Page 110 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

When the meal was finished and the queen rose at the head of the table, the rest of the attendees got to their feet and bowed until she’d left the room.

“I’ll send the message by palloren before Father and I leave for home,” Vahn said quietly beside her. “And I suggest you and I begin corresponding regularly so that we can get to know each other and align our mutual interests.” He shot a distinctly unfriendly look at Tal, but his smile seemed genuine when he turned back to Charis. Bowing, he said, “I look forward to sparring with you again in the spring, Your Highness.”

She inclined her head graciously. Not a bow, but a token of respect for his future rank in Calera. “Until then.”

Turning, she left the room, Tal at her side.

“What did you say to Vahn to make him so mad at me?” he asked softly as they moved through the hall.

“I told him it was hard to be interested in him when I’d had the real thing last night.”

Tal choked on a laugh. “You’re my favorite person. You know that, right?”

She smiled.

“He seemed to have a lot to say today.”

“He did.” She glanced at Tal as they entered the corridor that led to her private office. “Including that he is willing to pay the Rakuuna jewels to turn them from enemies to allies. He’s sending a message to that effect to the armada today.”

“That should solve the problem at sea.” Tal sounded carefully neutral, and Charis couldn’t blame him. It was hard to admit that the cruel, callous Vahn of yesterday had actually volunteered to do something that would save both his people and hers.

“It should. Which just leaves us with a traitor to catch.”

“And kill,” he said. “Or, at the very least, maim.”

“You sound like Holland.”

He gave her a crooked little smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Forty

“IS IT STRANGE that I’m looking forward to celebrating the Sister Moons Festival?” Charis asked. “I know we still have to find the traitor, and that the odious Vahn Penbyrn will be back in the spring, but right now”—she wiggled in her vanity chair, and Tal rolled his eyes as the hair he’d been trying to style slid free—“the war is over, Montevallo’s shipment of jewels should stop the ship sinkings, and we have all winter to be together. I’m happy.”

He met her gaze and smiled. “I am too. Who cares if it’s temporary?”

A shadow crossed his face, and he looked at her hair again. She raised a hand and wrapped it around his. “All right, it’s my turn to invite my handsome secret keeper to tell me what’s eating away at his thoughts.”

He spun another curl into a rose above Charis’s left ear and pinned it into place. “It’s . . . complicated.”

“What part of our lives these past few months has been uncomplicated?”

“My feelings for you.” Another curl was spun into a rose. “Some days they’re the only thing I’m sure of.” He looked at her. “I had absolutely no intention of falling in love with you.”

“Well, I can be pretty irresistible.”

“If by irresistible, we mean irritating, fierce, unrelenting, uncompromising, challenging, compassionate, intelligent, and not quite as good at the seven rathmas as me, then yes. You’re irresistible.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, but the shadow was still in his eyes.

The annual Sister Moons feast was celebrated across Calera to usher out the old year and bring in the new. Dances were held in the streets, merchants sold roasted nuts, spiced pastries, and cups of piping hot cider from tables on street corners, and one noble family in each city hosted a ball. This year was the Farragins’ turn to host, and Nalani had been talking about it since their name was drawn at the end of last year’s feast.

“You still look sad,” Charis said.

He fixed a drooping rose, and then said quietly, “What do you do if you know something is coming, something unavoidable, and there’s nothing you can do to change it? Do you confront it early in hopes that somehow ripping the bandage off will start the healing process? Or do you wait until the last possible second, right before disaster strikes, and hope for the best?”

She set down the bracelet she was fiddling with. “Are we talking about my wedding?”

He kept looking at her hair. “Do you ever wish you could be someone else? Just for a night?” The raw pain in his voice brought tears to her eyes.

“Someone who isn’t bound by duty and by promises that put others first at the expense of your own heart?” she asked.

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