Page 2 of The Twisted Throne

She didn’t want to go. Yet neither could she bear to stay. “It’s because Ithicana is everything to me that I’m going. Ithicana is weak, Aren. More than that, we’rebroke.Maridrina has nothing to export, and Valcotta is funneling everything it can into Maridrina. The only revenue we have is the tolls paid by Harendell and Amarid, and they are half what they were before the invasion. We need gold, and lots of it, to rebuild what was lost and keep our people fed while we do it.” She gestured to the cattle. “How many of those cows did you buy to be butchered and distributed to your people?”

“Fifty head,” he muttered.

“And how did you pay for them?” When he didn’t answer, she added, “How did you pay for the shipment of grain you bought yesterday? The barrels of nails? The lumber? The wool?”

Silence.

“How much do you owe Harendellian and Amaridian merchants, Aren? How in debt are we to the north? How long can you keep buying on credit until they realize our credit is no good?”

More silence.

“As soon as they realize you can’t pay, they’ll know just how weak Ithicana is. And the weak are always the greatest targets. It will be pirates first, but how long until one of the northern nations takes a page from Silas’s book and goes after the bridge itself? Would you like me to remind you how it goes for Ithicana when we lose the bridge?”

“I don’t need you to explain the stakes.”

“Don’t you?” She glared at him. “Even once we’ve overcome this hurdle, too many people know their way past our defenses for our shores to ever be fully protected again. I can do more to defend Ithicana as queen of Harendell than I ever could as commander of Southwatch.”

Aren’s tone was bitter as he said, “You’re wrong about that. They’ll put a crown on your head, but the only decision you’ll ever get to make is who sits next to who at the dinner parties. You’ll benothingcompared to what you are now.”

Ahnna’s chest tightened to the point that she couldn’t breathe, a thousand retorts forming in her head, but her throat strangled every last one of them. “Even if that’s the case, it’s the right choice. Harendell’s trade is worth more than I am. You’re coming out ahead.”

“You make it sound like I’m selling you,” he snapped.

“I’m selling myself. Do me a favor and put the profits to good use.”

Tension simmered between them. Sucking in a mouthful of air, Ahnna gestured to the pair of ships approaching from the north, sunlight glinting off royal-blue paint and shining gilt, the flags snapping in the wind. “My buyers are here. So why don’t you sober up, order the pier cleared as it should have been an hour ago, and go greet them like a proper king.”

Not responding, Aren twisted on his heel and stormed down the path. Jor and Lia rose from where they’d been waiting and followed, the rest of his honor guard notably absent. Likely with Lara, who needed her back watched far more than Aren did, for Ahnna was not the only Ithicanian who hadn’t forgiven the queen.

Dragging in breath after breath of air, Ahnna tried to ignore the sweat dripping down her back as she watched the ships draw nearer. One of them held the man she was supposed to marry.

William, Crown Prince of Harendell.

She made a face, the memory of his portrait filling her mind’s eye. He looked like his father, King Edward. Slender, with chestnut hair and green eyes, his features were handsome in a beautiful and yet entirely uninteresting way. Her cousin Taryn had taken one look and said, “I’d bet the only fighting he’s ever done is in a courtyard duel with dull rapiers.”

Ahnna was inclined to agree; nothing about his fancy clothes and trim build suggested a man dedicated to combat, though there was a chance the artist had taken liberties in the likeness.

Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing to be wed to a man who didn’t make violence a daily part of his life. God knew, she brought enough of that to the table. Reaching up, Ahnna touched the scar that bisected her face, still red despite the salve Nana had given her to help it fade.

Would he find it ugly?

The answer to that was abundantly obvious.

Ahnna shook her head sharply. It didn’t matter what he thought of her looks or her of his. This was a political arrangement, and she’d been raised not to expect sentiment within it.You are a princess,her mother’s voice echoed inside her head.Your hand will bind the most powerful nation in the north to Ithicana, just as your brother’s eventual marriage to a Maridrinian princess will bind the south. This treaty offers Ithicana a chance at peace.

So far, all the treaty had brought to Ithicana was war, but Harendell wasnotMaridrina.

Andshewas not Lara.

One of the Harendellian ships drew away from the other, heading toward the eastern pier despite there being a vessel still moored. She should go down and prepare to meet it, but Ahnna wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready to let go of Ithicana, her friends, andher family just yet, and with the pier still full of wine casks, there was time yet to remain up here.

Where she could breathe.

With practiced hands and steady feet, Ahnna circled the peak of the island, pausing only when the market and port were completely out of sight and all of Ithicana stretched out before her. The bridge snaked its way between islands, the mist shifting around the stone, making it seem alive. Gone was the stink of cow, and instead, the wind smelled of salt and jungle, with a hint of sharpness that spoke of coming rainstorms.

Her home.

Abruptly, Ahnna’s skin prickled, some sixth sense telling her danger lurked. Jerking her weapon loose, she whirled.

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