Grayson slowly set his hand in hers, his heart throbbing.
She squeezed his gloved fingers, a slow and constricting grip. “You’re my favorite son. My scarred prince. You have my word; your treason will remain between us.”
As long as he did whatever she wanted. Loyalty for loyalty. That was her price. And he had no choice but to agree. Grayson didn’t know what his father would do to him if he learned the truth about helping the Hogans escape, but that didn’t really concern him. It was the thought of what Henri would do to Mia that made him bow his head, silently accepting his mother’s terms.
With his head down, he caught sight of the black viper stretched out inside the glass cage behind him. Her forked tongue flicked out and her black scales glinted in the sun. Her slitted eyes found him, trapped him. Whatever kind of snake she was, Grayson knew one bite would kill.
He didn’t expect any less from his mother.
Chapter 27
Clare
Clare walked beside vera and Ivonne, unable to stop scanning the faces that lined the streets of Lower Iden. Each step brought Clare closer to home, and even though that wasn’t today’s destination, she still hoped for a glimpse of her younger brothers in the waving crowd.
Men, women, and children called out greetings to Serene as she rode at the head of the procession, towering and beautiful atop her horse, Fury. She waved to the people of Iden, smiling with an ease and sincerity Clare hadn’t realized the sarcastic princess possessed.
It had been two days since the king’s ball and Clare was mostly recovered from the Vaerue poisoning, though she was still quick to tire, and a bruise still marred her cheek from when she’d fallen. During training this morning, Bennick had suggested she remain at the castle to rest, instead of going to the orphanage. She’d snatched the wooden practice knife out of his hand and stabbed him with it. She refused to miss this trip into Iden. Even if she didn’t see her family, she longed for a momentary escape from the castle.
Serene had planned to visit Lower Iden’s orphanage weeks ago, and she was adamant about doing the charitable visit as planned—without a decoy. King Newlan was eventually persuaded to agree, though he’d insisted on a larger guard. All of Serene’s bodyguards were present as well as a host of palace and city guards. The maids had been invited to help unload the wagon of supplies, but nothing about this felt like work to Clare. Seeing children laugh and dart through the crowded streets, smelling the fry bread and spices in the market, hearing the regular shouts and haggling—it assured her that life continued. Ordinary people lived ordinary lives, unaffected by the danger that stalked the castle.
Vera had told Clare that Serene’s mother established theorphanage years ago, modeling it after the successful orphan homes in Zennor. Out of all the charitable work Serene did, she had a special place in her heart for the orphanage.
When they reached the large building that housed Iden’s orphans, Clare did a final scan of the crowd. Soldiers were gently pushing the crowds back so Serene could dismount and Cardon, Bennick, and Wilf remained close as orphans swarmed the princess, carrying handmade gifts and begging for attention. Serene laughed and tried to greet them all individually at once, and it surprised Clare how well she managed. She even knew some of the children by name.
The sight warmed Clare, but she was still distracted as she craned her neck, searching for Thomas or Mark on the edge of the crowd. They didn’t know she was with the princess, but the hope that they might still show up burned in her chest.
Vera nudged Clare’s side with her elbow. “Are they here?” she asked.
“I don’t think so.” But she continued to look.
The children moved inside with the princess, leaving the maids, soldiers, and some of the orphanage staff to unload the wagon. Clare helped carry food, toys, and other supplies into the orphanage, and each time she returned to the wagon she searched the crowd lining the street.
Clare was lifting down a couple loaves of bread wrapped in linen when she turned from the wagon and nearly slammed into Gavril.
He snatched her arms, steadying her. “Sorry!”
An embarrassed flush warmed her cheeks. “Sorry, I was distracted.”
A snigger burst beside them and Clare turned to see two city guards shooting her and Gavril looks, harsh smiles on their faces as they strode past.
Gavril tensed and released Clare, eyes dropping as he slid back a step. “Apologies if I frightened you.”
“You didn’t.” Clare’s fingers tightened on the bread.“Gavril—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted quietly.
Her chest squeezed. She didn’t know Gavril well, but he was often stationed outside the princess’s suite and had always been polite to her. And Clare knew his father—Master Lank—worried about him. Compassion rose inside her and she stepped closer, forcing him to meet her gaze. She kept her voice low but even. “You’re not your scars, Gavril.”
He eyed her, the lines on his face deepening. “Sometimes that’s all I think I am.” He turned before she could form a response, lifted down a crate of food, and disappeared into the orphanage.
Clare followed more slowly, and when she’d deposited thebread and ducked back outside, she caught sight of Gavril stalking past the wagon to join the soldiers securing the perimeter. Clearly, he didn’t want conversation right now. She sighed and stepped up to the wagon, dragging a wooden crate of books toward her.
Bennick leaned suddenly around her, snagging the crate before she could pull it down.
Her heart tripped at his sudden nearness. He’d been busy settling the princess inside, but apparently he trusted the other bodyguards to keep an eye on her now. “I can carry a crate of books,” Clare told him.
“So can I.” He tossed her a grin and shifted the crate in hisarms. He ducked his
