Page 59 of The Fae Kings' Bargain

“What is your name?” he snapped.

Her eyes widened. “Tes.”

“You would do well to consider the full truth.” Toren turned his attention to Mehl for a moment. “See the healer, love. He should be done helping Ria.”

Mehl frowned. “But if you need—”

“Please, Mehl,” he interrupted in a tight voice before his husband could mention Toren’s weak control of his energy. The less revealed about that to the spy, the better. “I am capable of interrogating this criminal.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her wince.

Though Mehl didn’t look pleased, he complied. Toren watched his husband until he settled onto the now-empty side of the sofa where Ria had lain. Ria, who studied Tes with equal parts anger and curiosity—but no real fear. Why? If it wouldn’t threaten his control, he would have asked her telepathically.

Instead, he glared down at his captive once more. “Well? I’ll have your full name, including any titles. I will not ask again.”

She licked her lips. Gods, was even her tongue trembling? What had she heard of him? He could be stern, but he was hardly known for killing those who displeased him. Murder might earn the culprit an official death sentence, but this?

That sort of cruelty was more Ber’s style.

“I am Princess Lora Etessa Breren, the Jewel of Centoi and Heir to King Ryenil of Centoi,” she said, her chin tilting up in sharp contrast with her thin, shaky tone.

Shock tempered his anger into a cold ball in the center of his chest—an unexpected boon for his control. But surely, she was lying. King Ryenil would not have sent his only child here as a spy, not under any circumstances. What game was she playing?

Toren lifted his brows. “That is a bold claim, one that is difficult to countenance.”

“It is nothing but the truth.”

Her shoulders drew back at her words, and he could discern nothing but earnest resolve in her expression. But that brought its own complications. “Am I to understand that the Kingdom of Centoi wishes to court war by attacking one of our sovereign kings?”

“No.” Princess Lora flushed a bright red. “My father isn’t aware that I’m here. As soon as I saw King Mehl’s face, I knew you would claim such, but I give my word it is not so. The king believes I’m on my wedding trip.”

His stomach twisted as all too many things became clear. The invitation to Ber’s wedding, the unusual spy who could enter the family wing, Ria’s abduction—his brother had planned every bit of it, and he’d used this woman in the process. His wife, if she were to be believed. Wasn’t it enough to issue his challenge for the throne without involving Princess Lora?

Without causing injury to Mehl and Ria?

The chill of shock morphed into frigid rage.

“Where is he?” Toren snarled.

She swallowed. “Waiting for me somewhere safe.”

His surging magic practically begged to be freed, but Toren kept a ruthless hold on it as he bent down, lowering his face close to the princess’s. “If you value your life at all, you will tell me what you know. Where is he waiting? What was your mission here?”

Princess Lora tried to ease back, but with her hands bound, she nearly toppled over. Toren gripped her shoulder, his thumb digging into the soft spot above her collarbone just shy of causing pain. So badly, he wanted to tighten his grip until she cried out, but he would not allow himself to be that kind of person.

Not like Ber.

“Last chance,” Toren said, the words sharp and precise.

Although her nostrils flared with anger, she averted her gaze. “I was only to observe. That…and to help any unfortunate consorts escape death.”

Escape death?

Releasing the woman’s shoulder, Toren straightened. What had Ber told the princess? Yes, Toren’s magic was unpredictable, but he’d never harmed anyone he’d bedded. In fact, hewouldn’tsleep with someone who couldn’t tolerate his power, especially since it had grown more…erratic over the last decade or so. His brother was well aware of Toren’s restraint, if not his strengthening magic.

It did make for a convenient excuse, though. Convince the princess she was saving some poor, doomed woman, and if she succeeded, Toren would be without his chance at an heir. The first part had clearly worked. Lora’s expression was filled with such disgust that an outside observer might think she’d caught him in the middle of some debauched murder.

“My brother has misled you greatly,” Toren said. “I have never in my long life harmed a bed partner. And unlike Ber, I’ve never killed anyone. Not by my own hand, though I’ve sentenced my share of criminals.”

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