The Bridge Kingdom

by Danielle L. Jensen

  But that would accomplish nothing.

  Stopping on the path, she stared up at the sky and took a series of breaths, finding calm in the sea of fire that was her soul. As delightful as gutting her husband would be, it wouldn’t solve Maridrina’s problems. Otherwise, her father would’ve sent an assassin a long time ago to do that very deed. It was not a matter of bringing down a man, but bringing down a kingdom, and to do that, she needed to play the long game. To delay her strike for when it would be most effective. To remember what she’d been trained for and why. To be the woman that her father had created to save their homeland.

  A door slammed behind her, and Lara whirled around, expecting one of the servant women had come to offer her services.

  She could not have been more mistaken.

  The man was naked, save for the towel wrapped around his waist that kept him from being exposed to her entirely. But what she could see was more than enough. Tall and broad-shouldered, his muscled body was as defined as if it were carved from stone, his arms marked with old scars that were white against tanned flesh. And his face . . . Dark hair framed high cheekbones and a strong jaw, which were tempered by full lips. His eyes roved over her, making color rise to her cheeks.

  “Of course of all the rooms she could’ve put you in, she chose that one,” he said, and the familiarity of his voice was like a pail of icy water being dumped over her head as she realized who was standing before her. All she saw now was that wicked mask, and all she heard was Maridrina will starve.

  Lara’s hands twitched to the knives at her waist, but she covered the motion by adjusting the waist of her dress.

  He wasn’t fooled. “Do you even know how to use those?”

  The thought that she could kill this arrogant, condescending man where he stood danced through her head, but Lara only gave him a sweet smile. “I’ve cut my fair share of meat.”

  His eyes brightened with interest. “So the little princess has a backbone after all.” Gesturing to her knives, he said, “I meant, do you know how to fight with them?”

  To say no meant she could never be caught using them in any capacity without outing herself as a liar, so instead Lara cocked one bemused eyebrow. “I was raised to be your queen, not a common soldier.”

  The interest in his eyes flickered out. Which would not do. She was supposed to seduce him and, in doing so, make him trust her. But for that to happen, he had to want her. The misting rain had made the silk of her dress damp, and she could feel it clinging to her breasts. She’d been trained for this. Had sat through countless lessons where she’d been taught precisely what she needed to do to catch a man’s interest. And to keep it. Arching her back, she said, “Are you here to claim what is your due?”

  His expression didn’t shift. If anything, he appeared bored with her. “The only thing I’m due for is a bath before dinner. Dragging your ass back from Southwatch was sweaty business. You’re heavier than you look.”

  Lara’s cheeks flamed.

  “That said, if you are inclined to do the same, you are welcome to go first. Given you haven’t seen a wash in three days, you probably need it more than I do.”

  She stared at him, at a loss for words.

  “But, if you’re only out here to admire the . . . foliage, perhaps you might grant me a modicum of privacy.” He gave her a lazy smile. “Or not. I’m not shy.”

  That was what he expected. For her to be dutiful little Maridrinian wife and attend to his needs, whether she wanted to or not.

  It was what he expected, she thought, watching him watch her, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Thoughts flicked through her mind one after another. Of the clothes he wore, the colors intended to blend into jungle around them. The scars, which had clearly come from battle. The bow he’d held in his hand, ready to use at a heartbeat’s notice. This man is a hunter, she decided. And what he wants is a chase.

  She was more than happy to give him one. Especially if it meant delaying a certain inevitability that she was desperate to avoid.

  “Then you can wait.” She smiled inwardly at the surprise that lit up his eyes. Unbuckling her belt, she dropped the weapons next to the edge of the pool, then turned her back on the king, pushing the straps of her dress off as she did. Peeling the damp silk from her body, Lara kicked the garment aside, feeling his eyes on her as she stepped into the pool, with only her hair hanging to the small of her back to conceal her naked flesh.

