by Mara McQueen
But she didn't show up tonight. The window had been opened since he'd arrived, the lights off. He was about to call his contact in the home when he heard footsteps close by.
"Fancied a midnight stroll?" he asked, gaze still glued to the window.
"Damn your hearing." Seleka settled next to him, like always. They both belonged in the shadows.
"Where is she?"
"She finally fell asleep at a reasonable hour."
Raiden sighed in relief. He'd been getting worried and unable to show it. But there was something off about Seleka's voice tonight.
"We've known each other for a long time," he said. "Out with it, Seleka."
"This is the last time I can tell you anything. Her Highness ordered us to keep everything from you."
"Ordered?" Raiden's brows rose as a smile spread over his face. "The Capital's getting to her."
"It was inevitable. I don't know what you're planning, but you need to do it faster."
The gods knew he was trying. He’d schemed with his Elite. A trap was in place, but they needed the fuse to light it. Then there'd be no escape for those bastards.
"Are you going to listen to her?" Raiden asked.
"Yes. I swore to protect her. That now includes her secrets."
"You swore you'd do whatever the person paying you to do it said." Raiden looked at her from the corner of his eye. "I'm paying."
"You can buy my skills, but not my loyalty," Seleka said simply.
"Would you look at that? A mercenary with a soul."
"You should try getting one, too."
Raiden laughed.
People who'd killed as many and as ruthlessly as he and Seleka were drawn to the light. Ava had enough to spare. For now.
Raiden leaned against the tree trunk. He'd met Ava under a tree, now he had to look at her from afar from one. How fucking apropos. "Take care of her."
"I will." Seleka turned, looking at him over her shoulder with as much regret as Raiden had seen on her. "You take care of yourself, too. And come back to her fast, before she burns you out of her heart forever."
Chapter Twenty-Five
AVA
"Who's a boss?"
Obviously not Ava if she had to ask, but she was getting there. Day by day.
And today, Ava felt damn good. Like she'd woken up from the longest sleep of her life.
She had a spring in her step and she couldn't stop shaking her hair to feel her new-me, new-attitude hairdo. Shoulder-length, bangs, fabulous. She'd cut off all that shitty energy from the past year.
She'd gone through that pile of clothes, tearing, sewing, and restitching until she made herself some clothes that she could wear around her house, and the first one had been the yellow, flouncy shirt she had on. She had on shorts and one of the maids' tennis shoes; she'd bargained a designer purse for them and couldn't be happier.
Ava wasn't the Crown Princess. She only had a handful of events she had to go to. Who needed fifty fucking clutch bags for that?
She felt lighter. She looked better. She was ready to conquer shit.
But first, she had to find the kitchen.
She followed the sound of steam and cutlery downstairs, past a narrow corridor. She smelled something good.
"Goooood morning, everyone," she said and sauntered in. The cook flustered, a bit of sauce dripping off his spoon. Rossen, meanwhile, took one look at Ava's legs and turned around with a flinch.
"Rossen, really. I have the same legs as everyone else here and you're going to have to get used to seeing them because this place is hot." Everyone around the Capital wore shorts and short dresses, why couldn't she? And speaking of unbearable temperatures—"Do you know where I can find a couple of beers?"
Rossen vanished and came back with two cold bottles.
"Thank you." She took the bottles and, because she was feeling extra perky and Rossen needed to relax, she hugged him. Just for a second, but it was enough to make the man stammer. "And thanks for helping me since day one."
"You're...you're very welcome, Your Highness." He patted her awkwardly on the back but gave her a big, toothy smile.
Ava had a plan. Not becoming Crown Princess meant she had about as much power as before.
Azor was more threatening than her right now and all she did was gallop around the meadow while Ava watched from a distance. She didn't know what had happened that awful day, but she wasn't getting back on Azor until she found out. Best of all? She had access to all of Raiden's ungodly bank accounts.
