Page 43 of The War Queen's Daughter

He shrugs. “I’d let you.”

“Now you really are being an idiot.” I hop down, anger returning.

“Ouch,” he says, though he’s smiling.

“You don’t understand.” I turn away from him, tugging my robe closed over me. I’m betraying my queen, my people, for what? For a beautiful prince I barely know?

But I know him. Better than anyone. Whatever it is that he’s done to me, that much I’m sure of.

“You came here to seduce me,” he says without judgment, “knowing if you married me that one day you’d be Overqueen and you could control all thirteen kingdoms. You were told that none of the other princesses stood a chance and that you, of all of them, would be the only one I’d find even remotely interesting or attractive. That you’d be able to seize power from me, and I’d give it to you willingly.” I’m gaping at him as he flashes me a tired grin. “Did I miss anything?”

“I didn’t know about the others,” I blurt.

He thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs. “But the rest?”

“Or that if you did marry one of the others, Heald would face destruction.” I’m all in with him now.

He considers that before nodding. “That hadn’t occurred to me,” he says. “But yes, of course. They would do that, as punishment for Overkingdom leniency.”

“Mother says.” I stop myself. What am I doing?

“That a pact was made,” Atlas rises from his stool, coming to me. “By my grandfather. A pact for her mother’s cooperation. Heald was made certain promises. But instead, once the fighting was over and my grandfather had what he wanted, Heald was restricted. Because they feared your people, Remalla. Even weakened and at a fraction of your army’s power. They feared the might of your grandmother’s forces, your mother’s, the same army my grandfather convinced to fight for him.” Atlas straightens, stretches himself, sorrow returned. “He lied, retracted, and in the end, your grandmother and mother were forced to capitulate.”

“It’s all true.” I’m biting my lip against more tears. They no longer feel like weakness.

“It is,” Atlas says. “Heald’s battles for width and breadth against the other kingdoms are justified. When the final lines were drawn, the land that was yours was a fraction of itself. And the army that fought to bring together the Overkingdom just as reduced.”

“They let us wage war,” I say.

“To keep you contained,” he nods. “Squabbling with the other kingdoms, distracted and demeaned. Clawing for what is your right, your heritage, Daughter of Heald. Now, will you marry me?”

He already knows my answer. I kiss him anyway, with regret.

And leave him to his books.

There has to be another way.

I have so much to think about, to process. This kinspark nonsense is just that, at least. I’m not drakonkin, even if Zenthris might be. I’m more torn by my feelings, both about the two men I’m now entwined with, for good or ill, as much as the fact that Mother has been right all along.

Do I dare let her down? I won’t turn Atlas into a pawn. No matter what I do, if I marry him, she’ll get her way, I have no doubt of that. A fierce sense of protectiveness clutches me, forming a barrier around him in my heart.

Yes, my heart.

I can’t be falling in love with him, but I fear that’s exactly what I’m doing.

My bed is quiet and cool and exactly what I need right now, and though I fully expect to toss and turn, I’m out the moment I touch the pillow, blinking awake into the morning’s light, feeling rested and alert.

Things seem clearer for sleep, too, optimism making a place inside me where it’s been absent for a very long time. I rise,ambition and energy carrying me to the exercise yard and a long, sweaty reminder of the warrior princess I was raised to be.

I spot Vae on my return to our wing, hear her giggling as she pointedly stares in my direction, judging me.

While I slow smile and slap my own ass before blowing her a kiss right back.

She’s so startled that she shows me her concern as I laugh and carry on. Now she knows I know what she was up to last night, and her discomfort is my delight.

Time to shed this place for a few hours, Amber’s orders no longer valid. Then again, she doesn’t know the Overprince has proposed, but I feel vindicated in my choice to don my armor and stride out into the open air of early afternoon, to salute the guards at the doors on my way past. I contemplate Gorgon, but decide to walk, though it’s time I take him out for a good run before he gets as lazy as I’ve been.

I’m being followed, of course. Altar’s ridiculous guard contingent trails behind me like nervous puppies, and while I’d love to send them away, I know it makes him happy, and that makes me happy.

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