Page 33 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

“The queen is recovering well,” Charis assured them. “And I’m fine.”

“Well, obviously you’re fine.” Holland sounded furious. “I mean look at you! Too thin, sleeping in the middle of the day, and keeping terrible secrets from your best friends. You’re the picture of fine.”

Charis blinked. “I handled it, Holland.”

“Clearly.”

“How did you handle it?” Nalani asked.

“I . . .” Her throat closed on the words. On the explanation that the woman had died in Charis’s bathtub and that she still had nightmares about blood filling her chambers until she drowned in it. That the cost of the spy’s attack had been the lives of people she’d loved.

Her heart was beating too fast, a caged bird trapped within, and her fingers felt like ice. Somehow the thought of talking about it, of putting it all into words that couldn’t be taken back, felt like a test of courage she wasn’t sure she could pass.

“Charis?” Holland’s voice had softened, and it was his uncharacteristic gentleness that loosened her tongue.

“Reuben killed the assassin in the parlor and then killed his accomplice in my bathtub.”

“In your own bathtub?” Holland sounded impressed.

“How can you even face going into your bath chamber now?” Nalani asked.

Charis lifted her chin. “It’s my bath chamber. My rooms. My life. I’m not going to cower in fear because some Montevallian dogs attacked the royal family and paid the price.”

“Good for you.” Holland nodded his approval. “But then why aren’t you eating or sleeping well?”

She couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t push the truth past her lips without letting the grief out at the same time. If she let the grief take her now, how could she be calm and collected in time for the people at the refugee camp who needed a pillar of strength in their princess?

Tal adjusted his seat, his leg once again brushing hers. She looked to him, and his dark eyes found hers and held. There was a shadow of grief in them that matched what lived in her, and for the first time she wondered what memories kept him up at night. What pain pressed against his heart, haunting his nightmares and driving his choices.

“Your Highness, would you like me to explain further?” His voice was soft.

She shouldn’t. It was unthinkable to rely on him instead of finding the strength within herself to speak with the calm dispassion Mother required of her. But her throat was tight with unshed tears, and they were just minutes away from a group of weary, terrified people who needed her strength.

“Please,” she said.

He inclined his head and then turned to the twins. “The queen decided all staff on duty in the ladies’ parlor and in Charis’s wing that evening had failed to keep the royal family safe. As a result, they were each executed the next morning. This included her two evening guards and her handmaiden, Milla.”

Nalani sucked in a little breath. “Oh, not sweet Milla!” Her eyes swam with tears.

“I now live in Milla’s old room with the job of making sure another assassin doesn’t get a chance to hurt the princess.” He risked a quick glance at Charis. “And I’ve expanded my duties to include making sure she eats and gets some rest because these past few weeks have been a nightmare for her.”

“I’m so sorry, Charis.” Nalani knelt on the carriage floor and gathered the princess’s hands in her own. “I can come stay with you too, if that would help.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor across your doorway,” Holland said. “I welcome any Montevallian to try crossing the threshold.”

Charis swallowed past the knot of tears in her throat. “Thank you both, but just offering your friendship and support is enough.”

“I’m glad you’re with her now, Tal.” Nalani let go of Charis to take Tal’s hands instead.

Tal’s brows rose as he stared at his hands in hers. “I . . . that’s very . . . thank you.”

“Be sure you don’t fail to protect her,” Holland said. “I’m just starting to like you. I’d hate to have to kill you.”

Tal grinned. “I’d hate to be killed.”

The carriage rumbled to a stop, and voices cut through the afternoon air. Nalani clambered back into her seat as the door opened and a footman bowed. “Your Highness.”

Turning to Tal, Charis said, “Thank you.” And then she climbed out of the carriage and prepared to face the sea of refugees who were desperately hoping their princess could give them hope.

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