Page 56 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

“We should reach Calera soon,” she said, her tone as impersonal as she could manage.

“I owe you an explanation.”

She stiffened. “That’s not what I asked you here to talk about. Nothing you can say will change what you did.”

“I know.”

“So what’s the point of discussing it?” She pressed her hands against the table as if to stand and walk away, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Afraid you might not be able to stay mad at me?” He threw the challenge at her and waited.

“No.”

She’d yet to walk away. He didn’t waste any time.

“I was ordered by my father to become a spy in the Caleran palace because I have an ear for languages and could speak with a flawless northern Caleran accent and because having spent my life around royalty, I knew how to behave.” He swallowed as though it was difficult to force himself to speak the entire truth. “I suspect that my father expected me to get myself killed, which would save him the trouble of dealing with the son he’s always hated.”

She sniffed and looked away.

“I was supposed to get as close to the royal family—your family—as possible. Father wanted information that would help him bring the war to an end.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And the information you gave him inspired him to destroy an entire farming village despite the fact that there were no soldiers present?” She turned on him. “You remember Irridusk, don’t you? You visited the refugee camp there. You met the survivors—old women, a few children—and heard how the rest of their families were slaughtered like animals.”

His voice shook. “I didn’t have anything to do with that. I’d only been your bodyguard for a few weeks at that point, and I hadn’t passed on any information other than that you were driven to be everything your mother expected you to be and that removing the queen wouldn’t give my father an easier road to victory as he’d assumed.”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?” Her chin rose, and she pointed a finger at him. “You’re a liar.”

“I became a liar.” He sounded like he was in agony. “I had to be if I wanted to survive. I was simply following orders.”

“If that’s supposed to make me feel better—”

“You would have done the same thing if you were in my place. Why can’t you see that?”

She glared at him. “Because it isn’t true.”

He threw his hands in the air. “If your mother had ordered you to go undercover as a spy in my father’s keep, you would have done it. No hesitation.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It’s not—I was following orders! Just like you would have done.”

“Did you really follow orders?” She stood, a strange energy vibrating through her, and Tal rolled to the balls of his feet as if anticipating an attack. “Or did you improvise? Because I’ve met Alaric, and I don’t think he has the imagination to design the kind of betrayal you—”

“What would you have had me do differently?” Now he was the one taking a step forward, frustration practically humming off him. “Disobey my father—my king? Become a traitor to my kingdom and my family and end up with my head on a pole? Or maybe you think your mother was the only parent in this equation who demanded absolute obedience. Charis, trust me, if you’d been sent to spy on me in Montevallo, you’d have done whatever it took to fulfill your mother’s expectations.”

“I wouldn’t have taken your heart.” Her words sliced through the air, tipped in agony, bleeding regret. He looked as though she’d struck him.

“I tried.” Pain filled his voice. “I expected to see you as nothing more than Calera’s formidable, warmongering princess. And you lived up to those expectations beautifully for a week or two. But then . . . then you weren’t eating or sleeping well. You were having nightmares when you did sleep. You were taking care of everyone else at the expense of yourself, and it became increasingly clear that you cared deeply about your kingdom and about stopping the war.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it closed and watched him warily. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the table as if suddenly exhausted.

“I thought it would be all right to be your friend. Someone needed to watch out for you the way a friend does, and I told myself it was my job. That, somehow, I could be what Father expected of me and also be what you needed.” He scrubbed his hand over his face and looked at the floor. “I didn’t realize how far gone I was until I learned about your betrothal to Vahn.” His lips twisted. “I stood there in the war room near you, my heart bleeding in my chest like the fool I am as you announced what you’d done to secure a treaty.”

She was quiet for a moment as she sorted through his words, hunting for lies. Finally she said, “You stopped talking to me for nearly two weeks after that.”

“I was terrified.” He met her gaze without flinching, though she could see that baring his heart like this was costing him. “I should have been excited and happy about the treaty. My people would finally have port access. No more starvation or being forced into the army to risk their lives fighting Calera. I would be able to go home and resume my normal life again.”

Slowly she sank back into the chair, still watching him as though at any moment he might make a sudden move.

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