Eris looks like a spitting tom faced with a vicious dog.
“And then you may return her,” I promise.
“You have ten minutes,” Eris warns.
Finn winces. “Our prince may need slightly longer than that, my love.”
“Ten minutes.” She stalks toward the tent flap. “If he’s that desperate to have her, surely that’s long enough.”
Oh, she’s furious all right.
But I wave the others out after her.
I’ll deal with Eris’s misgivings later.
“You saved him,” I murmur as soon as the tent is empty. “Thank you.”
Iskvien pushes to her feet as if sitting leaves her at a disadvantage now we’re alone. “It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing.” I take her hand. “I was about to sacrifice any claim upon Mistmere. Instead, your mother is left with a hand of useless cards.” My voice roughens. “Can she trace this back to you?”
“I don’t think so. We weren’t seen. Edain will suspect someone helped him, though I doubt he’ll think of me.” Iskvien bites her lip. “Nobody ever suspects me.”
I capture her face in my hands. “Come to me if you think she knows. I’ll protect you.”
But Vi tears away from my grasp. “I didn’t just do it for you. She was holding him over my head. Now I’m free.”
“To break this marriage contract?” I hate those words. To even think she’s being forced to marry another….
She hesitates. “Yes.”
My eyes narrow at the tone of voice used. That wasn’t an emphatic “yes”. Our eyes meet. “You don’t have to marry him.”
“If not Finn then it will be someone else,” she says with a shrug. “My maid perhaps. My groom. She’ll put a knife to their throat and force my hand and—”
“No.” I slide a hand through her hair. “You do not have to marry him.”
Fury suddenly blazes in her expression. “And how do I avoid such a fate?”
“By marrying me.”
The words simply force their way past my lips.
Vi freezes.
Even I can’t believe I just said it.
But the second I put them into the world, I know they’re real.
This has been where my heart has been heading from the moment I laid eyes upon her.
I stroke my thumb over her satiny cheek. “Marry me,” I whisper. “Be mine, Vi. She’ll never be able to harm you again.”
“As tempting as that is,” she whispers, “I barely know you.”
“You trusted me with your body.”
She pushes away, pacing through the tent. “I know.”
“Then why doubt me now?”
“How do I know that this hasn’t been planned from the start?” A look that slays me. “I want to trust you. I want to believe this is real. But it’s one thing to kiss you and lie with you, and quite another to bind my fate to yours.” She swallows. “This is forever, Thiago. And I can’t help thinking about the war between you and my mother. I can’t help thinking that you would do anything to destroy her.” Her voice grows very small. “What if this was your plan from the start? Ruin me. Woo me. Steal me away.”
“This has nothing to do with Adaia. We have nothing to do with her—”
She ducks beneath my arm as I reach for her. “There is no “we”.” Frustration roars to life in her eyes. “Prove it. Prove that marrying me has nothing to do with spiting my mother. Prove this is real.”
“And how do I do that?” When she won’t believe my words.
She looks as though a thought occurs.
A horrible, terrible thought, judging by the way her cheeks pale.
“Give her the lands she wants,” she says breathlessly. “Give her the territories in Mistmere. Do it and I’ll marry you. Do it and I’ll become your wife.”
She may as well have struck me.
Give Adaia Mistmere?
No. A thousand times no. Not only is it dangerous politically, but it’s become the playing piece I won’t surrender. My pride won’t allow it.
“You were willing to give it for Finn,” she whispers.
If it was the only way I could save his life….
A part of me hates that she’s asking this of me. A part of me applauds it. I don’t want just a wife. I want a queen. And a queen makes sure of her own worth.
I could have her, and is she not worth a thousand Mistmere’s?
“Do you promise to marry me if I surrender those territories to your mother?” The words are soft. Dangerous.
There’s something about her expression that softens in disbelief.
“I promise. I promise once, I promise twice, I promise thrice. I will marry you if you give Mistmere to my mother.”
Dark, silky lashes obscure my eyes as I try to hide the flare of possessive joy within me. She’s mine. “Then I will hold you to your promise, Princess.” I capture her hand, bringing it to my lips and brushing a soft kiss across the back of her knuckles. “Meet me at the Hammerdale ruins at midnight.”
“And then?”
I can’t help myself.
I kiss her.
Capturing her face between my hands I swoop down and claim that luscious mouth. A gasp escapes her, but then her fists are twining in my shirt. It doesn’t matter if she’s the daughter of my enemy. It doesn’t matter if we barely know each other. We have this and it burns between us. A promise of more. A promise of forever if only I am brave enough to reach out and take it.
I draw back breathlessly, because I promised Eris I would be brief. “And then you belong to me. Forever.”
10
Iskvien
Thiago did it.
He gave my mother Mistmere, simply gave those territories away as if they mean nothing to him. As if there hasn’t been years of strife and bloodshed, two kingdoms holding a knife to each other’s throat. As if Mistmere isn’t the queen on the fari board that my mother and this prince have been playing to win for years, each determined not to yield.
He did it.
For me.
“What fucking game does he think he’s playing?” my mother rages as she stalks circles around her tent. Her golden skirts rasp on the carpets that are laid everywhere, but