  It was scorching hot. A temperature that one needed to ease into, slowly, but Lara gritted her teeth and waded down the steps, only turning when the swirling water covered her breasts.

  The king stared at her. She gave him a serene smile. “I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

  He opened his mouth as though to argue, then shook his head once and turned. Lara allowed him to take three steps before calling out, “Your Majesty.”

  The King of Ithicana turned to regard her, not quite hiding the anticipation in his expression.

  Lara let her head fall back so that the waterfall poured over her hair. “Please leave me the soap. I’m afraid I forgot to bring any out with me.” She hesitated, then added, “The towel, too.”

  The bar landed in the water next to her with a splash. Lara opened her eyes in time to watch him remove the towel from his waist and toss it on a rock, his feet smacking against the path as he strode naked back to his room.

  Biting the insides of her cheeks, Lara struggled to contain her grin. This man might be a hunter. But he was mistaken if he believed she was prey.

  7

  Lara

  Lara stayed in the hot springs until her skin was pink and wrinkled, half to annoy the King of Ithicana and half because the sensation of being wholly immersed in warm water was an unfamiliar delight. In the oasis, bathing had been limited to a basin, a cloth, and lots of vigorous scrubbing.

  Back in her rooms, she took care with her appearance, selecting a sky-blue gown that left her arms and most of her cleavage bare, braiding her wet hair into a coronet that revealed her neck and shoulders. In her trunk was a chest of cosmetics, the false bottom concealing tiny jars of poisons and drugs, from which she tucked a vial into her cleverly designed bracelet. She darkened her lashes and swept gold dust across her skin, staining her lips a rosy pink right as the clock on the desk struck the seventh hour. Then, taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the hallway and followed the smell of food.

  The polished floor of the hall reflected the light from beautiful sconces made of Valcottan glass. The walls were covered with a latticework of thin pieces of amber-colored wood, on which several bright paintings framed with bronze were hung. The end of the hallway led to a kitchen, so she took the door leading left, and found herself in a foyer tiled with marble, a heavy exterior door framed with windows revealing nothing in the growing darkness.

  “Lara.”

  Turning her head at the sound of her name, she looked through the open doors into a large dining room, which was dominated by a beautiful table made of wood inset with squares of enamel, around which a dozen chairs were placed. Ahnna sat with her chair pushed back and a glass balanced on one trousered knee.

  “How was your bath?” The amusement in Ahnna’s eyes suggested she was not unaware of Lara’s conversation with her brother.

  “Delightful, thank—” She broke off with a surprised gasp. Sitting on a chair across from the princess was the largest cat she’d ever seen, at least the size of a dog. Regarding her with golden eyes, it lifted one paw and licked it, proceeding to groom itself at the dinner table. “Good god,” she muttered. “What is that?”

  “That’s Vitex. He’s Aren’s pet.”

  “Pet?”

  The other woman shrugged. “Aren found him abandoned when he was just a kitten. Took him into the house and then couldn’t get the damned creature to leave. He does keep the snakes out, I’ll give him that.”

  Lara watched the animal warily. It was big enough to take down a human, if it got the jump. “Is he friendly?”
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  “Sometimes. Best to let him come to you, though. Now shoo, Vitex. Shoo!” The enormous creature gave her a look of disdain, then hopped off the chair and disappeared from the room.

  Lara sat down across from the princess, taking in the full wall of windows, which she expected showcased an impressive view in the light of day. “Where is everyone?”

  Ahnna took a long mouthful of wine, then picked up the bottle on the center of the table and filled Lara’s glass and her own, the act making Lara blink. In Maridrina, only servants handled a bottle. One did not pour for oneself. She rather thought that her countrymen might perish from thirst before ever breaking with the custom.

  “This is my parents’”—Ahnna broke off with a wince, then corrected herself—“my brother’s private residence, so there isn’t anyone here right now but us three, plus the cook and two servants. And I’ll be gone tomorrow once my hangover wears off.” She lifted her glass. “Cheers.”

