Page 103 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

She took a deep breath, let rage become her armor, and smiled, cruel and vicious.

“Let her in,” Tal said. “She’s ready.”

She swept into the room, bowed to Mother first, and then faced Alaric and Vahn, who were flanked by a trio of guards in red-and-black uniforms. Alaric was a large, broad-shouldered man with long graying blond hair. Silver charms with bits of colorful jewels were tied into his flowing locks. His brown eyes found hers, and his brows lifted as he took in her proud expression.

“You’ll have your hands full with this one,” he said in a voice that rumbled from his chest. A light of challenge entered his eyes as Charis held his stare. “You ought to bow to a sovereign, girl.”

Charis’s smile widened. “Indeed, you should.”

He barked a laugh. “I like her. A sword for a spine, this one. What do you say, Vahn? Going to bow to your future wife?”

Charis turned, her mouth dry, her heart pounding, and found a young man who looked remarkably like Alaric. His hair was light brown instead of graying blond, and it was just past his shoulders, but there were three charms tied into his locks, and his eyes were the same shade of brown as his father’s. He took his time studying her, and then he bowed his head a fraction. Just enough to show nominal respect.

She had no intention of doing the same. She outranked him, and she refused to start their relationship giving the impression that he was her equal. Instead, she softened her smile and said, “Welcome to Arborlay.”

“Let’s see this contract, then,” Alaric said. “I want to send a palloren back to my kingdom once we’ve signed it and these two have made their vows.”

Charis froze, her eyes instantly seeking out Tal. He looked as if he’d been struck. Today was supposed to be a treaty signing only. Not the actual wedding. Had Alaric misunderstood? Or was he trying to push the timetable forward for his own reasons?

Alaric laughed, a cold, cruel sound that reminded Charis of Mother when she’d found proof of someone’s wrongdoing. “What have we here?” He walked toward Tal.

Tal straightened, and something dark and dangerous flashed across his face.

“My bodyguard,” Charis said, moving to stand between them before Alaric could reach Tal.

“Seems like he can’t get enough of looking at you.”

“He’d be a pretty poor bodyguard if he didn’t watch out for me,” she said crisply.

“Alaric, the contract is here.” Mother called the king’s attention to the table that rested against the far wall between two magnificent windows.

“I want this boy relieved of his duties once the vows are spoken,” Alaric said.

“You do not have any control over our staff.” Letha’s tone could cut glass.

“I haven’t signed the treaty yet, have I?”

“Father, it’s fine.” Vahn’s smooth, polished voice lingered a little too long on the Caleran vowels, but overall, his accent was nearly flawless. “Let the boy stay if that’s what Charis wants. Once she gets to know our family better, she may get more comfortable with the idea of listening to your staffing suggestions.”

Tal’s expression looked carved from stone.

Charis inclined her head to Vahn in a silent thank-you. He smiled as if secretly delighted with her.

“Looks like she’s already got you bowing to her wishes.” Alaric turned away from Tal and slapped Vahn on the back. “’Course I see why, but don’t let a pretty face lead you into bad decisions.”

“We have refreshments laid out in the adjoining room,” Letha said. “Once we sign the contract, we’ll have a light lunch, and then we have a few activities planned for this afternoon and evening.”

“As long as one of those activities is a wedding,” Alaric said as he took the quill and signed his name to the treaty, just beneath Letha’s.

Vahn signed next, and then handed the quill to Charis. His fingers brushed against hers and lingered. She fought the urge to yank her hand away. Instead, she kept her expression smooth as glass as she bent over the table, dipped the quill into the inkpot, and signed her name.

As she made the last stroke, Alaric and Letha congratulated each other and then began moving toward the adjoining room. Charis set the quill down slowly and stared at her name.

It was done.

There was no reprieve. No backing out.

Her knees wobbled, and she pressed her hands against the table before she could show weakness.

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