When his hand touched the mare’s neck, she shook her mane and whinnied. Adelei patted her. “I earned my place through the same training as any other,” she said. “There is no favoritism amongst the Amaskans.”
“And yet you feel it necessary to defend yourself. Something has you walking on a blade’s edge. I’ve seen you before, you know. You once were in Shad to kill a man—my cousin in fact. You moved with a confidence and strength that I admired. I said to myself, ‘Now there’s a warrior who knows death. Who isn’t afraid to die, but seeks it out like a lover.’”
“I don’t—”
He interrupted her, holding his hand up beside her face. “Moved, past tense, Master Adelei. The person standing before me now is no Amaskan. You seem unsure of who you are these days. And I can’t help but wonder why that is.”
“I am Amaskan—”
He tapped her scar. “Former Amaskan. Does it confuse you? The struggle of loyalty?”
“What do you mean?” She allowed her fingers to tremble as they brushed the mare.
“I mean, does it pain you that you’re going to have to choose?”
She faced him, trying to read him, but the smile that lit up his eyes in the candlelight covered any truth that could have hidden amongst his features. “Either speak plainly or leave. I came out here to be alone with my thoughts.” Adelei returned to brushing the mare, leaving her back to him.
Come on, take the bait. She leaned over the horse and allowed her shoulders to slump. He’d been right about her knowledge of death, but it wasn’t lost knowledge, despite her inner turmoil.
“Do you still love him like a father, even knowing what he ordered done to you? What he tried to do to his sister?”
Adelei fought then to remain in her vulnerable position. Her body screamed out to move. When she didn’t, he leaned his frame against her backside, his lips so close to her ear that she could smell the wine on his breath. “I know more about you than you do, Master Adelei. Information is power, as well you know. What will I do with this information, hmmm? You have to be asking yourself that,” he whispered, and his arm encircled her waist. She allowed the contact, though her nerves screamed.
“This marriage will happen, or I will take my information to the highest bidder. Be that the Boahim Senate or the Tribor, it makes no difference. Either way, you will still be dead, as you should have stayed, Iliana Poncett of Alexander.”
“And what makes you think this knowledge is unknown? Or correct? Threatening an Amaskan is never a good idea.” She tried to face him, to prove she was calling his bluff, but he held her in place.
“Now, now—it doesn’t have to be like that, Master Adelei.”
Cold fingers stroked her cheek. She shut her eyes and willed herself to remain calm. He’s toying with you—ignore it. Get the information. Let him think he’s winning. Adelei allowed herself a slight shiver, which elicited another chuckle from the prince.
“I’m a powerful man, Master Adelei. I could buy your contract, set you free of all of this. With you and me together, no one could stop us. We could shape the Little Dozen as we like.”
“And why should that tempt me?”
“Because with me, you know what you’re getting.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Sure you do,” he said, “I’ve been nothing but honest with you. What I know. Who I am. I could keep these things hidden, but I don’t. I am what I am. Can you say the same about… your father?”
Adelei held back her wince.
“Your father sent you away and into the hands of those who wanted you dead. What if I told you this same father has plans for you yet?”
She froze. The action this time was genuine. “What do you mean?”
The mare butted Adelei’s hand, and she absently brushed the mare’s shoulder. “The Little Dozen. Why do you think I want this marriage? King Leon has plans to seize the kingdoms—all of them—and I’m here to stop him. For the good of the people.”
“You’re mad,” she muttered.
“Am I? Think about it. Why else would he bring you home after all this time? If not to strike an alliance with the master you call father, the man who stole you away. Bring you back home so you can help them both.”
Her hand paused mid-stroke. “I don’t think so—”
“Think of it, Adelei.” He hugged her closer. “One could spread the Amaskans further than before, and the other has an Amaskan princess to lead the way and conquer the Little Dozen.”
His words carried enough truth to stir the doubt within her. “You have proof of this?”
Prince Gamun grinned against her neck. “I have proof that the King has been changing his borders. The rest, not yet. With your help, we could change that.”
“Where’s the proof on Alexander’s borders?” She tilted her head to see his face, but his eyes were closed. Relaxed. Where her body was shoe tacks, his was a calm river.
"In my suite, of course. I don’t make a habit of carrying around documents like that in enemy territory. If you wish to pay me a visit, I would be willing to show you these documents—”
“And Princess Margaret?”
“A simpleton. A dressed-up waif. Easily broken and discarded.”
Interesting choice of words. I wouldn’t visit your rooms for all the money in this kingdom. His fingers stroked her cheek again to the line of her jaw down and middle of her neck. Adelei tensed, a reaction he felt through her clothing. He released his grip a small amount, and she asked, “And your previous plans to kill me? The Tribor?”
“My father’s plans, not mine. But I can convince him you are worth keeping alive. Long enough for you to kill him. Surely it won’t be the first king you’ve taken out.”
Wrong move.
