Page 62 of The Fae Queen's Revenge

Tonight, she and Ber would need to begin their plans.

It wasn’tuntil Ber returned to his rooms to change into practice gear that he was able to study the paper Halueth had passed him. But he hadn’t forgotten it—it had burned against his wrist for the entire time he’d suffered through the day’s batch of unfortunate decrees. Only discipline had kept him from sneaking a glance. So as soon as he sat in the silence of his dressing room, he pulled the scrap from his sleeve.

I overheard certainspecialbodyguards bragging that they’d been tasked with teaching you a lesson. The archer was not one of them and had been expected to die one way or another. Some false evidence was planted with him, but the guards could only speculate on the details. They seem to believe the broken light globe display to be accidental, the poison part of the paint, and added that to their report accordingly. Theymentioned no solid plans to attack but anticipate new orders within the week. Possibly within the day.

I’ve also heard more careful, jesting threats from Duke Aony’s guard. Be cautious. For any of our warriors to mention harming the crown prince, the danger must be absolute and imminent. --H

Ber crumpled the paper in his hand. He’d guessed as much, yet it was still sobering to read. King Ryenil had arranged an assassin for him. But had he intended for the assassin to succeed, or had he solely meant to strike at Llyalia by implicating King Mehl? In the case of the latter, it also would have been a coded warning to Ber to behave, which was typical of the king.

But previous intentions could shift at any time, especially after the arrival of Lady Selesta. If Ryenil managed to marry the woman quickly and produce a daughter, Ber would have a couple of decades in the king’s uneasy graces while the child grew to a marriageable age. However, if Ryenil had a son, Ber’s days would be numbered. The king’s plans would shift to arranging a marriage with Toren’s daughter.

They simply couldn’t risk finding out which might prevail.

Ber contemplated every possible move as he made his way to the training field. None of them were precisely good, because they would all place Tes in danger. Maybe even Speran. Scowling at the thought, Ber clenched his fist around the first practice sword he found and stomped his way across the field in search of Ilduin.

He wasn’t there yet, of course, if he intended to attend the practice at all. So Ber chose a partner at random and worked out his frustrations on the other man’s terrible form. Then another warrior’s shoddy defenses. Perhaps if he trounced enough people here, it would do his temper good.

“I’m no longer certain I want a consultation,” a voice drawled behind him as the latest match drew to a close.

Ber nodded to his opponent before turning to face Lord Ilduin. “It was you who requested it.”

“Of course, of course.” The man grimaced. “Perhaps we could have our little session…a bit away from the rest? I have no doubt this will be humiliating enough without the others hearing your criticism.”

Ber shrugged, though in truth, he admired the man’s clever thinking. “As you prefer.”

They found a spot on the distant side of the field, away from the bulk of the soldiers. It was in no way fully private, but it was the closest they were likely to get. So with a resigned sigh, Ilduin hefted his practice blade and settled into some semblance of a position.

“I truly dislike this so-called art form,” the man grumbled.

“I’m aware,” Ber said. “So perhaps we can finish this quickly.”

Ber swung into an attack, and Ilduin countered with a clumsy feint. It didn’t get better from there. Time after time, the man struggled to keep up, until Ber found himself snapping out commands in earnest. By the time they stopped for the lord to catch his breath, Ber had nearly forgotten the purpose of the meeting.

Ilduin leaned against the nearby wall and wiped his brow. “I wanted to talk more than learn,” he muttered.

Ber gave a quick grin. “Sorry. Your previous teachers must have been dreadful.”

“Perhaps.” Ilduin rubbed the back of his neck, dabbing at the sweat with his sleeve. “Aony wants you dead. He probably has ill intentions toward his sister, too, but not until well after she’s wed to the king.”

“This is not news.” Ber grimaced. “Though his lack of care for his sister would warrant his death all on its own.”

The other man let out a softhmm. “That’s the thing about you, Prince Ber. A dark killer, yet so concerned for another man’s sibling. I do believe your act begins to wear thin.”

“I thought you weren’t certain of me.”

“I’m not certain of anything,” Ilduin said, a hard note entering his voice. “Except that Aony cannot be king. I give my blood-sworn oath that I will be your ally to prevent that, even if it means interfering in the king’s marriage plans.”

Ber lifted a brow. “Treason, Ilduin?”

The man met his gaze with steady resolve. “Only if your loyalty is to a person rather than Centoi.”

Ber studied him for a long moment, but the lord didn’t waver.He’s serious. Dead serious.After years of straddling the line, his relative neutrality a given, Ilduin had finally chosen a side. And it wasn’t Ryenil.

“What if you learned that there was another living heir of Centoi royal blood?” Ber asked carefully.

Ilduin’s brow crinkled. “I was given to understand that your child died with Princess Lora.”

“I’m not talking about my child,” Ber said, his attention locked on the other man’s face for the slightest reaction. “And she prefers—preferred—Etessa. Never Lora.”

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