Stone Prince

by Emma Alisyn

  His brow arched. “Isn’t that why the Mogrens keep trying to overthrow us? Though it isn’t like Lavinia was planning on setting up a democracy.”

  True.

  “Niko’s on alert,” Malin said, “and my security has dispatched a unit of men.”

  “Humans?” Rhina asked, professionally curious. It would do some good to research the full depth of Prince Malin’s private personal army. There were rumors of it, but his networks were subtle and not easily unearthed. It had probably been a mistake not to focus as much of her research on him as she had on Geza. Rhina stared at Malin, realizing she would need to rectify that mistake and soon.

  The former Prince met her eyes and smiled, a thin, cool, smile. “Yes,” he said. “I think I’d prefer to have you on our side.”

  “There is one issue I want resolved, however,” Surah said. The males turned towards her, reacting to the chill in her tone. Rhina tensed. “Was your intent to murder us all personal, or professional?”

  Cold, dark eyes speared Rhina. “Both. Geza was personal. The rest of you, I would have taken no joy in your deaths.” She looked down at her hands, realizing she’d interlocked her fingers in a gesture of tension. “I was trying to talk myself out of it.”

  “Why Geza?” Malin asked. “What did he do?”

  Rhina stiffened.

  “You don’t have to talk about this,” Geza said. The hand on her waist slid fully around her as Geza brought her against his side in a protective hug. “It's none of their business.”

  “It’s their business,” Rhina said. “At some point, if we do decide to . . . join . . . you’ll need to debrief me. The last thing anyone needs is for my past to rear up and bite someone in the ass.”

  “We’ll save that for another time,” Malin said, “and I appreciate the offer.” The subtlest tinge of warmth entered his eyes. Was it her willingness to bare open her grotesque soul for their benefit?

  “Waiting,” Surah said.

  Geza grimaced at his sister. “You’re such a little b—” Rhina slammed her foot on his toe. He grunted, swearing.

  “She has a right to ask,” she snapped at him, then steeled herself. “Geza and my mother were friends years ago.”

  “Alexa Mogren. Yes, we know.”

  “She died.” Somehow Rhina condensed that horrible time into two terse words. “Lavinia told me Geza was the direct cause of her death. I felt betrayed. We’d been…friends. I thought he’d cared about us.”

  There was silence for several moments before Surah spoke, this time her voice gentler. “Now you don’t believe he is to blame?”

  “. . . no, I don’t.”

  “How did she die?” Malin asked.

  Rhina glanced at Geza. “I’m following a lead within my family. Geza thinks Lavinia had her killed to prevent any opposition to my . . . training.”

  “Your training?” Malin asked.

  They didn’t know. Rhina’s eyes widened, just a bit, before she caught herself. Geza had guessed, but he hadn’t told his siblings. She looked between the three of them.

  “I’m a specially-trained assassin within my house,” she said carefully, navigating the truth without betraying one of the darkest secrets of her family. “The training is long, expensive, and brutal. My mother, if she lived, would have objected. I have unique skills that benefit my family.”

  Malin looked thoughtful. “I see. I knew Lavinia very well. Geza . . . I’ll make the inquiries on this matter. I’ll have more success.”

  “No,” Rhina said. “This is a Mogren clan matter. I will handle it.”

  Malin looked at her for a long moment, then inclined his head. “Very well.”

  “I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Geza told her quietly as they left the estate. “Remember. You’re mine.”

  “There’s going to be a fight, Geza.”

  “I don’t think there will be.” His expression was thoughtful. “The crimes your family is being tried for are against me personally. No matter what you’ve done, if Malin, Surah, and I refuse to proceed, they don’t have a leg to stand on. You know, if you married me that would really cut them off at the balls.”

  Her wings halted for a moment in shock and she fell several feet before resuming flight, teeth gritted. Geza was at her side in another moment, expression amused.

  “Was it something I said?” he asked, then laughed.