He was loaded and she planned on making him less so.
She could still help perk up some people. She might as well start close to home.
Because in the meantime, she was waiting to get her revenge. She'd talked to her cousins. If anyone could find out who those wretched Syndicate men were, it was the First Family.
"Anything else you remember about them?" Enzo had asked over the phone. He had a very particular set of skills that would come in real handy in finding those maggots, and he'd promised to help Ava track them down.
"One of them had a scar across his eyebrow. A scraggly goatee." He'd been the one to set her home on fire. He needed to die first.
Enzo had sighed. "Plenty of scars in the Syndicate. And way too many goatees. But I'll find them."
All Ava needed were names. Then she'd make them suffer like she had. It wasn't like she didn't have an entire list of people who knew how to make them hurt in the most brutal ways.
"Seleka." Ava waved at the mercenary who was doing her morning courtyard inspection. "Do you drink?"
A corner of Seleka's lips ticked up. "When it's free."
They settled on the fountain's lip, underneath the lone tree. The poor thing was anemic. No wonder, it only had beige pebbles to keep it company.
Ava took out her switchblade and flicked the bottlecaps off with the handle. Ah, good old mountain skills.
"Cheers." She clinked her beer to Seleka's and took a great, big, impolite chug. Tasted stronger than back home. Good. "This yard looks awful."
"Dreadful."
Ava sighed happily. It was good to hear shitty truths.
"How about we take a stroll outside the Capital gates tomorrow?" Because walking through the city was out of the question. Ava didn't need to hear whispers about what the least favorite was up to. "Find some real trees and shade?"
A corner of Seleka's lips quirked.
"Whaf?" Ava asked around the bottle.
"Nothing. I guess sitting underneath trees is just a Clan thing." She stretched her arms over her head, golden bracelets falling closer to her elbow, but making no sound. "A trip outside the walls sounds good. The Brotherhood members love being caged inside the city, don’t they?"
Music to Ava’s ears.
"Tell me, Seleka. When you're not guarding my ass, what do you do?"
"I run a school for assassins. It's summer break."
Ava's brows shot up into her bangs. Only in the Underworld would someone admit something like that and not feel the least bit ashamed. Seleka sounded proud.
"Need a donation?" What better way to start blowing through Raiden's funds than supporting education? Even the bloody kind.
"The school doesn't accept Clan money."
"Aren't they Clan assassins?"
"No. Much worse."
Ava frowned. "What's worse than Clan?"
Seleka slashed a grin her way. "Pray you won't find out."
"Your Highness." Marcella rushed their way, looking extra perky. She'd even tied her hair with a great big bow. Red. Of course.
"Marcella, you look great," Ava said and took another swig of her beer. It went down cold and smooth. She'd been so terrified of the Capital people seeing this side of her that she'd almost suffocated herself. Screw that.
"So do you, Your Highness." Marcella ran a hand through her curls, blushing a bit. "Now that you've gotten a chance to rest and everything's quieted down, when do you think we can restart the etiquette training?"
Ava's han
d froze halfway up to her mouth. "Why would we? I'm not the Crown Princess."
Goddammit, it still hurt to say it out loud. No matter how hard she tried to shut that reality out of her life, it still crawled back.
Marcella cleared her throat. "But you're still a Brotherhood Princess."
Fat load of good that did her. "Let's talk about this tomorrow."
Or never. Ava didn't need to be reminded she'd made a fool of herself in front of her entire household and have to work for it.
"As you—" Marcella began, but stopped the moment the gate bell rang. "I'll get it, I'll get it."
Ava tensed.
Marcella gave a tiny curtsy and ran toward the gate like there was fire at her heels. As soon as the gate opened and Ava saw it was the gardener, she exhaled deeply, relaxing.
That damn traitor she had instead of a heart had skipped—skipped—at the thought that it might've been Raiden. Which was ridiculous. He didn't ring bells and wait for permission. He strutted in, conquered, then left devastation behind.
