“Maybe he’s tired of war?” Edain murmurs, from where he’s lounging on a daybed in the corner. He fingers a strand of grapes, his face blank and bored.
Andraste sits in the chair opposite him, casually stroking a cat. All her attention is focused on those long, gentle caresses, as if she doesn’t dare even look at my mother.
I feel the tension too. Even from this little chair in the corner of the room. It’s a surprise to find—after all these years apart—that there’s something we still share.
We both recognize the warning signs.
Mother’s fury starts small, and it builds like a storm on the horizon. Someone will suffer for this. Edain just pushed his way to the head of the list.
“Tired of war?” My mother turns on him like a snake about to strike. He’s made himself a target by speaking up, but maybe he’s spent too many years under her tender loving care to give a damn. “That bastard murdered the queen of Evernight, and then crushed any and all who opposed him. Thiago spent years wading through blood. He had the heads of Evernight’s ruling princes mounted on the walls of his keep to show his city who ruled them now. And you think he’s tired? Of war?”
Edain’s sleepy-lashed look turns hot and insolent as he plucks a single grape from its strand. “Maybe the recent incapacitation of his friend, the hunter, has made him think twice about crossing you. They say he cares deeply for his circle of friends. He offered the borderlands for that bitch, Eris, after all, and there was nothing in it for him at the time. He didn’t even know her. And I’ve never heard of anything that suggests he actually mounted his prince’s heads on the battlements. Only the rumors.”
Rumors. Which means she started them. I don’t know why that thought makes it easier to breathe.
Maybe because I don’t want to think Thiago the type of male who will guillotine someone and then stab their head onto a spike. That isn’t the prince I know, who laid me on the grass and kissed his way down my body. That isn’t the handsome stranger who looked at me with a smile in his eyes, as he captured my hand and lifted it to my lips.
“It doesn’t make sense,” my mother hisses. “No. There’s some play here at hand.” She presses her fingers to her temples. “I just can’t see it. And if I can’t see it then I don’t know where he’s going to strike from.”
I can barely breathe.
The play is me.
I set the challenge before him.
Prove it. Prove I mean more to you than a chance to spite my mother. Prove your offer true.
The thought leaves me breathless and raw. I can’t wait until tonight to see him. I can’t wait to demand to know what he’s thinking. It was a stupid challenge, thrown his way to stop this reckless foolishness. It was never meant to test his resolve. I didn’t think he’d actually do it.
Because now it’s my turn to roll the dice, and I don’t know what to do.
Mother’s right. There has to be some play here. Something long-term perhaps? Perhaps he cedes the southern half of Mistmere to my mother, marries me and—
And then what?
She’s not going to grant him a dowry. She’s not going to celebrate our marriage. If he gains something from this, then I can’t see it, except for the horrible, breathless sensation that maybe it’s me that he gains, but I’m worth nothing in the grand scheme of things and—
“Vi!” A set of fingers snaps right in front of my face and I freeze, because I lost focus on the true danger in the room, and now she’s glaring down at me, leaning forward until both her hands are resting on the arms of the chair I sit in, caging me in. “Are you even listening to me?”
Mother’s fingers dig into my chin, and my heart hammers in my chest because fuck, I’ve made myself a target by letting my thoughts drift.
“Of course I was listening.” I have to salvage this moment, or I’m the one who will bleed for it. “I was just trying to think what he might gain by this.”
“And?”
“Nothing.” The word’s soft. Dry. “He has nothing to gain. Unless…. Unless he seeks to make you out to be the aggressor. Perhaps this has something to do with the other queens and….” I almost say Kyrian’s name, but she sees him as another male usurper. “Maybe it’s got something to do with winning Queen Lucidia to his side. She votes for him as often as she votes against him, and with Queen Maren as your firm ally, and Pri… Kyrian as his, that leaves Lucidia to break any potential ties within the alliance.” I’m babbling now, but she looks thoughtful. “Lucidia craves peace and if he offers the alliance peace, then she will ensure he remains in power to hold the balance.”
She shoves away from me, and I almost fall out of the chair. “At least one of you is thinking.” She taps her lip. “There was some rumor suggesting he and the eldest Ravenal princess sought to make a match.” Her face darkens. “You’re right. This goes further—deeper—than I could have suspected. We have to stop this alliance before he can wield it against me.”
Punishment averted. I release a slow breath, but Edain is watching me from across the room with those implacable eyes. Sometimes I wonder if he sees far more than he ever reveals.
“How do we stop it?” Edain muses, tossing another grape in the air.
“You could kill the girl,” Mother muses. “If I sent you to steal a knife from his tents, you could use that. Lay the blame at his feet.”
Edain actually fumbles the grape, catching it before it hits the ground.
Andraste and I share a look.
It’s rare
