Page 63 of The Twisted Throne

“I’m sure he will,” she said, struck by the obvious favoritism that he held for his elder son. It reminded her of how her mother had treated her and Aren, and given what Virginia had told her, it filled her with sudden sympathy for William.

“That said, I would understand if you desired to return home,” Edward said, and Ahnna’s heart lurched. “We failed to protect you, and it is not fair to ask you to live in fear.”

“I am used to fear,” Ahnna replied, wary because she knew she was outmatched by this man when it came to twisted words and politics.

Edward turned her hand over in his, examining the scars. “Yes, I believe you are,” he said softly. “William is not capable of rule, Ahnna. He needs a queen who will do it for him. Someone clever and strong who will sit on the throne while he plays with his toys. Someone who brings strength to the table in every possible way. Who will put her strength into my bloodline, which I fear has been watered down by too many individuals who have never known toil. Or loss.”

His words seemed to confirm his desire for her to be here, a desire for her to marry William, no matter his son’s protests. Still, Ahnna asked, “Do you desire for me to remain in Verwyrd…Eddie?”

The corner of his mouth turned up, as though her using his name pleased him greatly. “I do, Ahnna. Very much so. You will be the sort of queen Harendell needs.”

Feeling emboldened, she said, “If you wish for me to rule Harendell as you have, I need to learn from you. Obviously, I understand the business between Ithicana and Harendell very well, but I must learn about the other markets in which your merchants trade. Understand the relationships you have with other kingdoms.”

He was silent, and for a moment, Ahnna believed that she’d overstepped. Then his eyes locked on hers, and he patted her hand. “Your knowledge of how our two nations work together to reach the southern markets is invaluable, Ahnna. I think it will be I who is picking your brain once you are well.”

It was no answer, which all but confirmed in her mind that there were opportunities for Harendell that did not involve the bridge. Opportunities that Edward did not want her knowing about, which meant she was going to need to discover them another way.

Edward rose. “I’ll let you rest.”

“Your Grace.” When he leveled a teasing finger at her, she amended with, “Eddie. Might I ask a favor of you?”

“For you, Ahnna? Anything. Name it.”

Glancing toward Taryn’s closed door, she said, “It pertains to my cousin. In Ithicana, she was forced to live a martial life, but it is not the path to which she is best suited. She has a voice without equal, and I desire for her to pursue her passion for music rather than to serve me. Would it be possible for those who dictate admissions at the conservatory to listen to her sing?”

Edward grinned. “This is easily done. I’ll make the arrangements immediately.” Giving her a jaunty salute, he said, “Good day to you, Princess,” then left the room.

Hazel appeared, moving to Ahnna’s side and immediately fluffing the pillows. “You should sleep, my lady. You have given the entire palace quite a scare. Even the queen has spent the whole of the day in the chapel praying for your health.”

Ahnna highly doubtedthatwas what Alexandra was prayingfor.

Lara’s voice filled her head.The women of Harendell are far from powerless. They might not wield weapons or fight in wars, but they influence everything that happens, every decision that is made. None is more powerful than Queen Alexandra. Or more dangerous.

If it had indeed been Alexandra who’d tried to kill her, then Lara’s words had been proved in abundance. As much as Ahnna was loath to take advice from Lara, ignoring her seemed a good way to get herself killed. And her death would have far-ranging consequences.

Taking a breath, she said, “I need you to find me a dress. And then I wish to request an audience with the queen.”

James heeled Maven into aswift canter, trusting his tall mare to keep her footing as he wove down the narrow road, the late-afternoon sun doing little to cut through the canopy of trees overhead.

He’d had a look at the second body before he’d left Verwyrd. Not in a bucket, but near to it, for every bone was broken. The skull was caved in, though the man’s face had been broadly intact, gray eyes staring up at James before he’d covered the corpse with a tarp and ordered it buried.

It was the Amaridians,he told himself for the hundredth time.Katarina growing desperate, that’s all.

Except that wasn’t what his instincts were telling him.

The scent of woodfire and cooking food tickled his nose, and he drove Maven for more speed. The hamlet of Thistleford appeared as he rounded a bend. It was formed of only a dozen buildings, mostly businesses that served the surrounding farms, and it was quiet but for the inn with the adjoining alehouse. Lute musicand the raucous singing of drunks drifted over the creek. Crossing the narrow bridge, James slowed his horse to a trot and stopped in front of the inn. As he dismounted, the stable boy scurried around from the back, taking the reins.

“Want me to put her in a stall, my lord?”

“Just take her for a walk and let her graze, Jack.” He slipped the boy a copper coin. “I won’t be long.”

Jack nodded, but James didn’t miss the smirk the boy cast him as he led the black mare away. Taking the steps two at a time, he opened the door. The smell of beef stew and freshly baked bread hit him in the face, along with the stink of years of ale splashed over floorboards.

The regulars all recognized him and pulled off their caps, nodding at James respectfully—he’d long ago trained them not to rise. Elsie set down tankards on a table, her brow furrowing at the sight of him, though she swiftly recovered with a smile. Setting down her tray on the bar, she muttered to the innkeeper, Charlie, to cover for her, then sauntered across the room toward James. “Well, this is a welcome surprise, Your Highness. We’d all heard that you had quite a spell of adventure retrieving the Ithicanian princess. Decided you needed some respite from her graces?”

Her accent was a flawless replica of those common to these hamlets and the surrounding farms, as was Charlie’s when he deigned to speak a few words. “Something like that,” James answered, allowing Elsie to slip her arms around his waist. “But I cannot linger.”

Her pink lips pouted, the lashes surrounding her golden-brown eyes fluttering. “Then we’ll have to make the most of the time you have, my lord.”

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