  Lara dutifully lifted her own and took a swallow, noting the stemware was also from Valcotta, the wine from Amarid, and unless she missed her mark, the silverware from her homeland. She catalogued the details away for later consideration. Ithicana made the market for most goods, buying at Northwatch, transporting the products through their bridge, then selling them at a premium at Southwatch, only to reverse the process with the southern kingdoms’ exports. Merchants who traveled the length of the bridge paid stiff tolls for the privilege, and they were always kept under guard by Ithicanian soldiers. Ithicana itself exported nothing, but it appeared they had no compunction against importing products from other places.

  “Is the entirety of this island the king’s private domain, then?” Lara asked, wondering when or if the man in question would make an appearance.

  “No. My father built this home for my mother so that she would be comfortable during the times of the year they were here.”

  “Where were they the rest of the time?”

  Ahnna smiled. “Elsewhere.”

  Secrets.

  “Are there others living on this island whom I should be aware of?”

  “Aren’s honor guard is here. You’ll meet them at some point, I imagine.”

  Frustration bit at Lara, and she took another sip of wine to soothe the sensation away. She’d only been here a matter of hours. No one—not even Serin and her father—could expect her to find a way through Ithicana’s defenses in the space of a day. “I look forward to meeting them, I’m sure.”

  Ahnna snorted. “I doubt that. They’re a little rough around the edges compared to what you’re used to, I expect. Though you are something of a mystery.”

  The princess was doing her own digging. Lara smiled. “What of you? You say that you will be leaving tomorrow? Is this island not your home?”

  “I’m the commander at Southwatch.”

  Lara choked on her mouthful of wine. “But you’re a—”

  “Woman?” Ahnna supplied. “You’ll find we hold to a different way of life in Ithicana. What’s between your legs doesn’t determine the path you’ll walk in life. Half the garrison at Southwatch is made up of women.”

  “How liberating.” Lara managed to get the words out between coughs even as she envisioned the horror on her father’s face should he discover the island he’d failed time and again to beat in battle was defended by women.

  “It can be for you, too, should you want it to be.”

  “Don’t make promises we can’t keep, Ahnna,” a male voice said.

  The King of Ithicana strode into the dining room, his dark hair damp from bathing, though she noted his face was still rough with stubble. It gave him a roguish appeal, but she stamped the thought down the moment it rose.

  “What’s wrong with her learning how to wield a weapon? Ithicana’s dangerous. It would be for her own safety.”

  He eyed the table, then sat at the end of it. “It’s not her safety that I’m concerned about.”

  Lara shot him a look of disdain. “You’d fit in well in Maridrina, Your Grace, if the thought of your wife knowing how to wield a knife puts such fear in your heart.”

  “Oh my.” Ahnna filled her glass up to the brim and leaned back in her chair. “I misjudged your wit, Lara.”

  “You’re wasting your breath, Ahnna,” Aren said, ignoring the comment. “Lara believes weapons are the domain of common soldiers and not worthy of her time.”

  “I said no such thing. I said I was trained to be a wife and a queen, not a common soldier.”

  “And just what did that training entail?”

  “Perhaps fate will favor you and one day you’ll find out, Your Majesty. Although as it stands, you’ll need to content yourself with my flawless needlework.”

  Howling with laughter, Ahnna poured herself yet another glass of wine and then filled one up for her brother. “This might help.”

  Aren disregarded them both in favor of the servants who appeared bearing trays of food, which they set down on the table, disappearing only to return again with more. There were fresh fruits and vegetables, all brilliantly colored, as well as large fish still in possession of their heads. One fish sat on a bed of steaming rice, which Lara eyed and then dismissed, her attention snapping to the herb-crusted roast beef, the question of its origins tamping down her anger at the excess of food. Food that could’ve gone to Maridrina.

  She waited for one of the servants to serve her, but they all departed. Then the royal siblings began helping themselves, loading their plates with salad and fish and beef all at the same time with no regard to the order of things. “This is more diverse fare than I’m used to,” she said. “I’ve never had fish before, although I suppose it’s a staple here.”

