Page 92 of The Twisted Throne

“I’m not drunk.” Her hands balled into fists. “And James is on patrols around Verwyrd.”

Aren snorted. “Try again. He’s with his barmaid mistress in Thistleford. A woman named Elsie.”

Her stomach plummeted to the floor, and suddenly it was very hard to breathe. “Pardon?”

Aren shook his head. “For someone who used to manage Southwatch’s intelligence, you aren’t acting very intelligent. This is what Harendell is like. Rich men have endless mistresses on theside. I’d bet William has fucked half the women in that room out there, and that won’t stop if he marries you. Edward kept his goddamned mistress in the same palace as his wife and raised his bastard alongside his other children with no care for what anyone thought. Harendellians aren’t just immoral, they’re selfish and cruel. I’m shocked you haven’t figured that out for yourself by now.”

Oh, but she had. Had seen it in droves, but James…He wasn’t like the rest.

“You being here isn’t going to accomplish anything,” Aren said. “If some assassin doesn’t stab you in the back or poison your cup, you’ll only end up shunted off to some estate in the middle of nowhere, visited by your dear husband only long enough for him to make an heir and a spare, who will be taken from you to be raised by wet nurses and governesses andAlexandra.”

“But—”

“I know what Lara told you, Ahnna. But you are not Alexandra. You’ll never hold power here. It’s just not in the cards.”

When had he lost all his faith in her? When had been the moment that her brother had decided she was no longer the rock at his back?

“Would you listen to me?” she said, trying to curb the breathless panic in her chest. “I’m confident that Harendell is up to something. James mentioned other markets, and William mentioned other friends. I think trade through the bridge is in jeopardy.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Aren’s voice was frosty. “There has been a shift in tone in all the port markets. Rising anger against the tolls we charge, and that godforsaken rumor about Ithicana’s mountains of gold has risen again despite the Maridrinians having proven otherwise. Traffic on the bridge is already down by a third, and merchants are defaulting on amounts owed at Northwatch.Not because they can’t pay. But because they don’t want to. Harendell is turning on us, Ahnna. They are no longer our friends.”

Her breath came in ragged little gasps. How had it escalated so quickly?

“Our spies haven’t been able to pinpoint the source of the shift, but I’d bet the bridge it’s Edward.”

“No,” she whispered, because the king was her only ally in Harendell. “Edward wants me here. He likes me. He wants me to marry William. He told me I’ll be a good queen.”

Aren huffed out a breath. “That could all be true, and this could still be him, Ahnna. How long until he comes knocking at my door saying that more concessions need to be made to regain the support of the people for this marriage? I know you came here believing that you’d open the floodgates of Harendellian gold into Ithicana. Gold that we are desperate for, because Ithicana is hungry and in shambles. Weaker than we’ve ever been. But my gut tells me this betrothal isn’t going to save us. It’s going to cost us, one way or another. I refuse to let it cost me your life.”

Tears flooded down Ahnna’s face, and she found it impossible to speak because she couldn’t breathe.

“Go back to the Sky Palace and pack your things,” he said. “Get on a riverboat, retrieve Taryn and Bronwyn, and return to Ithicana. I’ll put you in command of Southwatch, you can marry whomever you want, and we’ll show Edward just how well trying to force Ithicana’s hand will work out for him. There is no other market that can compete, and he’ll be forced to give up this posturing.”

Go back a failure. Remain and be a failure. Hopelessness dragged her down and down, and Ahnna found herself wishing with all her heart that the wraithroot had taken her. “I can’t go back.”

But apparently, neither could she stay.

Aren gripped her shoulders. “It’s not up for negotiation.”

“Please.” The word croaked out, her throat closed up so tightly that the only explanation she could get out was, “I can’t.”

Then a naked sword blade appeared from the shadows to press against Aren’s throat.

Ahnna tensed, reaching for the knife in her skirts. Only to recognize James’s voice as he said, “Remove your hands from the lady.”

It took all his self-controlnot to draw his blade across the man’s throat, his rage already hot at William for taking Ahnna into the city, at Alfred for allowing her to wander off alone, and at himself for not being here to prevent this.

The man lowered his hands from Ahnna’s shoulders and turned his head, and it was the king of Ithicana who gave James a scowl of irritation as he said, “Good to see you aren’t entirely useless.”

Fuck.

But king or not, brother or not, Ahnna was crying so hard she could barely breathe, and that was not acceptable. So James did not lower his weapon.

“Why are you here, Your Grace?”

“Not your concern.”

James let out a long breath. “The lady’s welfare is very much my concern.”

---