For two hours, I guarded the prince and his fiancée while the governors chatted about useless drivel. The king simply watched, his steely gaze shifting between faces as if he expected one of them to melt off. Occasionally, Bastian would lean closer to Karina and comment on the food—what it was, if she liked it—but otherwise, nothing eventful happened.
But, once the final course of miniature cakes drizzled with melted chocolate was served, the king pounded on the table. One loud, resounding bang.
“There you have it,” he said in a stiff voice. “A formal introduction to Jonty’s daughter, future princess of Eradrist. I expect you will accept the decision.”
“My King,” Governor Hesby said, pausing to wipe his mouth. “We have seen the girl, but are no closer to knowing if she is suitable.”
“She will become suitable,” the king yelled, spittle flying. His voice echoed throughout the banquet hall, leaving everyone frozen in shock. “I am king, Hesby. Not you. Bastian marries the girl and the rebels are appeased. If she has any defiant ideas—” the king swung his gaze to Karina and lifted his chin, “they will be dealt with accordingly.”
The urge to tear Karina out of her chair and drag her from the room overwhelmed me. I had to dig my heels into the ground to keep myself still. What could I do, really? The king was the king—free to threaten anyone he liked—and Karina was Bastian’s to look after now. Princesses were assigned their own guards. Not Wings, but still highly trained.
With that, the king stood, his chair scraping across the floor, and strode from the banquet hall with both Wings close at his heel.
The governors erupted in harsh whispers. Bastian gripped the edge of the table and stood. He extended his hand to Karina. “Allow me to escort you safely back to your palace, my lady.”
She removed the folded napkin from her lap, set it on the table, and placed her hand in his. Without thought, I pulled the chair away from the table so she could stand, and followed the couple from the room with every eye hot at our backs.
“You’ll have to forgive my father,” Bastian said as soon as we cleared the Main Palace. “The governors have been extra difficult lately.”
“I understand,” she said in a voice I wasn’t used to. Too quiet. Too passive.
I narrowed my eyes at her back where swooping strands of gems hung against smooth pale skin. They seemed to dance along the curve of her spine, barely touching, only teasing. And I wanted to replace them with my fingers.
Fucking hell.
What was I doing? What was she doing, messing with my head? She understood Bastian’s excuses for the king? She understood nothing. Not here in the palace. Even I was having trouble wrapping my mind around things at the moment. If the governors were so against the engagement, who presented the idea to the king? Someone who was able to convince him that the rebels would back off if he agreed. A lie, of course, but someone close to the king made him believe it.
“I hope we’ll get to know each other over the coming months,” Bastian told Karina as we walked. “With so many meetings scheduled for me and all your lessons, it might be difficult. The governors are also insisting that we spend no time alone to protect both of us.”
“I see.” She glanced over her shoulder at me.
“Saer doesn’t count,” Bastian said, throwing me an unamused smile. “They don’t trust him because he’s too loyal to me, so next time we see each other, there will need to be someone else to chaperone.”
My eyes darted to the side to avoid responding. Too loyal to him. Except for all the lies.
“My Lady!” Two maids rushed from the gates of the Women’s Palace and stopped just long enough to curtsy to the prince. They were the same voices that called for her in the garden.
Karina turned to Bastian and gave a small curtsy. “Thank you for bringing me back, Your Highness.”
“Of course.” He lifted her hand and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of it. My eyes were glued to the movement, jealousy itching inside my chest. “Until next time.”
“Yes.” She blushed and gave another curtsy, this one seemingly directed at both of us. “Goodnight.”
Then the ladies whisked her back into the Women’s Palace. Before they closed the gate, I heard one of the ladies chide, “you were supposed to come back with the duchess.”
As if Bastian and I weren’t acceptable escorts? I scowled at the round-faced woman through the wrought iron scrollwork and, as if she felt my irritation, she peeked up. A small yelp followed before she sprinted to catch up with Karina and the other maid.
“Coming?” Bastian asked.
I jerked at the sound of his voice a few paces behind me. Shit. I’d been distracted. “Yes.”
“Sorry about dinner,” he said as we followed the path from the Women’s Palace to the Crown Prince’s. “I could only push him so far.”
“You shouldn’t have pushed him at all. He already hates me being in the Main Palace, but to have me sit at his table?”
Bastian sighed. “You’re right. I know you are.”
This wasn’t right. Lying about Karina, keeping it from him like this. Faramond would kill me if I jeopardized his plan, but what about doing the right thing? King Edric distrusted Bastian, thinking he would steal the throne one day, and I was a spy. The prince deserved to have someone he could truly rely on, someone to love without conditions. I opened my mouth to tell him about what had happened in the gardens when we rounded a corner, meeting two lords.
“Your Highness,” they said in unison, giving a quick bow before continuing on their way. I wanted to ask Bastian about the tension between the king and the governors, but not here. If anyone overheard, rumors would spread and the Red Asters would hear.
“She’s quite pretty,” Bastian said softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “Don’t you think?”
I held my breath. “Who?”
“Lady Karina.” He shot me a look as if it should’ve been obvious. It was obvious.
“Oh.”
