Page 10 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

Charis swept her gaze over the dress in her handmaiden’s arms and bared her teeth in a vicious smile. The silk was the swirling deep blue of the sea just before a hurricane hit. The bodice was covered in filigree crafted from the same silver used to make the royal swords. The long sleeves ended in metallic points at the tops of her hands. And bright shards of the same silver were sewn into the hem so that it sounded like a sword being drawn every time the dress brushed the floor.

Milla was right. It was perfect.

“Draw a bath, Milla. And I’ll wear a general’s braid today. It’s a fitting hairstyle for a dress made to win battles.”

As Milla began working the pomade out of the princess’s hair, Charis leaned against the tub and let rage become her armor.

The Willowthorn family was hard to kill. Harder still to break. King Alaric Penbyrn was going to find that the one thing worse than killing the royal family of Calera was being foolish enough to leave any of them alive.

Five

CHARIS LEFT HER bedchamber, flanked once more by Reuben and Elsbet, and found Tal, one of Father’s nighttime guards, waiting beside the guards’ station at the end of the hall.

“Tal?” She glanced around quickly, but he seemed to be alone. The early morning sunshine spilling in through the windows gleamed against his pale blond hair. He was about her age with the lithe muscles of a farmhand and the shoulders of a swordsman. He’d joined Father’s staff last year—another refugee from the war-torn north. Charis didn’t see him often—she rarely had evenings free to spend with Father—but it wasn’t like Tal to come to the princess’s chambers unless Father was with him.

“He isn’t with me,” Tal said, and her gaze snapped back to his. “I refused to let him come.”

“You refused . . . What is going on?”

“The king is very anxious. It’s affecting his health, Your Highness.” Tal sounded worried. “I thought it best not to have him walk all the way to your wing, but he only stayed behind because I promised I would bring you to him.”

“Of course.” Charis turned toward the passage that led to the east wing.

Reuben shifted beside her, a subtle move that still managed to appear threatening. “No one brings the princess anywhere. Especially this morning.”

Charis waved him off. “If Father wants—”

“Especially this morning.” Reuben glanced at Charis and then said, “Pardon my interruption, Your Highness.”

“I never suggested she should come alone,” Tal said, his quiet voice steely with determination. “But the king is very anxious. Ilsa is out doing the shopping, and he refuses to allow me to send for her. I can’t get his heart rate or breathing under control.”

Charis began walking swiftly. She didn’t blame Reuben for his worries. If two spies had made their way into the palace, there could very well be another. But she trusted that Reuben and Elsbet would stay by her side. If it was a trap, both Tal and the spy were as good as dead, though she’d have felt more secure if she had her own weapon.

Making a note to alter all future attire to include either her daggers or her sword, Charis hurried down the long hallway. Elsbet and Reuben hurried to keep up, and Tal moved past her to lead the way, his hand on his sword hilt as well.

Father lived in a wing on the third floor of the eastern side of the palace. He and Mother had been estranged for as long as Charis could remember, and the queen cared so little for what her husband did with his time that the only guards on this side of the palace were members of the king’s own staff who’d been handpicked from his beloved northern territory. Besides a half dozen guards who split coverage between a day shift and night shift, he kept a maid and his nurse companion, Ilsa, and that was it. None of them reported to the queen.

“Why is he so anxious?” Charis asked as they moved past the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the distant blue ribbon of the Draiel Sea.

“He learned about last evening’s attack,” Tal said as they approached Father’s wing. A single guard stood watch at the entrance. The woman nodded to Tal and then resumed slowly looking from the stairs to the long hall that ran from one end of the wing to the other.

Tal pushed open the heavy carved door that led into Father’s chambers.

“How did he find out?” It wasn’t like Ilsa to give the king upsetting news and then leave him alone to go shopping.

Tal met her gaze as she moved through the doorway. “A page arrived this morning with a message.”

Charis rounded on Reuben, her voice vibrating with fury. “You sent a report about the attack to my father? Are you trying to kill him?”

Reuben’s lip curled. “Are you, Your Highness?”

She drew back as if struck. “How dare you speak to me that way!”

“My apologies, Your Highness.” He didn’t sound the least bit sorry. “But we have no idea how the spies slipped past security yesterday. We have to assume more could be coming. I had to operate under the belief that every member of the royal family was a target, and I acted accordingly.”

“Then you should have told me what you were doing so I could go to his chambers immediately.”

“We needed you contained and safe.” Reuben held her gaze, his hard, brown eyes unflinching. “Don’t worry. I said nothing about the woman in your chambers, so he doesn’t have that additional worry.”

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