Page 57 of The Twisted Throne

“Is that why she doesn’t want to go back?”

Their faces went still, as unreadable as when the Ithicanians used to wear masks. And then Jor shrugged. “Didn’t think going back was an option. Promise is a promise, and all that. Ithicana keeps its word.”

What are they hiding? Ahnna’s secrets? Or Ithicana’s?

“As does Harendell.”

James twitched, having not noticed his father enter the room. Sword buckled at his waist, shirtsleeves pushed up, his father moved past the Ithicanians to kneel next to James. He pressed his fingers to Ahnna’s throat, then made a face. “Coward’s weapon, wraithroot. I had a look at the corpse. No identifying features, clothing, or weapons, and his companion is naught but pulp at the bottom of the tower. However, the poison tells us all we need to know.”

Amarid.

There should be no question in his mind that it had been the other nation, and yet…James had spent more than a decade fighting their western neighbor, and the fighting style of those two assassins had felt…different. While at the same time, painfully familiar.

“That’s three times the Amaridians have tried to kill you,” his father muttered. “And still, we don’t know why.”

Except James hadn’t been their target. This time, they’d gone after Ahnna, which only added to the sickness in his belly.

“Do we know how they got in?”

“Not yet,” his father replied. “Though with so many coming for the banquet, it would not have been such a great task to get past our security. She’d have been safe enough if she’d stayed in her rooms. What was she doing wandering without a guard?”

Being who she is.

“Getting some airis what she told those on duty,” Jamesanswered. “I was convincing her to go back inside when they attacked.” Not the entire truth, but he wasn’t about to admit that he’d been trying to get Ahnna to leave Harendell of her own accord. Given that his father seemed intent on seeing this marriage through, regardless of Ronan’s wishes, he would not take kindly to James countering him.

“A hard-learned lesson, though she’ll no doubt be fully recovered in a few days,” his father said. “Put her to bed. The doctor will see to her well-being, and I want you to focus on hunting down the way they got in. Someone will be missing a groom or a manservant, and I want to know who brought them into our midst.”

“I can’t leave her.”

His father’s eyes shot to his, then narrowed. “Why not? Her personal guards are here to watch her, and I’ve need of your thoroughness.”

“I told her I’d stay.”

“She’ll be unconscious for hours. Leave and then return, if need be.”

“I promised.” And because he disliked the depth of his father’s scrutiny, he added, “She was attacked in our home. It’s the least I can do.”

Silence stretched, and James suspected his father was seeing further past the excuse than he might have liked, but all he said was, “As you like. Though you need to learn to be more judicious in your promises, Jamie. You have other commitments.”

“Yes, Father.”

Straightening, his father surveyed the Ithicanians. “This is not Ithicana, where your royals are protected by the elements and free to do as they please. Show more care.”

Jor covered his mouth, coughing, then nodded. “We will keep a closer eye on her, Your Grace.”

As his father departed, the doctor entered again, mouth pursed in a tight line as he said, “I see you mastered her emotions, my lord. Well done. I’ll stitch her wound, and then all she will need is rest.”

“You’ll fuck right off is what you’ll do,” Bronwyn said. “I’ll cut off your hands and feed them to you before I’ll let you touch her in her sleep. I can stitch her up. Give me that bag.”

“You will do no such thing, you crass woman!”

A tug-of-war over the bag ensued, Bronwyn easily overpowering the old man, who looked to James for support.

James exhaled, not in disagreement but in frustration with the Veliant princess’s aggressive methods. “It’s fine, Doctor. I’ll see your things returned to you when she’s finished.”

“Awful creature,” the old man muttered, hurrying to the door. “Veliants are all insane. Every last one of them.”

“At least we’re not inbred!” Bronwyn shouted after him, then rotated on her heel and dropped to her knees next to James and Ahnna. “Taryn, can you put that kettle back on the fire for some boiled water? Jor, make sure the doors are secure so that fopdoodle doesn’t find his way back in here to piss me off again.”

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