Page 123 of The Twisted Throne

A jolt surged through him as she took his hand, allowing him to lead her out to where the dancers were gathering, the first strings of a waltz beginning to play. Turning toward her, James rested his hand on her back, no part of him not reacting to the feel of her bare skin beneath his palm. Ahnna rested her other hand on his shoulder, her gaze on his chest. Which was just as well, because with guilt threatening to drown him, he couldn’t meet her eye.

As the other dancers began to move, he led her into the steps, guiding her around and around the dance floor. Part of him wanted to extend the moment, but he forced himself to say, “I shouldn’t…we shouldn’t have done what we did.”

Ahnna didn’t answer, her eyes fixed on the buttons of his coat. “Why? Because I’m to marry your brother? Or because you’re a lying prick who has been planning to stab me in the back the entire time you’ve known me?”

She knew.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. James had thought that admitting the truth to her would be the hardest thing he’d everhave to do, but having her discover another way was proving to be far,farworse. “Both.”

Her lip quivered. “Not going to defend your actions?”

“I cannot,” he answered. “Any claim I had to honor is gone. There is no defense.”

“I should hate you,” Ahnna whispered. “But I know you were driven to defend your mother’s people. That you wanted to end the persecution. The burnings. That your motivations were good, if not your goddamned consideration of the consequences. Or perhaps you considered them and just decided you didn’t care about Ithicanian suffering. We are not people, just greedy monsters in masks who sit upon thrones of gold.”

She was not far off the mark. “There may be a happy medium, Ahnna. Something that achieves both ends. That makes all three nations happy.”

“I highly doubt that,” Ahnna hissed, “as it is clear to me that Harendell thinks only of itself.”

“You don’t need to marry my brother,” he said. “You can leave now. It is against my father’s own laws to make you wed anyone you do not accept. Leave, Ahnna. Go back to Ithicana. Go back to your family and be happy.”

Her lip curled. “As though my happiness matters. You only wish for me to leave because you know that your father will not live forever. Because you know that if I am William’s queen, I’ll have the power to undo all of this. All it will take is one nasty tax on trade into Cardiff, and you know exactly what your greedy countrymen will choose to do, don’t you, James?”

“You are not that cruel,” he said. “You’ll not invite that kind of horror back on innocent people.”

“You don’t know me half as well as you think,” she replied. “To defend my people, there isnothingI won’t do.”

A commotion at the rear of the ballroom stole away his ability to respond, the orchestra quieting and the dancers falling still as all eyes fixed on the panting and filthy messenger now speaking to his father. There were grim nods, then his father said loudly, “Dire news, my friends. Word has come that Amarid has crossed the border into the Lowlands in numbers not seen in a generation, their first bid in an attempt to reclaim the land. Our garrisons have called for aid. Long have we danced with war, my friends, but today, war has come to Harendell.”

A dozen women screamed, at least two swooning into their companions’ arms, but more stood with their shoulders squared and jaws tight as they waited, sensing there was more to come. Next to him, Ahnna seethed tension.

“But we do not face it alone,” his father continued. “For we have a formidable ally at our side—one capable of not only helping us drive the Amaridians off our lands but of helping us enact justice for a crime that is long overdue.”

James drew in a deep breath.

“Twenty-six years ago,” his father said, moving to stand on the dais so that all might hear, “the mother of my firstborn son was murdered in cold blood. There has been much speculation over the years as to who murdered her, blame cast”—he glanced at Alexandra, whose expression was unreadable—“but I reveal to you today that Siobhan was poisoned by the assassins of Queen Katarina of Amarid.”

There were a few surprised gasps, but James knew that most were waiting for the real shoe to drop. An explanation for why they were discussing the death of a woman they’d all presumed to be a commoner when Harendell stood on the brink of war.

“Why, I’m sure you are all wondering, did Katarina condescend to murdering a Cardiffian maidservant?” his father said. “Theanswer is that Siobhan was no commoner, no maidservant. She was sister to King Ronan Crehan of Cardiff.”

More gasps erupted, dozens of eyes going to James, but he kept his expression still even though one set of those eyes belonged to Ahnna. Yet another piece of information he’d kept from her.

Yet another lie.

“Yet that still might seem paltry motivation, for Amarid has no quarrel with Cardiff, and to assassinate a foreign princess in the confines of the Sky Palace invites severe retaliation. Only the greatest of motivations would be worth such a risk. What, you are all wondering, did Katarina know that all of you did not?” He waited, scanning the room until the tension reached a fever pitch, then said, “The answer to that question is that Siobhan and I were working together to create a true and lasting alliance between Harendell and Cardiff. A friendship that would see our trade flow north instead of south, that would see Harendellians reap the profits from the sales of their goods rather than bleed money in tolls and taxes.”

God, but his father was the consummate politician, giving these people information that was sure to spark outrage but then chasing it with that which ruled their hearts: profit. For there wasn’t a man or woman in this room who wouldn’t turn a blind eye to just about anything, including astromancy, if doing so made them richer. Yet for all this had been hisfucking plan,James felt no elation at watching it unfold, because the ends were not his dream.

They were his nightmare.

“This alliance was Siobhan’s dream,” his father continued, “a dream that turned to a nightmare when Katarina discovered it, the Amaridian bitch slipping poison into the cup of the greatest woman I’ve had the privilege of knowing in order to destroy an alliance that would make Amarid quake at the knees.”

Beyond, Alexandra’s mouth twisted, but his father only pressed onward.

“For a time, Katarina succeeded, her foul propaganda mongers slandering Alexandra as the culprit in order to sow dissent with the Cardiffians. But the truth always comes out, my friends, and King Ronan is as eager for revenge against Katarina and Amarid as I am. Which is why he and I have signed a treaty of alliance, his army moving to join ours as we speak. Amarid will bleed for its actions, but none more so than the woman on the throne!”

Such was the power of his oration that the ballroom exploded into cheers and demands for revenge for the murder of a woman that, until moments ago, they’d only ever disparaged. His father’s expression was one of vicious delight, but all James felt was hollow. Because he did not believe that this was what his mother had wanted. For her name and legacy to be that of violence, when all she’d ever wanted was peace.

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