Page 37 of The Enemy's Daughter

“What are you doing with her?” Annette continues. “Have youthought about the consequences? How disappointed your father would be?”

An arrow of grief that’s not my own lands directly in my heart.

“I think we’re done here,” Tristan says.

“No, listen to me, Tristan. Please.” Annette’s voice turns desperate. “I’ve known you all my life. I know that your father’s opinion mattered to you. It’s why you’ve worked so hard with him. Beside him. Leading Kingsland was his dream for you. What better way to honor his legacy than to pick up where he left off? Be the leader your father was.”

“I’m trying.” Tristan sounds frustrated. Exasperated.

“But you can’t do it withherby your side. There isn’t a person among us who will support you.”

“So you decided to take matters into your own hands by withholding the antidote and starving her in a locked room?”

Tristan’s anger cracks like a whip against my mind, causing my hand to jerk as I pull open a cabinet drawer. Skies, I need to put more distance between us. We wouldn’t be connecting like this if I were up in my room. I pause, seeing the name of the first file: Clan Weapons. Stunned, I grab it, but the next one is just as alarming—Staging Areas. What are these papers?

With no time to read them, I pull pages at random from the two files, then fold them into a palm-size package and shove it up my rolled sleeve.

Exiting the office is a relief, but I still need to get back across the hallway. Carefully, I peek around the corner. Not only is Annette facing my direction, but if she sees me, she won’t hesitate to turn me in.

I watch as she pushes into Tristan’s space. “You know it’s easy toplace the blame on me, but what kind ofhusbanddoesn’t check on his sick wife regularly?” She grabs his arm to keep him close. Then her face softens. “It’s okay. The answer is obvious. It’s someone who realizes he’s made amistake. You’re a good person, Tristan. You did a good deed—you saved her. But now you feel trapped. I’m here to tell you that you aren’t. You don’t love her, and she doesn’t love you. It’s okay to end this marriage. That’s what your father would have wanted too.”

Tristan’s arms fall to his sides, and he leans close to her ear. He speaks, but all I hear is a murmur. Most importantly, he’s also completely blocking me from Annette’s view.

Go, go, go,I tell myself. Pain streaks through my muscles and joints as I sneak back the way I came—but not before catching a glimpse of Annette’s fingers sliding into Tristan’s hair. She leans in.

Are they about to kiss? A sharp queasiness stabs my gut as I make it to the stairs. I stop, needing to rest and... I don’t know. A confusion I can’t explain fills my head.

“Isadora?” Tristan calls.

Panic scrapes the inside of my chest as I try to rush up the stairs.

Footsteps pound behind me, then stop. “Isadora! Wait.”

I slow my steps but don’t turn to him. My body shakes.He doesn’t know where I came from.Already my skin burns with Tristan’s gaze on my back. “I...”Don’t lie.“I heard someone at the door.”

“Please. Stay.”

I don’t know why I listen. Slowly, I twist around, resisting the urge to push the papers deeper into my sleeve.

Tristan’s dressed in the same fighting uniform-like pants and muddy green V-neck shirt that Vador and his soldiers wear. Wavy golden brown hair spills around his face. Like mine, his eyes arestill lined in a bruise, but somehow it only makes him look dark and mysterious.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” Now that is the truth.

His gaze tracks over me—a reminder I’m wearing only his shirt.

For all his urgency, he seems a little tongue-tied now. A tingly heat brushes against my mind before he speaks. “I’m sorry.”

For what? Getting caught with his lover? Not that I care who he kisses.

The front door slams, and I flinch. “She sounds upset. Should you walk her home?”

“No.” His voice is firm. He wipes a hand over his face, then gestures in the direction of the war room. “She only lives two houses over.”

That’s convenient. Annette’s tear-stained face the first day I met her makes sense now. They have a history, and she’s obviously in love with him—a man who’s now married to me. I almost feel sorry for her. “Well... she’s right, you know.” I fold my arms over my chest. “This isn’t a real marriage. You don’t have to ruin your future with her because of me.” It stings to advocate for Annette’s happiness now that I know she was the one who left me to starve, but I’ll do it if it’ll help sway him to let me go. “I’m certainly not—”

“There isn’t anything between me and Annette.” He climbs a stair, then another.

I choke on a laugh. I may be inexperienced when it comes to men, but I’m not that naive.

---