more nervous than any of Rhen’s warnings.
I swallow. “Let me get my boots.”
Grey leads me down the staircase where I followed Rhen yesterday. I have to scurry to keep up with him, but I don’t want to tell him to slow down. “They’re in the kitchen?”
He glances at me. “The training arena.”
Fear and excitement battle for space in my chest. In ten minutes, I could be thrown back to Washington, DC. I could be there for my mother. I could be there for Jake. This could all be over.
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