Page 28 of Prince of Night and Storm
“Not at this time. In any case, you are protected.” Embriel's smile is sad. “Montague wouldn't cross—” He looks like he wants to say more but Baroun shifts, his eyes narrow when I glance at him.
Embriel sighs. “It will not be long now.” His tone and expression alter. “Aerinne?—”
“No,” Baroun says. Their gazes clash. “Nothing you say will change it. He won’t be persuaded, only angered.”
Embriel's eyes flash, his lips thinning. “I am capable of dealing with his anger.”
Darkan scoffs.This is what happens when one allows children an overabundance of agency. They should be kept on a short leash the first thousand years until they learn to stop pissing on the territory of creatures more powerful than they.
Baroun's tone is brutal. “But she's not. She can't handle her own.”
Embriel begins to speak again, then stops. “Ah. He's here.” The princeling glances at me. “You will be fine, Rinne. Everything will be fine, I promise.”
Is he an idiot? “No one can make that promise. Not even your bastard of a father.”
Embriel is the son of the Prince. The Prince killed my mother.
Everything in me goes still.
Baroun grimaces. “This will go so poorly on so many levels.”
“My father will not listen to me. Not in this. He is barely content to wait as long as he agreed.”
A son for a mother. I was focused on Baroun. He's the combatant, the noisy one.
Aerinne.Darkan's voice is soft.Do not go there. I can barely hold him back now,and if you do what you are thinking, the results will be. . .unfortunate.
I'll have to wait. This isn't the right time.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you both,” my brother says, voice sharp enough to slice. “You've gone too far.”
I turn; I hadn't heard him enter. He's in Faronne cobaltfighting leathers, the gold trident and kraken of the ruling House of Avallonne on the chest, his sword and blades strapped on. He pulled his bright hair back in a tail. His eyes glitter with anger and venom.
Yeah. . .we're just all buddies here alright.
“Lady Aerinne, retreat,” he says without looking at me. When I instinctively stiffen, lips pulling back, I force myself to remember he’s my brother, my Lord, and I love him. Maman’d understood. She taught me how to listen to the males. . .when they deserved it. But she’d understood when I couldn’t even then.
Embriel sighs and glances at me, almost regretful. “Remain, Aerinne. Your presence is required.”
The trap,Darkan says,was not for you.
Sir Obvious.
But why? They're friends.
I glance between Danon and Embriel. “You aren't my Lord.”
His expression goes cold. “I am your Prince.”
An overabundance,Darkan repeats.
Danon swears at him. “Aerinne, get out.”
Embriel lifts a hand. The rafters explode.
Warriors drop from above like deadly rain—white and black fighting leathers, flashing blades, the Montague sigil blazing silver on their shoulders. Forty. Maybe more. They pour through side doors, streaming from shadows that seemed empty seconds before.
“Ambush protocol,” Danon snarls. “Protect my Heir.”
