Page 65 of The Twisted Throne

“Marry her to the Beast?” Cormac laughed harshly. “Seems unlikely. Carlo’s already been through three brides, so any union via marriage would be short-lived, and Aren has only one sister.”

James bristled, hating the very idea of it. “With tensions high with Amarid, it’s not a risk my father is willing to take. Keeping Ahnna here means that Ithicana sending her to Amarid isn’t an option.”

“If Aren is desperate enough to marry his twin to the Beast, then he’s weak. Too weak to make a good ally, for he can do naught but levy tolls on his bridge and hurl rocks from Northwatch. If you want your merchants crossing the border into Cardiff without risking their lives, thensend her back.Or I’ll deal with her.”

In two strides, James crossed the space between them, his hands slamming into the chair his uncle sat upon, knocking it over backward. Driving his boot heel down on his uncle’s chest, James said, “If you or yours step foot in Verwyrd or harm Ahnna Kertell, I will personally cut off your hands for the slight. This ismyground, Uncle, and nothing happens without my say. I intend to see my mother’s wishes through, but you need not be alive for that to occur. And knowing my uncle Ronan as I do, he would gladly sacrifice a brother for the sake of gaining Harendell’s favor.”

Though the pressure of James’s boot had to hurt, his uncle chuckled. “There are times all I see is the courtier and I fear Edward’s blood has claimed you, boy. It pleases me to see my sister’s eyes looking back at me from your face, the old blood strong in you. It gives me faith in you, so I will abide by your wishes and leave the princess be. But if this marriage occurs…”

“It won’t.” James stepped back, watching his uncle ease to his feet. “I will handle Ahnna, but while I do, she is under my protection.”

His uncle righted his chair, expression considering. “You have your mother’s fire, Jamie. But also your father’s foolery. Let Siobhan’s blood win out.”

Not answering, James strode to the door, but as his hand fell on the handle, Cormac said, “Speaking of Ronan and of princesses, how fares your cousin? How is Lestara?”

“Has she replied yet?” Ahnnademanded as Hazel walked into the room. It had been over a day since she’d sent a card requesting an audience with the queen, and despite the woman living within the same palace, she’d not responded.

“I’m afraid not, my lady,” Hazel said, setting the tray of food on the table next to the window.

“Is it normal for her to take this long to respond?”

Her maid gave a slight grimace. “It is not, my lady. She typically responds immediately, regardless of the answer.”

“Shit,” Ahnna muttered, then gave Hazel an apologetic wince for cursing as she paced her room, ignoring the food.

“You aren’t supposed to exert yourself. The poison might still—”

Ahnna sat down at the table. Not because she was worried about the wraithroot or because she was hungry, but because she was in no mood to argue. Already she was going stir-crazy locked in her room. This was the longest she’d remained in bed in recentmemory. At the worst possible time, because years of reading spy reports about the machinations of rulers told her that things were happening. Potentially right down the hallway from where she slept. “I need out of this room.”

Hazel sighed, then picked up a card off her tray. “Lady Virginia has invited you to join her and her ladies for tea.”

Virginia wasn’t who interested her, because she did not strike Ahnna as a woman consumed by politics. But her ladies might feel differently, and Ahnna had gleaned many interesting facts over the years by putting together pieces of gossip. Frowning at the card, she asked, “Hazel, what happens at these gatherings?”

“Cross-stitch and knitting,” Hazel answered. “Sometimes flower arranging and poetry readings, and more rarely, singing in accompaniment of the pianoforte. But primarily, they gossip.”

Taking the card to the writing desk, Ahnna carefully penned her acceptance, then placed it back on the tray to be returned to Virginia. Attempting to make her voice nonchalant, she asked, “I’ve not seen His Highness. Is he well?”

“Prince William has gone to the races again.” Hazel lifted her head to meet Ahnna’s gaze. “Or did you mean James?”

She had, but realizing how that might look, Ahnna said, “Both, I suppose.”

“Ah. Well, James has been most preoccupied with the Sky Palace’s security after the attack on your person, my lady. Many of the men on duty that night have been reprimanded and docked pay, and some dismissed. The rumor is that he’s called in men from his regiment in the Lowlands to serve, though it will be some time until they arrive. You might see changes in your guard when they do.”

Ahnna had briefly met the four new guards Bronwyn had selected from Georgie’s candidates, all seemingly capable men. Orat least as capable as could be ascertained from her bedchamber. Bronwyn said they were all good fighters and had been willing to spar with her, but said little more. There was still tension sitting between them.

“It may be that Lady Virginia’s invitation came at the directive of the queen,” Hazel said. “Though I would caution you to show care in what you reveal, my lady. This is Harendell, and in our courts, there is no greater currency than information. Virginia might hold your confidence, but do not expect as much from those in her service or company.”

“I understand.” Hesitating, she added, “Virginia seemed pleasant enough. And certainly loyal to her family.”

“Tremendously loyal, my lady. Most especially to her brothers.”

Ahnna did not fail to notice that Hazel had confirmed one of her statements but not the other, which suggested that perhaps the princess’s personality was not as genuine as one might hope. Which was perhaps no surprise, given that Virginia was an Ashford, and the Ashfords were supposed to epitomize what it meant to be Harendellian.

Her appetite had not materialized, so though she was typically loath to waste food, Ahnna abandoned the breakfast and eyed one of two dresses that Hazel had secured for her from a modiste in Verwyrd. The cost of the confection of lace and satin had made Ahnna want to vomit when she’d signed for the draw on her accounts. Neither garment was in a color that she favored, but beggars could not be choosers, and having something made custom would have been twice as much.

Hazel went to work on Ahnna’s hair, using damp fingers to coax it into loose ringlets hanging halfway down her back. Cosmetics followed, Hazel using pink powder to give color to her cheeks, which remained pale. Then came layers of undergarments,and finally, the dress. Thankfully, a morning dress required no corset, so if it came to a fight, she’d be able to breathe. When Hazel was retrieving a pair of flat silk slippers, Ahnna swiftly secured a thigh sheath beneath the skirt, the blade within it small but sharp.

Her eyes flicked to the clock, which read half past the ninth hour. “Is it rude to be early?”

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