  Could she take a lifetime of him? She would need a vacation every year, a few weeks in the mountains where he couldn’t find her so she could have some peace and quiet. He really did need a handler. His siblings and Sir Nikolau were doing their best, but Rhina didn’t believe they really understood Geza. They were too close, and the familiarity blinded them to the facets of his personality. Facets she was beginning to learn. That she was beginning to allow herself to learn, starting with the internal admission that the frozen kernel of something she’d felt for him as a teenager was slowly thawing, unfurling and resuming, though brokenly, the growth it had begun years ago.

  For a moment, she deliberately recalled her feelings during her sixteenth summer. Let the shadow of emotional memory settle over her like a shawl.

  Pride, an inner vindication that he showed her attention, even if it was only in private. A little friendly scorn for his unserious ways, so unlike his warrior father and elder brother who she stayed far away from. Pleasure at his constant ribald needling of the courtiers and his roguish scorn when they spoke in private. Comfort that he seemed to accept her as she was, and not care one bit about her mixed bloodline. Trust, because, for once, someone said he would fight with her if she needed an ally. Even though he respected her wishes and didn’t confront her tormentors in court, he’d offered a stoic commiseration and advice when they were alone. Insights she’d used to handle her bullies and tread water, avoiding the worst forms of victimization that might have happened had they sensed any weakness.

  Here he was again, offering protection and understanding. No judgment of her, her past, or her actions. Not the male she’d thought betrayed her, but the male she’d always knew him to be. Caring in his own way, loyal to his family. Savvy and ruthless, masking it behind an insouciant mask . . . which she appreciated. She’d had to mask her feelings behind masks, even in her own family.

  They landed on his balcony, and Geza turned to her immediately. “You’ve been thinking. It’s a trait I usually despise in females, but I suppose I must make an exception in your case.”

  Rhina sighed and brushed past him, ignoring his outrageous remarks. He just enjoyed needling people.

  “Rhina, I’m not trying to pressure you to make a decision now,” he said, following her inside. “Any minute, my security will be in this suite, and then the Councilors will present me with a demand to turn you over.”

  Rhina turned, facing him. He’d shifted his mood back to serious, abandoning the pretense of flippancy.

  “Have to know what you’re going to do,” he said. “If you’re with me.”

  “With you in what sense?”

  “Every sense.” He held her eyes. “You’ll need to swear the oath of fealty. You didn’t come to court when you were of age.”

  Rhina grimaced.

  “If you married me, all of that could be delayed. We would have time to court in peace, without the objections of the Council casting a pall over everything.”

  “We would be married. That’s a little permanent.”

  “A handfasting?”

  “Princes don’t handfast. Your marriage is a matter of state.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe in the past. Things aren’t quite that draconic now. The Ioveanu power base is strong enough that we may choose our brides. There are no alliances that I can’t make with money and influence rather than ties of blood.”

  Geza approached her. “Let me tell them we are to handfasted. They wouldn’t dare demand my wife be arraigned.”

  “Geza, I . . . .” she stared at him. “I don’t know what to think, to feel.”

  “With a ha
ndfasting, you’ll have time to sort it all out. With me.”

  When she didn’t back away, he slowly pulled her into the circle of his arms. “I don’t fully understand my feelings, either, but I want to see where they lead. I know I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t want to throw away the chance. Do you?”

  Rhina closed her eyes, settling her forehead on his shoulder. The fact that his arms comforted her, the rise and fall of his chest soothing, told her what she needed to know. Whether she understood her feelings or not, whether she forgave him or not and accepted his innocence in the greatest crime of her life, it seems that a part of her had made the decision already.

  “Fine,” she said. “We’ll try it your way.”

  His arms tightened around her and his mouth brushed against her ear gently. Then he ruined it. “Babes always do.”

  22

  Sir Nikolau interrupted their scuffle.

  “Your Highness,” his cold, deep voice said at the threshold of the suite.