  Aren lifted his head, eyeing the offerings, and Lara saw the corner of his eye tick. “There are some islands with wild boar. Goat. Chicken. Snake is often on the menu. Everything else is an import—usually from Harendell via the market at Northwatch.”

  Serin’s spies reported that not all the goods that entered the bridge at Northwatch exited at Southwatch, indicating that the Ithicanians used the structure to transport products within their own kingdom. There are ways in and out of the bridge beyond the openings at Northwatch and Southwatch, Serin had shouted continually at Lara and her sisters. Those are the weak points. Find your way in.

  Taking healthy servings of everything, Lara cut into her slice of beef, watching the juices pool beneath. Then she took a bite. Smiling at one of the servants who’d reappeared with more wine, she said, “This is delicious.”

  None of them spoke for a long time, and for her part, Lara’s silence was a result of her mouth being full of food. It was better than anything she’d ever had, fresh and seasoned with spices she couldn’t even name. This is what possessing the bridge meant, she thought, imagining all this food arriving in Maridrina.

  “Why did your father keep you in the middle of the Red Desert?” Aren finally asked.

  “For our safety.”

  “Our?”

  Give the truth, when you can, Serin’s voice instructed from her thoughts.

  She swallowed a bit of fish that was drenched with a citrus-butter. “Mine and my sisters’. Well, half-sisters.”

  Both siblings stopped chewing.

  “How many children was . . . is he hiding out there?” Aren asked.

  “Twelve, including myself.” Lara took a sip of wine, then refilled her plate. “My father selected from amongst us the girl he believed would be most fitting as your queen.”

  Aren was staring at her with a blank expression while his twin nodded sagely before asking, “The most beautiful, you mean?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.”

  “The most intelligent?”

  Lara shook her head, thinking of how swiftly Sarhina and Marylyn could crack codes. And build them.

  “Why you, then?” Aren interjected.

  “It wasn’t my place to question the reasons behind his decision.”

  “Surely you have an opinion on the matter?�
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  “Certainly: that my opinion doesn’t matter.”

  “What if I asked you for it?” He frowned. “I am asking for it.”

  “My father is the longest ruling monarch in Maridrina’s history. His wisdom and understanding of the relationship between our two kingdoms is what guided him to choose me to be your wife.”

  Ahnna abruptly jerked toward her brother, her voice urgent as she said, “Aren, we’ve been infiltrated. There’s a spy amongst us.”

  Lara felt her stomach drop as Aren’s eyes turned on her. Her fingers twitched toward the knives at her waist, ready to fight her way out if she needed to.

  “There’s no other explanation for it,” Ahnna said. “How else could that deceitful prick of a king have known which daughter would make the absolute worst wife for you?”

  Snorting, Aren shook his head. Lara hid her relief behind another mouthful of fish, which now held the same appeal as swallowing sawdust.

  “No wonder he looked so damn smug at the wedding,” the princess continued. “He probably figured you’d send her back after a week.”

  “Ahnna.” The King of Ithicana’s voice was full of warning.

  “It’s amazing, really. It’s almost as though she were created to drive you into an early grave.”

  More accurate than you know, Lara thought.

  “Ahnna, if you don’t shut your mouth, I’m going to drown you in your wine.”

  Ahnna held up her glass in toast. “You’re welcome to try, brother dearest.”

  Lara chose that moment to interrupt, while at the same time, refilling both the siblings’ glasses. Pouring the wine herself made it an easy thing to deposit several drops from the tiny vial hidden in her hand into each, ensuring they’d both sleep heavily tonight. “Speaking of my father, will you allow me to correspond with him?”

  They stared at her, their displeasure at her request clear as they both drained their glasses, seemingly unaware of how they mirrored each other. Lara smiled internally, knowing the narcotic mixed with the alcohol would do its duty well.