Page 72 of The Twisted Throne

Ahnna dropped his hand, eyes narrowed. Instead of responding, she stalked toward the carriage, the effect somewhat impeded by the restrictive cut of her skirts.

Sighing, James turned to help Taryn out. “Congratulations on your acceptance to the conservatory.”

“Thank you.” Taryn’s jaw was tight, feelings on the matter clearly mixed. Indeed, James had heard through the servants’ gossip that it had come to shouting between the two women when Ahnna had informed Taryn she’d be joining the conservatory. “Keep my cousin safe. She thinks your men are capable, but that has not been my impression.”

“You have my word.” He hated how much that felt like a lie as Bronwyn ignored his hand and clambered out, striding toward the waiting carriage without speaking. The Maridrinian princess’s expression was a thundercloud—she was obviously no happier about the arrangement than Taryn.

“You going to help me out, too, boy?” Jor asked from inside the carriage.

“Do you need me to?”

Jor snorted. “Not yet, but that day is coming.” He climbed out, straightening his tunic. The marks of illness were still heavy upon the man, but he seemed to have renewed vigor, though whether it was because he was going home or what awaited him when he arrived, James could not have said.

“Take care of her, boy. If I have to come back to deal with your failures, you’ll learn that age has only made me more creative in my punishments,” Jor said as he walked toward the waiting carriage, and instinctively, James said, “Yes, sir.”

The old Ithicanian shot him an amused glance, then shut the carriage door behind himself.

Shaking his head to reclaim his wits, James took Maven’s reinsfrom the groom and swung up onto the tall black mare. He nodded to Georgie, who took the lead of the column through the gates and into the city.

The civilians were using the news of Ithicana’s new heir as an excuse to stop work early and celebrate, the alehouses and cafés all packed with patrons lifting a glass in the name of the princess. While there had been growing resentment over the bridge’s tolls, it wasn’t enough to overwhelm the long-standing goodwill Harendell had for the Bridge Kingdom, the people delighting in Ithicana’s mystery even as they applauded the nation’s business sense.

What would it be like to see them lift a glass to Cardiff?he couldn’t help but wonder, having spent his entire life watching his people sneer at the mention of his mother’s homeland. Unlike Amarid, which, despite their endless squabbles, was regarded with some level of respect, Harendellians saw Cardiffians as barely more than animals. The only reason he was treated differently was because his father was king. And because James was careful never to do anything that reminded the people that he wasn’t entirely one of them.

Old biases are hard to break,his father always said.People believe these things because they were taught to them by their parents and their parents before them. If they are not given reason to question those beliefs, they never will.

Thatreasonhad been his mother’s dream, shared with his father during their ill-fated love affair, and now James’s singular goal. To look north for trade rather than south, to create secure routes back and forth across the border, the ease of commerce and rise in profit gradually destroying the false beliefs and biases that plagued relations between the two nations. Once merchants gained confidence that their caravans were not at risk, they’d flock north, drawn by the allure of keeping their entire profit rather than Ithicana pocketing half.

That the treaty his uncle and father were so close to signing would harm the Bridge Kingdom’s coffers, there was no doubt, but the chance to unite Harendell and Cardiff was worth more to James. It would not happen in one fell swoop, but once his father repealed the laws forbidding astromancy and allowing civilians to be persecuted for its practice, it would be a significant beginning. A beginning that would allow him to look up to the stars and know that he’d done right by his mother.

If not by Ahnna.

Ithicana will be fine,he told himself.It isn’t as though trade will cease. The Bridge Kingdom has always been self-sufficient.

And yet…His eyes flicked sideways to the carriage next to him, Ahnna’s face frowning as she quarreled with her companions, it sounding as though they were all still arguing against leaving her alone. For which he could hardly blame them. Why did she refuse to go home? Was it because Aren had tasked her with funneling more Harendellian trade through the bridge to line his coffers and she feared failing him? Or, as his father believed, that she knew she’d be used to tempt Amarid into a profitable alliance by marriage to Prince Carlo? Some combination? Or was there another reason for the desperation that had risen in her eyes when James had demanded an explanation? Another threat that she hadn’t shared with him?

The question circled his thoughts as they made their way to the western quay, commerce pausing as his men directed civilians and merchants to clear the space. Scanning their surroundings, James dismounted and handed off his reins so that he might open the carriage. He said nothing as Ahnna exited, though the feel of her palm burned through his glove long after she’d started toward the water, her guardsman at her side, Taryn and Bronwyn following.

James walked at a respectful distance behind her. Close enoughto come to her aid but far enough that her words to her departing companions were nothing but a murmur of noise.

The passenger vessel they walked toward was grand, with its own guards, something hired by wealthy merchants or minor nobles. The dean of the conservatory abandoned the decks to greet Taryn with great enthusiasm, which, though Taryn deserved it, had likely been purchased by James’s father.

Standing with his arms at his back, James watched Ahnna say her goodbyes, only for a ruckus in the distance to catch his attention. Squinting against the sun, James looked upriver in time to see a procession cross the bridge into Verwyrd. The men were mostly in uniform, a handful of them carrying Harendell’s banner, but one rode a familiar white stallion.

Shit.

“What’s Will doing in Verwyrd?” Georgie muttered. “I thought he was going to Whitewood Hall for the hunts. He should be halfway there by now.”

“I don’t know.” And he couldn’t leave to find out. Not with Ahnna standing exposed on the quay.

James drummed his fingers against his thigh, anxiety pooling in his gut over the reason for his brother’s return. Not only did Will relish the hunts at Whitewood, but everything he was desperate to avoid was at Verwyrd. And everyone.

Ahnna’s companions had boarded the vessel, but rather than waiting for them to make way, Ahnna was walking back to the carriage. Saying nothing, he helped her inside, cursing the slowness of the driver as he wove his way back to the tower, the civilians in the streets calling out to Ahnna their well-wishes for her niece.

Maven, nearly always cool as a cup of water, pranced beneath him. She sensed his nerves, and James rested a hand on her neck tosoothe her. But his trepidation only increased as they passed through the gates into the stable yard and his eyes latched on Will, who stood laughing with his friends. All three men went silent as the carriage approached, and to James’s everlasting shock, William abandoned his cronies to approach the carriage. Opening the door, he held out his hand to a stunned Ahnna. “My lady.”

A flash of jealousy rushed through James as she took his brother’s hand, allowing him to help her down.

“My most sincere congratulations on the birth of your niece,” he said. “When I saw the riverboat, I half feared you’d abandoned us to return to see the princess without a goodbye.”

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