  “Can’t you see we’re busy courting?” Geza said, just barely avoiding the blow that almost landed on his cheek as Rhina took advantage of his distraction.

  “Yes. My stepdaughter often plays with the other garlings like this.”

  Rhina broke away from Geza, lifting her hands in surrender. Geza’s eyes dipped to the rip in her blouse that exposed a swell of her breast, and leered. Then he sobered and turned to his guard.

  “Yes, yes. So tell me.”

  “The Council issued a formal demand you relinquish your Mogren to the custody of the judiciary.”

  Geza rubbed his hands. “Are there any justices on duty in the court right now?”

  Niko frowned. “There usually is at least one.”

  “I need one who owes the Ioveanus a favor. Here, asap.”

  “What are you going to do?” Niko asked.

  Geza grinned. “I’m taking a page out of your playbook, old chap. Rhina and I are handfasting.”

  It was to Niko’s credit that he didn’t change expression, but Rhina watched him with amusement anyway. He refused to look at her, which was telling enough.

  “We’ll need a witness of unimpeachable character,” Rhina said, wanting to needle the guard. “What about Bea?”

  Nikolau glared at her. She smiled back.

  “That’s perfect, I’ll have Surah bring her if she’s still at the house.”

  “What?” Niko asked.

  “You didn’t know where you mate was all night?” Geza’s eyes were mocking. “My sister, your mate, and my wife were all in Malin’s kitchen getting drunk and playing with sharp knives.”

  “You were watching us?” Rhina asked.

  “Of course. We had to make sure you weren’t homicidal.”

  She sighed.

  “You’re going to marry her?” Niko exclaimed. “The Ioveanus, every last one of you, are insane.”

  Geza clapped him on the shoulder. “About that justice.”

  Rhina didn’t really have a romantic bone in her body and wasn’t worried at all about what she was going to wear. Surah was horrified.

  “I know I don’t care about fashion or etiquette,” the Princess said, “but this is taking it too far.”

  So, Surah brought a gown with her, and insisted Rhina shower and brush her hair out and at least try and pretend like she was a normal female.

  The dress was pretty, a long column of ice-blue with an old-fashioned corseted top that left her shoulders bare, and a flowing skirt that hugged her hips to mid-thigh and then draped in sheer folds. It was simple, feminine, and suited her pale-silver hair and dark eyes.

  What was she doing? They’d worried about her casting spells on Geza when it was the other way around.

  The justice, wide-eyed and staring at Rhina, handfasted them. Paperwork was required, and when she inserted her name, the justice’s eyes popped out of his head.

  “I don’t know the name of my father,” she told the male.

  He cleared his throat. “Unknown, pending, is appropriate. My Prince . . .” his eyes slid to Geza. “The law requires a Princess declare her entire lineage on both sides. We will need to know her paternity.”

  “I’m taking care of it,” Geza said. “Niko, you can escort us to the other Council room since we have an announcement to make.”

  Councilor Esteven stared, expression set as soon as the words left Geza’s mouth. There was a shocked ripple through the group, and they all stared at Moghrenna, who remained tall and impassive at Geza’s side.

  “On your head be it,” someone said. “It’s no longer our concern.”

  “That’s preposterous,” Esteven said, sputtering. “This is a trick he’s played to thumb his nose at us.”

  “Getting married?” another person replied, voice dry. “Some trick. Joke’s on him.”

  “Your handfasted wife is protected from legal prosecution in this matter only,” Esteven said, glaring, “but it does not give her the status of Princess.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Geza replied, voice mild. “We simply wished to inform you of the event. Good evening, Councilors.”

  “That went surprisingly well,” he said as they entered his suite again.

  Rhina walked in a circle. “Too easy. I need a device. My unit in the office—”

  He crossed his arms. “No, you can do whatever you need to do here for now.”

  She stopped walking and faced him. “You don’t mean to take me off my projects, do you?”

  “You’re kinda already off your real project.”

