“I really don’t.” His chin dipped as he leaned in. She forced herself not to cringe back. “Witnesses may have spoken for you, but that doesn’t mean you walk out of here. Who’s to say I didn’t arrive too late with the knowledge of your innocence? I came to free you, but the guards had already killed you during your interrogation. An unfortunate blow to the head.” His eyes drifted to her temple and Clare shivered. The commander leaned back. “If you want to walk out of this cell, you will answer my questions. Do you understand?”
Clare jerked out a nod, even though she didn’t understand at all. Sweat gathered on her palms despite the chill that gripped her.
“How old are you?” the commander asked.
She hesitated at the unexpected question. “Eighteen.”
“Do you know how to read?”
“Do I . . .?” The commander’s mouth drew tight, so she cleared her throat. “Yes, I can read.” Her mother had taught her the basics, anyway.
“Do you know any other languages?”
“I speak the common tongue.” Most people learned to speak it, since it was needed in nearly every occupation.
The commander switched to the common tongue. “Who taught you to speak the trade language?”
“My parents,” she answered in kind. “My father was a carpenter.”
He inclined his head, acknowledging her ability with the language before switching back to Devendran. “Do you know how to ride?”
“No.” They’d never been able to afford a horse, even before her father’s death.
“Which kingdom is Devendra’s greatest enemy?”
Were these questions even related? Tension coiled in Clare’s shoulders, but she forced herself to speak. “Mortise. Or perhaps Ryden.”
The answer wasn’t definitive, but that didn’t seem to be an issue for the commander. “What do you know of the royals in Mortise?”
She frowned. “Serjan Saernon is sick. Serjah Desfan is helping to rule in his father’s stead. The prince is a sailor, though some say a pirate. They’re the only surviving members of the royal family. The rest died years ago. In a shipwreck, I think. There are rumors that Mortise is plotting another war against us.” Which made the presence of Mortisian emissaries here at the castle all the more alarming.
The commander didn’t comment on anything she said. He simply moved to his next question. “What do you know of Ryden?”
The northern kingdom was reclusive. They traded sparingly with the rest of Eyrinthia and rarely crossed borders. One of their previous kings, long before Clare’s birth, had tried to conquer all of Eyrinthia. He’d failed, but the resentment between the four kingdoms lived on. The current king of Ryden was said to foam at the mouth and have red eyes. Stories of his demonic sons were often whispered during stormy nights.
“Miss Ellington?” the commander prompted, tone sharp with impatience.
“King Henri Kaelin is rumored to be a demon,” Clare said, coloring a little as she shared the terror-stories she’d heard since childhood. “He hides in his mountain fortress, destitute after his grandfather’s armies were destroyed. He has five sons. It’s said they drink the blood of their kills—animal and human alike.”
The commander didn’t mock her for repeating the over-dramatic stories. “What do you know of Zennor?”
“They’re our allies. King Zaire Buhari has ruled the southern kingdom for years. Even the tribes look to him to manage Zennor’s borders, though they don’t always agree with his laws. King Buhari has many children. His sister was Queen Aren.” The Devendran queen had died three years ago, but her kindness was still remembered by everyone in Devendra.
Disappointment crossed the commander’s face. “I would have expected you to know more.” He scanned her face. “You clearly have some Zennorian blood. A grandparent, perhaps?”
Clare raised her chin and spoke tightly through her growing frustration. “I’m loyal to Devendra.”
The commander glanced again at the bearded man, whom Clare had almost forgotten, he was so quiet. “What do you think?” the commander asked.
“Her voice isn’t quite right.” The cloaked man studied her.“Though as you said, she speaks surprisingly well. Her posture could use correcting, but she doesn’t cower. And did you notice how she lifted her chin? That in particular is right.” His hooked nose wrinkled. “She’s smaller than I wanted. Her skin isn’t dark enough, but that can be managed. Her eyes are nearly a perfect match, which I never imagined we’d find—it’s so rare. And her hair is almost the same shade. How long is it? Unbraid it, girl.”
Her cheeks warmed but her words came out strong. “I’m not some woman for hire.”
The bearded man’s mouth twitched. “You’re right, Commander. In spirit, they’re nearly equal.” He stroked his short beard and Clare caught the glint of a gold ring on his forefinger. “Miss Ellington, I would like to offer you a unique opportunity.”
Clare’s eyes darted between the two men. They’d arrested her, threatened her, and now they were offering her something? Suspicion sang through her. “I don’t understand.”
“What is there to understand?” Apparently the bearded man had taken over the conversation. “I believe the commander laid things out clearly. You will accept my offer, or you will not leave this cell.”
She clenched her jaw. “What offer?”
“To become Princess Serene’s decoy.”
It took a moment for the words to make any sort of sense. “You want me to be the princess’s decoy?”
“Yes.” His eyes sharpened. “The threats against her are mounting, as you witnessed tonight. She needs a double. You resemble her and your deficiencies could be remedied. You could learn to act like her.”
“But, my brothers—”
“You’ll never see them again if you refuse.”
Desperation pinched Clare’s throat. “I’ll die either way.”
He shrugged one broad shoulder. “Probably. But if you become the decoy, I give you my word your brothers will be cared for. Even if you lose your life as a consequence.”
Clare’s wrists ached with the weight of the chains that bound her. She was trapped in every way. Their threats were real. They would kill her if she refused.
And if she accepted?
Her