Ava blushed when she noticed Seleka watching her closely. Nothing got past her, did it? She and Raiden should form a deadly club. Good thing Ava's new hairdo hid her blushing ears.
"What's that about?" Ava nodded at Marcella and the gardener, who looked very much like they were flirting and trying to be coy about it. Marcella was a romantic at heart, wasn't she?
"You didn't hear it from me—"
"Obviously."
"But Marcella here denies she has a crush on that man. Don't know what she sees in him, he seems dainty."
"Not everyone needs to cut and fight their way through life."
Seleka nodded, but didn't seem all that convinced.
"Well, then." Ava patted her knee, suddenly excited. "What a damn coincidence. I need a garden. He knows how to garden. And Marcella can supervise. This place is a real downer, the two of them can fix it up."
Just because Ava's love life was hellish didn't mean others' had to be.
Seleka glanced at her wearily. "That might be difficult."
"Why?" Ava scratched at the gravel with her foot, until she hit solid ground. "The earth looks decent. Not exactly fertile, but nothing some good manure can't fix."
"No. This house was a gift. In the Capital, you can't change, destroy or give away anything you receive—without the giver's permission."
Oh. So that's why her maid had seemed apprehensive about exchanging her shoes for the purse, even as her eyes shined at the gold. She'd still done it, though.
"Motherfu—" Ava took a deep, calming breath. "So I have to talk to him if I want to turn this cavern into a real home?"
Seleka nodded.
If she had to spend the rest of her days in this house, she needed to make it livable. Erase all things that reminded her she'd gotten it from Raiden. And for that, she needed to go see him.
"Well...shit."
Seleka clinked her bottle to Ava's again. "Good luck."
Chapter Twenty-Six
AVA
Ava forced her hands still as she walked the endless, echoing corridor leading up to Raiden's private study. An entire squadron of servants flanked her on both sides. They pretended to keep working, but Ava felt their stares crawling up her skin.
Yes, she was going to see Raiden. Yes, she was dressed in full regalia—Marcella hadn't let her walk out the door without fussing over her for an hour. She said people would think she wasn't doing her job properly if a Princess, even the lesser one, walked out looking—gasp—normal. Marcella meant well. Ava had relented.
The stares burned the back of her neck.
This was getting ridiculous. She should've been able to visit her damn husband without dozens of eyes calculating how many breaths she took.
She felt like a statue. One of those copper ones perched way up high on top of balconies, so people couldn't get close. The kind that faced decades of decay alone in the rain and turned that slimy shade of green.
Ava clenched her jaw. Of course they'd be curious. Apart from that sham of an official breakfast, she hadn't walked out of her house in a week. She’d gone from hiding in the mountains to hiding in the Capital.
It wasn't their fault she wanted to smash something right now.
She needed to get a grip. Raiden hadn't had an issue coming into her room in the dead of night, had he? She could walk up to his massive red doors in broad daylight without fidgeting in her expensive, uncomfortable shoes.
She wanted to burn those doors until they were nothing but black embers. Watch them turn to ash.
As soon as she stopped in front of the doors cursing their gold filigree, the guards slid them open.
You can do this.
Raiden sat behind a large black desk which seemed to rise out of the floor itself. Stacks upon stacks of parchment lined its shiny surface. Boy, good thing he had countless people to clean up after him, because this man was a messy reader, on top of everything else.
He didn't look up from whatever document he was reviewing furiously.
"I told you I didn't want to be disturbed by anyone except for—" His eyes snapped to hers.
Despite everything he'd put her through, despite every trampled hope and feeling, Ava's heart still fluttered.
Traitor. I'm cutting you out before I'm cremated.
Everyone hushed and stilled behind her. Ava didn't miss the way some of them, mostly the women, stole longing, lustful peeks at the Prince—and then gave her curious looks.
Yeah, Ava didn't think the two of them matched, either. Not anymore.
