Page 13 of The Orc's Princess Bride
“Sabotaged the rigging on the cliff patrol route. Cut halfway through the main support rope.” Rook paused. “It was the cause of the rockslide two weeks ago.”
Cold fury washed through him. Four warriors had died in that rockslide. They had assumed it was a terrible accident, but now they knew it had been deliberate. And there was another aspect to the incident that gave him pause. He regularly joined that patrol along that route. The only reason he hadn’t been with those warriors was because he’d been called to the Fanged Gate. What if the sabotage hadn’t been aimed at random warriors—what if it had been meant for him?
“And Dren?” he asked.
“Found dead this morning behind the stables. Throat cut.” Rook’s mismatched eyes narrowed. “Professional work. No witnesses.”
The pieces aligned with terrible clarity. The silk from Jessamin’s dowry used to bribe a traitor. The assassination attempt. The clean elimination of the only witness. This was no random act of sabotage—this was a coordinated strike against the crown—and he had no doubt at all that Lasseran was behind it.
“Have you told the queen about the silk?” Ulric asked.
“No, my king. I came to you first.”
He nodded, grateful for Rook’s discretion. Jessamin had been reviewing the ledgers, looking for discrepancies. Her dedication to mastering Norhaven’s resources was admirable, but he wouldn’t have her involved in this. Not when the danger was so clear.
A thunderous cheer erupted from the arena as another stone landed, drawing Ulric’s attention back to the competition. His gaze found Jessamin again, watching her smile and applaud politely. The sunlight caught in her hair, turning it to spun gold.
His decision crystallized in that moment. He had to root out the source of these issues and put an end to it—for her sake as much as his.
“I will lead the next patrol along the cliff route,” he announced, and Rook’s eyes widened. They both knew that there was the possibility of another attempt.
“My king, with respect?—”
“I need to look at the sabotage scene myself and understand what we’re facing.”
“We could send?—”
“No,” he said firmly. “This was meant for me. I will face it directly.”
Rook fell silent, recognizing the futility of argument. After a moment, he gave a short bow. “When will you depart?”
“Tomorrow at dawn. Choose six of our most trusted warriors to accompany me.” He turned back toward the arena. “And Rook—speak of this to no one.”
The spymaster melted away without another word, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He knew what he was about to do—walk into a trap, deliberately springing it to draw out the traitor. It was reckless, perhaps even foolish, but necessary.
He returned to his seat to find Wulf watching him suspiciously and he bit back a sigh.
“Did Rook have any news?” the other male asked softly. He should have known that Wulf would have spotted the spymaster.
“Nothing specific,” he said, truthfully enough. “A stable hand has been murdered.”
“Why a stable hand, I wonder?”
Thankfully Jessamin turned to him before Wulf could ask any more questions. Despite his cowardly avoidance of the riding lessons, she smiled at him, a smile that warmed something deep in his chest.
“Who will win, do you think?” she asked, nodding toward the two remaining competitors.
“Grul,” he answered automatically, noting the warrior’s stance. “He conserves his strength between throws. Harsk is already tiring.”
She studied the competitors with newfound interest. “I see it now. Grul is patient.”
Her perception impressed him, as always. She didn’t just observe; she understood. In another life, without the weight of his crown, he might have pulled her into his arms right then, might have shown her how deeply he valued that quick mind of hers.
Instead, he watched the conclusion of the competition, making appropriate comments when required, while his mind churned with darker thoughts. Someone inside his household—perhaps even now watching from these very stands—wanted him dead and had used silk from Jessamin’s dowry to pay for his assassination. But who? Had the same person been behind the attempt on Jessamin’s life?
As the final stone landed and the crowd roared its approval, he rose to his feet. The crowd fell silent, waiting.
“Strength has been proven today,” he declared, his voice carrying across the arena. “Honor has been earned.”