  True. He didn’t have to say it so sarcastically. There were two things she needed to do.

  Speak with Tyra.

  Speak with Lourden.

  She slanted a look at Geza. No reason to tell him yet.

  The Prince had a device brought for her, and settled her at his desk with the air of a male trying to find something for her to do, so she’d stay put for several hours. Rhina didn’t mind, especially since he left the suite to tend to his own business.

  Rhina hacked into her computer and opened up the face chat function, using her own webcam to view the apartment.

  “Tyra?”

  There was a startled rustle of wings through the speakers, and Tyra rushed into view. “Moghrenna! You’re alive. I know you told me not to do anything until you contacted me, but it’s been days.”

  “I know, I’m sorry, I had to wait until I was sure the situation here was under control.”

  Tyra frowned, peering over Rhina’s shoulders. “Where are you?”

  “Prince Geza’s suite. Look, I probably don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Prince Geza's suite? Moghrenna, what’s going on?”

  Rhina grimaced. “We handfasted.”

  “Oh, God. You did what? Does he know who you are?”

  “He knows. It’s a long story. Tyra . . .” she hesitated. “I might be able to get you a pardon if you come forward and testify.”

  Tyra stiffened visibly. “You trust him?”

  “I handfasted him. I don’t think he’ll betray me.”

  “The Council.”

  “The feud between the Ioveanus and the Mogrens really is a private matter. He’s not trying it as a matter of state. Geza can pardon whom he chooses, he just, so far, allowed the judiciary to handle things. He’s lazy.” Or, at least, he wanted people to think that.

  “I have to think about it, Moghrenna. I’m not sure. Do I have time?”

  She nodded. “A few days. I don’t think it would be beneficial to draw it out any longer. Whatever your decision, I'll support you.”

  Rhina ended the conversation, after giving her cousin a few instructions on what to do in different emergency scenarios. Thoughtfully, she located Geza’s wine cabinet and poured herself a glass, or two, and leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, allowing the liquid to soothe her jangled nerves. Place a barrier between herself and her doubts.

  As she was about to stand to test her sobriety, the comm on the device blinked. A heart-shaped
human face filled the screen.

  “Bea?”

  The woman looked a little wild around the eyes. “Your desk unit forwarded me here—is this a new device? Never mind. Look, all the arrangements, all the time and manpower. It just occurred to me . . . are we still having the ball?”

  “I have the preliminary, redacted results,” Surah said, “and you aren’t going to like it.”

  He’d left his handfasted bride in their quarters because it hit him . . . he was married, and he needed the privacy of his office to wallow in the shock without Moghrenna thinking he had cold feet. He didn’t. He just . . . he was married. She was his. She hadn’t even protested, not really. He didn’t think she was trying to play him, but it would be nice if he could read her mind and know what was going on in that labyrinth.

  “Tell me,” he said. “Wait. Preliminary?”

  “We knew she was Fae. I received access to their database, but her DNA was flagged. It matches one of their families whose files are sealed against my inquiry. You’re going to have to make the request yourself, Geza, and tell them everything.”

  He didn’t like where this was going. “There’s only one reason why records would be sealed.”

  Surah grimaced. “Yeah. Looks like you’ve got yourself a bastard Fae Princess. Congrats, bro. Only you could have walked right into a mess like that.”

  It wasn’t the political disaster it could have been. There were hundreds of Fae Princesses in the world, spread across multiple continents and realms. She was illegitimate, so there would be a certain amount of flexibility. Did her father know she existed? If he didn’t, he knew now.

  Geza was about to comm the Fae embassy when a communication came through. He accepted, and the oval face, sharp bone structure, and haughty air of a Fae official snapped into view. Dark-gold hair in several braids twined around the crown of his head, and he wore a plain white, high-necked shirt.

  “Prince Geza, I am Roan Kor.”

  “I know who you are.” An aide to the local ambassador, whom Geza had never had occasion to deal with personally.