Whatever surprise had been in his gaze quickly vanished as that bottomless coldness of his took hold as he looked at her haircut. "New look?"
Ava swished her hair just because he obviously didn't like it. "Goes with the new attitude."
She squared her shoulders and walked in like she owned the place. Maybe she did. At least a third of it. She'd have to check the marriage contract again.
"Leave us," his voice slashed down the corridor.
As soon as the doors slid closed with a soft whoosh, an ugly silence settled between them.
For once, Ava wasn't eager to break the quiet. He could wait like she'd had.
His shirt was a bit loose around the collar, as if he'd worn and twisted in it for too long. His long hair had lost some of its luster. Good.
"To what do I owe the visit?" he asked with a jagged smile. Two weeks ago, Ava had found it charming.
Visit. Not pleasure. Obviously.
Ava sucked in her cheeks, making her face look more angular. "I understand it's a Capital custom to ask you if I can plant flowers in my own garden. Or change a single throw pillow. You failed to mention that when you gave me that abomination of a fortress."
"Complaining you got a free house?" Raiden leaned back in his chair, so at ease, Ava wanted to light a fire under him to see him squirm. "That's not like you."
"It wasn't free. I paid for it with the rest of my life."
"Come now." His long fingers wandered into the bowl on his desk, filled with fancy snacks and sweets. "You have Seleka and Marcella. Even Rossen. Can't be all that bad."
I wanted you. "It would be even better if we weren't living in a mausoleum."
He popped a star-shaped fruit into his mouth. Then another. Then one more, all while staring at her. He was trying to make her fidget, wasn't he?
That gaze of his always saw too much and gave nothing away, but it seemed to want to cut through the layers she had on.
Do not blush.
He remained infuriatingly silent.
Fine. If he didn't care about what she wanted—when had he ever?—then maybe he'd care about one of his Brotherhood members.
"At least give me the garden," she bit out. Negotiating what she could and couldn't do. Same old shit as back home, but covered in gold this time. "It'll help with, shall we say, establishing a budding relationship between—"
He moved lightning fast. One moment he was looking at her as if he wanted to map every
curve and indent. The next, he slammed his hands onto the desk, jaw clenched.
Ava took a step back. What the—
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he popped them open again, they were cool and calm. A mocking smile played on his lips. "We discussed this during that horrid after-wedding breakfast. You signed a contract. No cheating."
Ava blinked her surprise away. Then got angry enough to shake.
"Not for me, you hypocritical caveman," she snapped. "For one of my employees."
Didn't matter who. Ava was no snitch.
Raiden didn't look convinced, though. His jaw kept twitching, no matter how hard he breathed. In. Out. In. Out.
"For heaven's sake, I'm not going to beg." Her voice rose, vibrating around them. "You either believe me or you don't."
And go fuck yourself.
Why did he care? Ava wasn't some toy he could play with then put back on the shelf so nobody else could even look at her. He had Kimbra, perfection incarnate. It should've been enough.
They stared at each other for a long time, tension bubbling around them.
Raiden shook his head and snapped out of whatever had gotten hold of him. He relaxed back in his chair, as if nothing had happened.
"Do whatever you want with it." He popped a strawberry in his mouth and waved carelessly. "Bulldoze the entire place for all I care."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Ava's heart gave a bitter echo. What was wrong with her? He obviously didn't care, why should she?
Because you're a fool who fell in love with the Brotherhood Prince. That's why.
The thought almost keeled her over. She was, wasn't she?
Stupidly in love with him, even after what he'd done.
She couldn't blame this on her upbringing. Her parents had warned her not to fall for the wrong guy. She'd fallen for the worst of the worst.
If she stood here one more second, he'd figure it out. Ava didn't have a poker face. She couldn't lie to Raiden, who'd grown up among assassins and schemers.
She gave a quick nod—she wasn't about to thank him for anything—and whirled around.
