Page 81 of Promise of Darkness
Every inch of me stills.
“This isn’t like him,” Baylor says gruffly. “If it was Finn, I’d say he was led astray by a particularly handsome widow or a grape festival. But Lysander knew the risks. He knew the importance of his mission. He wouldn’t just vanish without due cause. And it’s been a year now.”
“His mission?” I dare to ask, surprised that the rest of the room can’t hear the thud of my heart.
Baylor glances at me. “Forgive me, Princess. But my brother’s task is for the prince’s ears only.”
“A year.” Eris looks uncomfortable. “Do you think—?”
“No,” Baylor snaps. “I don’t. I would know, somehow. And you’re suggesting someone out there has the capacity to kill my brother. Lysander is the best of us all.”
He was.
I want to be sick.
I don’t know why Lysander was sent to Vervain Forest, but he somehow ran afoul of a witch powerful enough to curse-twist him into a bane’s form.
And then he died.
Words bandy around me, plans for war and provenance. I can barely keep the horror off my face.
“This is the last communication I had from Lysander.” Baylor slides a folder of papers across the table toward Finn. They spill from the folder, and I capture them with a swift hand.
Thiago reaches past me and slams his hand on the papers before I can see more than a glimpse of them. “These are not for you, Princess. I’m sorry.”
I lift my hand and let him take the papers. “Don’t be.”
There’s a coat of arms in the top corner, though I only catch a glimpse of it. A basilisk or a wyvern rears its serpentine head, which makes my thoughts race. Several of the nobles near the borders of Asturia use a similar creature, and three of them are within a stone’s throw of Vervain. I’d have to get a better look to see what else was on that shield to know precisely which of my mother’s vassals is writing to the prince.
I can’t stay here any longer, listening to Baylor argue about his brother’s lack of recent communication.
“I think I’m of little value here,” I murmur, pushing to my feet.
Instantly, Thiago rises and draws my chair back. “You might be surprised.”
I grace him with a wan smile. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day, Your Highness.”
His eyes narrow. “You called me Thiago when we were at the hunting cabin.”
“I called you a lot of things.” And I lowered my guard for one dangerous second, only to find he’d driven a fatal blade into my heart. Despite the words I overheard earlier, I’m still recovering from those days together.
Because I… liked him.
I trusted him.
And I hate the fact my mother was right. I hate the fact the prince is only using me as some sort of weapon against my mother. I hate the way they all jest about seduction as if I’m some fool to be lured into his bed.
Never again.
“I’ll walk you back to your—”
“That won’t be necessary,” I say abruptly, cutting him off. There will be no more late-night conversations. No more kisses that extend beyond what is owed.
No more teasing smiles.
No. If the prince is up to something, then he leaves me with no choice. I need to know what he’s up to before I can decide what to do about it.
And to do that, I need him to think nothing is wrong.