“I see,” Bastian said with a smirk. “Still thinking about that noblewoman, are you? Will you tell me who she is yet?”
My cheeks burned hot. Yes, I was still thinking about her. Because, despite how pissed off I was, despite the confusion raging through me, I still wanted to touch her. To taste her lips again. But I couldn’t. Never again. With a silent sigh, I resigned myself to keeping another secret. Bastian could never know about the time I spent with Karina in the garden, no matter how much I wanted to tell him.
“No,” I lied. “And I absolutely will not.”
Chapter Eight
The warm scent of cloves filled my private quarters as I rubbed a thin coat of oil over my blades. I wasn’t cleaning them to ensure I didn’t run into Karina—at least, not only to avoid her. It was important to maintain my collection. So, I sat in front of the open window, soaking up the morning sun while Bastian met the king, with all my weapons laid out on a thin blanket. A long sword and a saber, a dozen different daggers, and several throwing knives. Propped against the wall beside me was a bow and quiver of arrows—there wouldn’t be time to inspect them before lunch today.
Running the cloth down my favored blade—the falchion—I tilted it, inspecting the sheen along the curved tip, when my door flew open. I was on my feet and ready to attack until I recognized Bastian. Then my focus shifted to the door and windows, looking for the threat that sent him barging in here.
“What’s going on?” I spun around and slammed the window shut, grabbing the first weapon I could reach. “How did you get here from the Main Palace? Where are the guards?”
“Relax,” he breathed. “I snuck out of the meetings.”
I turned slowly and glared at him, adrenaline still pumping. “You… what?”
Bastian shrugged. “I excused myself to take a piss and bolted.”
“You walked all the way from the Main Palace? Alone? And no one stopped you?”
“I’m stealthier than you think.” He moved around the room, taking in the arra
y of blades, my small yet comfortable bed, and the lack of anything else. “I haven’t been in here in ages. It hasn’t changed.”
Of course it hadn’t changed. The room housed me for a handful of hours every night and a few mornings a month while I cleaned my collection—I didn’t care if the walls were bare and the furniture sparse as long as there was somewhere to rest my head. Somewhere that was mine.
“Cleaning your blades?” Bastian asked.
I plopped back to the floor and crossed my arms. “This is the first place they’re going to come when they realize you’re gone, you know. I’ll be expected to track you down.”
Bastian lowered himself into a rickety chair in the corner of the room and waved his hand in the air. “Good thing you won’t have far to look, eh?”
“Somehow this is going to be my fault,” I grumbled. When we were barely ten, he’d run off, leaving his tutor lost in a hedge maze, and the king had blamed me despite the fact that I was training when it happened. They’d found Bastian napping in his own bed, and made me sleep outside his door for two weeks. In the middle of the rainy season. It was fucking miserable.
Bastian scooted down in the chair to rest his head on the back. “I couldn’t do it today.”
“Do what?”
“Listen to them bicker.” He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “You saw them last night.”
Grabbing the oiled cloth, I resumed shining my falchion. “What was that about?”
“The governors have been getting a bit too vocal lately. They either can’t agree with each other or they can’t agree with my father, and forget finding a compromise. My father announced the engagement without consulting them which only made everything worse.”
“He didn’t consult the governors about your fiancée?” My eyes widened. That was news… News Faramond would need to know and I felt slightly inclined to give it to him. If the king and the governors were at odds, things could get extremely messy. Telling Faramond something he would eventually discover anyway could prove my worth to the cause. Save me from killing Pevran.
“Lady Karina was suggested by Governor Pevran but quickly dismissed by the rest. My father went ahead and secured the engagement without convincing everyone else to get behind the idea.”
Pevran… Was that why I had to kill her? She’d brokered the engagement, then tried to lower taxes. Did she think Faramond would let it go since she’d gotten the Red Asters such a big win?
“Have you seen Lady Karina since last night?” Bastian asked quietly.
I flicked a quick look up from my knives to find him staring at the ceiling. “Why would I have seen her?”
Bastian shrugged. “She seemed genuine; don’t you think?”
“If you think so.” She seemed like a good fucking actress.
“The court will eat her alive.”
It absolutely would. Unless she ate them first. It wasn’t clear how devious Karina was yet. I spun a throwing knife around my finger and said nothing.
“They’re putting her through intensive training before she makes a public debut.”
I snorted. She’d said as much in the garden, but something told me that no amount of tutoring would be enough. Last night, she’d handled herself well, but she also barely spoke. A public debut meant every noble would be interrogating her without it seeming like an interrogation. I wasn’t sure anyone could be taught to recognize the difference.
Bastian sat forward and cleared his throat, speaking in an uneven voice. “Can I ask for a favor?”
“Fuck no,” I blurted. “The last time you asked me for a favor, I was caned.”
“Sneaking into one of my father’s private parties was ill-thought out, but how was I supposed to know he invited an entire whorehouse to the palace? I didn’t even know what a prostitute was before that.”
“Hence the caning,” I deadpanned. “I was accused of corrupting you.”
“We were young and stupid. Lessons learned.” He winced, seemingly replaying the entire evening in his head.
