The girl blushed and fingered her gray skirt, not meeting his gaze. She hadn’t been nearly as flustered in the presence of the prince. “Hello, Sir Grannard.” Cheeks flaming, she shot a look at Clare, swallowing so hard it was almost a gulp.“You’d better hurry. Serene won’t want to be kept waiting.”
Though Clare was curious about Vera’s reaction to the handsome soldier, she spared her new friend and said nothing as she and Venn left the room.
They made their way down the hall and into the narrow passage Clare and the commander had used last night. As they walked, Venn pointed out different passages and explained where each hall led.
“How long have you been the princess’s bodyguard?” she asked when he paused for breath. He was clearly close to Bennick’s age, yet he seemed more youthful.
“About two years. Promoted when I was seventeen.” He tossed a grin over his shoulder. “Youngest royal bodyguard in the history of Devendra. Even Bennick, the prodigy, was a year older.”
Clare made a quick calculation. Bennick was twenty, then. Definitely young to be the princess’s lead bodyguard. “I had no idea young men were given such high positions,” she said, ghosting her fingers along the stone wall. In the dim lighting, she liked having the grounding touch.
“Well,” Venn said, “as much as I hate to admit it, I only got the promotion because of Bennick’s recommendation. My own skills ensured my position, but no one would have looked twice at me without his word.”
“You know Captain Markam well, then?”
Venn grinned fondly. “We had our first fistfight when we were eleven. Been friends ever since.”
They entered a wide corridor and Clare spotted Cardon at the end of the hall, standing before a closed door. He looked up at their approach, greeting Clare and then focusing on Venn. “You’re on a double shift too?”
Venn grunted beside her. “Could be up for a third if Bennick doesn’t figure out some decent rotations.”
“Well, we’ve got two princesses to protect now.” Cardon said, smiling at Clare. The motion stretched the pale scar on his cheek, but it didn’t detract from the kindness in his expression.
After the threats and manipulation that had begun her new life as the decoy, she hadn’t expected nearly so much politeness. It struck her then that these guards might not know anything about the coercion that had been used to get her here. Or perhaps they were simply in her same position—regardless of how the king treated her, they had a job to do. But they did not have to be enemies, even if they trapped her as much as they guarded her.
Cardon was still smiling. “How are you this morning, Miss Ellington?”
“Please, call me Clare. And I’m quite well, thank you.”
“Glad to hear it.” He glanced at the closed door beside him. “The princess is already inside, if you’re ready.”
Clare pulled in a breath and jerked out a nod.
Cardon leaned in, his voice low. “Don’t let her intimidate you. She’s lost a great deal and doesn’t always make a good first impression.”
Lost a great deal? The princess had lost her bed. Clare had lost everything but her life—and that would be lost, too, if the rebels had their way.
Clare stepped into the room, surprised to find not a dining room but a sitting room. Buttery sunlight slanted through a short but wide window, adding vibrancy to a colorfully patterned Zennorian rug covering the floor. Princess Serene sat on the edge of a velvet settee, picking at a crescent roll with slim fingers. A silver breakfast tray rested on the low table before her, laden with colorful fruit, delicate pastries, and a steaming pot of tea.
The door closed behind Clare, sealing the women alone.
Serene arched a brow. “Are you going to stand there gaping, or join me?”
Clare grit her teeth at the princess’s abrasive tone, but she moved to the chair across from Serene, pausing to offer a belated bow.
The princess grimaced. “Sit down.” As Clare did, Serene set her pastry aside andbrushedher fingers over a linen napkin.“Let’s get to the point. I don’t like you. I don’t like the inconvenience of you, or that you’re pretending to be me.”
Irritation flared, rolling Clare’s hands into fists on her lap. “I’m sorry you feel intruded upon.”
“You’re stealing my life. How else am I supposed to feel?”
Shebristled.“I’mnot stealing your life.”If anything,the princess had stolen hers. “I saved your life in that ambush, remember?”
Serene arched a dark brow. “Oh, yes. The disheveled kitchen maid. Forgive me, I didn’t recognize you before—you looked too much like me last night. I suppose you want a reward?”
“No, I—”
“Or perhaps you think being the decoy is your reward? Maybe you think this position gives you power.”
There would be no reasoning with her; not when Serene was determined to hate her. Still, Clare tried. “I’m only following the king’s orders. The least you—”
“Yes, your orders. Let’s talk about them.” She leaned back, shoulders bumping against the settee’s cushion.“You’re my father’s puppet, obviously. His spy as well, I assume?”
“Spy?”
The princess’s eyes rolled. “Let’s dispense with the coyness. My father doesn’t trust me to go through with my betrothal to Serjah Desfan, so you’re here to sniff out my intentions like a dutiful mutt.”
Heat flashed over the back of Clare’s neck. “I’m your decoy. That’s all.”
“You are a thorn. An annoyance at best and an enemy at worst.”
“I don’t want to be your enemy.”
“Of course not. You wish to be my friend. Even as you steal my life. Oh, I don’t hate you for it,” she added, when Clare’s mouth fell open to protest. “If anything, I pity you. I pity anyone foolish enough to be blinded by gold, fine gowns, and pretty promises spoken by a man as brutish as my father.” She quirked a smile. “Do use the word brutish when you relay this conversation to him. I
