Thorsby smoothed his finely pressed trousers and adjusted his carefully coiffed black curls before taking a seat opposite the princess. They chatted about the rapidly cooling weather, the fact that there had been a lull in battles in the northern territories, and the problem of their merchant ships being trapped in their harbor.
Once tea arrived, Lord Thorsby spooned a generous heap of sugar crystals into his cup, took a sip, and then set the cup back on its saucer.
“Now that we won’t be interrupted, it’s time to discuss the real reason you came to see me,” Charis said.
“Yes, Your Highness.” His fingers fussed with the seam of his pants, creasing and re-creasing as if he had something on his mind. When he noticed her watching him, he reached for his tea again.
Charis cocked her head. “Why are you nervous around me today, Lord Thorsby?”
Thorsby choked on his mouthful of tea and reached for the silk handkerchief in his pocket as he coughed. “You are quite direct, Your Highness.”
“That can hardly come as a surprise, Lord Thorsby. You’ve known me for . . . How long has it been since you were appointed head of the royal council?”
“Seven years.” Lord Thorsby tucked his handkerchief away. “I’ve had quite a bit of experience helping to manage the affairs of the kingdom, as you know.”
“Certainly.” Charis’s tone was pleasant, but the inexorable demand for the truth was there.
Thorsby drew in a deep breath and then seemed to deflate before her eyes. “King Alaric has responded to our offer.”
The world froze, a crystallized moment where time slowed to the quiet, infinite space between heartbeats, and she was caught between the life she’d thought she might have and the one she would endure if it would bring her people peace. She was exquisitely aware of Tal’s silent presence.
“And?” Her voice was calm, a slick coating over the impossible chaos within.
If King Alaric accepted, she was destined for a life with her enemy at her side. No rest. No space to breathe without watching for his knife in her back.
But if Alaric declined, she had no way to save her kingdom.
“He accepted, Your Highness. We are already at work arranging for him to visit Arborlay and sign the treaty.” Thorsby’s lips thinned as though he’d forcibly closed his mouth before he could say more.
And just like that, everything changed.
She was betrothed to her enemy. There would be no dropping of her guard, ever. No softness. No giving in to the tiny voice of longing in her heart.
A pang of grief stole her breath, and she let it cut her. Let the quiet wishes, the well of loneliness, bleed. Her teacup clattered against its saucer, spilling dark liquid onto the floor. She set it onto the table and folded her hands so Lord Thorsby wouldn’t see them tremble.
This was an impossible road to walk. To spend her life married to the son of the man who’d tried to kill her, who’d wrecked her people and who might be responsible for destroying her allies at sea. To give his son a crown and a title, to stand by his side as if they both deserved to rule Calera.
To turn away from the chance that one day she’d fall in love with a man like her father who’d see the best in her and help anchor her to it.
The grief seized her throat in a crushing grip and stung her eyes. She tilted her head back to look at the ceiling, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling.
And then, slowly, she straightened her spine. Forced a breath past the tightness of her throat, and then another.
She was her people’s rage. Her kingdom’s vicious protector.
She never flinched. Even when she wanted to.
“Good,” she said, the word falling from her lips with all the finality of a death sentence. “Then we begin negotiations immediately. The top item on the list is that all attacks at sea must stop.”
Thorsby cleared his throat and reached for his tea. Taking a hasty sip, he said, “The queen already sent that demand several days ago as an addendum to the peace treaty offering. King Alaric claims no knowledge of or responsibility for any attacks at sea.”
Charis frowned. “Could he be lying?”
Except . . . what would he have to gain? If it was discovered that he was behind the attacks and that he hadn’t stopped them after signing the peace treaty, he would lose access to both Charis and the port at Ebbington. Who would take that risk? And for what? She’d already given him what he wanted.
No, it was one of their other allies—possibly Rullenvor. Or it was the strange ships rumored to be in the northern seas. Could it be Te’ash? She hadn’t heard of an underwater kingdom using ships, but Calera’s knowledge of the Rakuuna was slim at best. She supposed it was possible the Rakuuna had sunk a few ships to try to force Calera into an agreement, but it seemed counterproductive to sink the ships of their ally, Rullenvor. Either way, she—
“I said the very same. He must be lying.” Thorsby’s voice trembled with righteous indignation. “I have brought my concerns to the queen, Your Highness. And I will again. But I’m afraid she isn’t listening.”