Neither of us had seen a naked woman before that party, let alone what they did with naked men. Of course, a few years later, the royal brothel was open to us, but it was one hell of an anatomy lesson at the time. I could never get the image of King Edric’s hairy ass out of my head though, no matter how hard I tried.
I exhaled. “What’s this favor then?”
“Get to know her.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“I want to know what I’m getting into. Lady Karina seemed kind enough last night, but what if it’s an act? You can find out what she’s really like better than I can—she’ll be on guard around me and we have to be chaperoned. But you don’t have that stipulation. Spend time with her, see what she’s like and how she treats the servants.”
Was he insane? He wanted someone else to spend quality time with his fiancée? Get to know her through someone else’s eyes? And, of all people, me? Yes, I was his Wing. Trusted. Loyal. But I’d also fucking kissed her. A secret I’d need to take to my grave if I didn’t want to lose my head.
“Wouldn’t asking one of the ladies make more sense?”
“I don’t trust anyone else,” he said softly. “If they’re secretly working for a governor or one of the nobles, they’ll feed me lies.”
The sound of heavy boots came from outside, saving me from answering. “Guards are here for you.”
Bastian gave a weary sigh.
“Wing!” A guard called. “Come out quickly! The prince is missing!”
I pointed my dagger at Bastian. “See that? Unlike you, they’re smart enough not to burst in here unannounced.”
“You’re so full of threats,” he said with a smirk. Then he stood, stalked to the door, and swung it open to find six frantic guards approaching. “Missing, am I?”
“Your Highness.” They bowed low, fist over their hearts.
I stood, tucked three daggers into my boot, slid a freshly-cleaned sword into an empty scabbard, and followed Bastian outside. “I’ll escort him back to the Main Palace.” Then, quieter so only Bastian could hear, I added, “And I’ll see what I can learn.”
Because apparently, I had no sense of self preservation. It was an opportunity though. One to discover what Karina’s intentions were and how embroiled she was in Aster plots. No one could accuse me of anything if Bastian asked me to see her. To essentially spy on her.
“Thank you,” he said with such relief that I almost felt guilty for wanting to refuse.
Almost.
Because either way, I was guilty of something.
Chapter Nine
After safely returning Bastian to the Main Palace to be reprimanded by the king, I waltzed through the gates of the Women’s Palace. The guards exchanged long looks as I passed, but said nothing. Did nothing. I wondered if they even knew who they were protecting.
Skipping silently up the handful of stone stairs, I made my way to the already-open doors of the palace. The main room was enormous with white decorative pillars, hand-painted gardens on the walls, and large vases full of lilies on every flat surface. All of the delicate furniture, draped with pastel fabrics and hanging beads, was shoved against the far wall. Karina shouldn’t live here—she wasn’t married to Bastian yet nor was she of current royal blood—but King Edric had moved her in anyway.
“Impossible!”
I winced at the old woman’s voice as I stepped over the threshold. It belonged to one of the few adults I’d liked growing up. Respected, even. But Duchess Fransabelle was also terrifying if you were up to no good. More than once, she’d caught Bastian and I catching frogs in the garden fountain and dragged us out by our ears.
The duchess leaned heavily on an ivory cane, looking older than I remembered. She’d retired to her country estate when I was sixteen so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that her wrinkles had deepened. Or that she wore a simple gray wig, as many older nobles did to hide their thinning hair.
“Is she giving you a hard ti
me, Your Grace?” I called out, hoping to break the tension.
The old woman spun, her dark red mourning gown brushing across the floor, and beamed. “Lord Tufaro. Is that you?”
Karina’s stare burned the side of my face, and I wanted to meet it. To let her see me as a Wing instead of the man in the garden. But I ignored it and strode to the end of the room where they both stood. Taking the duchess’s hand, I kissed her fingerless lace gloves. “You look well, Duchess Fransie.”
She tutted. “I’m an old trout and we both know it. You, on the other hand.” The old woman stepped back and scanned me up and down before tutting again. “A shame you’re unable to marry. You would make beautiful babies.”
If I were allowed. Which I wasn’t. I didn’t particularly want children with things being as they were. Faramond would use the baby against me or, when I inevitably was caught one day, they would suffer for my choices. Perhaps if things were different…
“Now, now. I’d make a horrible parent with all the sharp objects I keep lying around,” I chided. There were few people in the palace that I spoke with casually, but the duchess was different. She’d been something like a mother growing up. An absent mother, given how often she was actually at the palace, but when she did visit, she was warm and welcoming. And she snuck me snacks. “What brings you to Ora Et?”
She made a disgruntled sound and motioned at Karina where she stood a few feet away, hands in fists. “Look at her. They gave me this and asked me to make her a princess.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, casting a sideways glance at Karina. My chest tightened at the disheartened look on her face, but part of me also enjoyed her obvious discomfort. The way she refused to meet my eyes as I appraised her alongside Fransanbelle. How she shifted uncomfortably. I wondered what Fransabelle saw in her. Because, despite knowing she was deceitful, I also found her intriguing. Karina wasn’t stupid, and she was clearly making an effort. Dinner with the governors wasn’t a complete disaster. So, I added, “She might surprise you.”
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