Page 80 of The Crimson Princess
“I won’t let you down,” I say, tormented by the way I’m now pitted against my own father, wishing desperately my mother was here to talk sense into him.
My gaze lifts over Ambrose’s shoulder to find my father watching us. “He’s watching us,” I warn. “We need to disperse.”
Idris offers me an incline of his chin. “Princess,” he murmurs and steps away from our circle.
Ambrose lingers with a message. “For some reason Raven is worried about you, but she’s been avoiding you tonight for fear your father will get upset at you and her. She asked if you can meet her by the pond tonight.”
Raven. How have I forgotten Raven? She’s the keeper of my secret and while I trust her, she must feel isolated and fearful with the knowledge she holds. “I’ll be there.”
He hesitates and adds, “I’m sorry we have to put this on you right after you lost your mother, but I know she’d be proud of how you’ve risen to the challenge. We’re fortunate you’re back before it’s too late.” And with that, he walks away, leaving me to repeat those words in my mind.Before it’s too late.
My father steps in front of me. “What was that about?”
“Mom. They were checking on me.”
“Since when do you and Idris get along that well?”
“We bonded over the werewolves. I guess when he saw how I fight, I earned a little respect, enough that they both asked my thoughts on how to clear the other villages without disrupting the gales who live within the communities. I’m nervous about how uncertain they are about the effort. I think I’m going to sneak out and just walk them through my process last night.”
He stares at me. Just stares at me and I wonder again if he smells Toren on me, or senses the vampire in me, but finally he says. “You don’t want to ride back with Bellar.” It’s not a question.
“I don’t want Bellar to believe we have a weakness he can exploit and werewolves in our villages is a weakness.” I grit my teeth and dare to add, “It tells him we couldn’t control what came through that portal.” And while this topic came to me as a way to cover my true conversation with Idris and Ambrose, I believe what I’m saying. Even Idris and Ambrose have to be questioning exactly what is going on.
Again, he just stares at me, seconds ticking by before he says. “You’re so like your mother. Stubborn, always involved in things that no queen should ever touch, and yet, somehow it became a part of her charm. And now yours. Fine. Go hunt werewolves.”
I’d take this as a win, and compliment even, but I sense his true motivation. I’m right. We don’t want this getting out to the druids.
“Thank you,” I say. “It’s…part of how I’m coping. We hunted together. That’s what we did.” It’s not an admission I mean to share with him, but I think some part of me needs him to be my father, not a king with a volatile decision-making process.
“And now she’s gone,” he says. “I will never be the same.” He says nothing more. He just walks away.
In that moment, I feel his pain knife through me, and I know that he’s grieving. I wonder if the book, the sorceress, senses this, too, and is using his vulnerability against us all to get her war. I can only hope that his truce with the druids is enough to buy us at least a little time to deal with Ruhn and Crya.
Protective of my new abilities, I walk to the corridor, outside the arena, and once I’m out of sight, I blink to the forest. By the time I appear beside the pond, I’m in battle gear and Raven is waiting on me. The moment she sees me, she rushes at me and hugs me. “You’re okay. I’ve been so worried.”
I fold my arms around her and watch the frostburns form a circle around us. Somehow, they already know I’m here.
“I’m good,” I assure her. “I’m better than good.”
She eases back as if to assure herself those words are true. “King Toren. He saved you.” She glances around. “They clearly really see you as their leader.”
“Seems that way,” I agree, “and yes. Toren saved me.”
She hugs herself, a defensive move that tells me what is coming even before she says, “He— you—youdrankfrom him.”
My heart does a wicked uneasy dance. “That’s better left unsaid. And you can’t tell anyone.”
“Never. Ever,” she promises. “You know I won’t do that.” She hesitates. “Are you…like him?”
I sink down on top of a huge rock and she sits next to me, angling to watch my reaction to her question. At this point, she knows. I see no reason not to explain. “My mother was half vampire, but it’s all complicated. She didn’t know until late in life.”
“Right,” she says. “She was found by the magic river. That makes sense, though I don’t think anyone considered she wasn’t gale.”
“I didn’t,” I say. “But we don’t know her parents’ identities.”
“Did the king know she was part vampire?”
“No,” I say firmly. “He doesn’t know about me either and I don’t want to know how he’d react.”
