But third, and what troubled him most of all, was that it wasn’t Maridrinian nature to hide from anyone. If anything, Silas would have relished the assassination of a daughter or two because it would renew the flagging support of his people for the war against Valcotta.
“She awake yet?”
“No. I came down as soon as Nana deemed her a fit and healthy wife for you, because I wanted to be the one to share the wonderful news.”
His twin’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and Aren shot her a warning look. “Lara is your queen now. Perhaps try showing her a little respect.”
Ahnna responded by flipping him her middle finger. “What are you going to do with Queen Lara?”
“With tits like that, I’d suggest bedding her,” a gravelly voice interjected.
Aren turned to glare at Jor, the captain of his honor guard, who sat on the far side of the fire pit. “Thank you for the suggestion.”
“What were they thinking, dressing her in silk in the pouring rain? Might as well have paraded her naked in front of us all.”
Aren had, in fact, noticed. Even bedraggled by the rain, she’d been stunning, her form curved, her exquisite face framed by hair the color of honey. Not that he’d expected anything else. Despite being past his prime, the King of Maridrina remained a vital man, and it was known he chose the majority of his wives for beauty and nothing else.
The thought of the other king made Aren’s stomach sour. He recalled the smug expression on the Silas’s face as he handed his precious daughter over.
It was an expression the Rat King was entitled to.
While Ithicana was now bound to new and undesirable trade terms, all the King of Maridrina had given up was one of his innumerable children and a promise to continue the peace that had stood between the two kingdoms for the past fifteen years. And not for the first time, Aren cursed his parents for making his marriage to Maridrina part of the agreement.
“A piece of paper with three signatures will do little to unite our kingdoms,” his mother had always replied when he complained. “Your marriage will be the first step toward creating a true alliance between peoples. You will lead by example and, in doing so, you will ensure Ithicana does more than just survive by the skin of its teeth. And if that means nothing to you, then remember that your father gave his word on my behalf.”
And an Ithicanian always kept his word. Which was why, on the fifteenth anniversary of the agreement, despite his parents being a year dead, Aren had sent word to Maridrina to bring their princess to be wed.
“Can’t argue that she’s easy on the eyes. I can only hope I’ll be so lucky.” Though Ahnna’s voice was light, Aren didn’t miss how her hazel eyes turned dull at the mention of her half of the bargain. The King of Harendell, their neighbor to the north, had yet to send for his son’s Ithicanian bride, but with Aren now wed to Lara, it was only a matter of time. Harendell would know by now the terms Maridrina had negotiated, and they’d be keen to extract their own pound of flesh. Both deals would incite retaliation from Amarid. The other northern kingdom’s relationship with Ithicana was already fraught with conflict, given that their merchant ships competed for business with the bridge.
Giving Jor a meaningful look, Aren waited until his honor guard made themselves scarce before saying to his sister in a low voice, “I won’t make you marry the prince, if you don’t wish to. I’ll compensate them some other way. Harendell is more pragmatic than Maridrina; they can be bought.” Because it was one thing for Aren to take a girl he hadn’t chosen and never met as a bride for the sake of peace. Quite another to give his sister to a foreign kingdom, where she’d be alone in a strange place to be used however they willed.
“Don’t be an idiot, Aren. You know I’ll put the good of our kingdom first,” Ahnna muttered, but she leaned against his left shoulder, where she’d stood with him and fought for him all of their lives. “And you didn’t answer my question.”
That was because he didn’t know what he was going to do with Lara.
“We can’t let our guard down,” Ahnna said. “Silas might have promised peace, but don’t for a second believe he intends to honor that for the sake of her. The bastard would probably sacrifice a dozen daughters if it saw us lowering our defenses.”
“I’m aware.”
“She might be beautiful,” his sister continued, “but never believe for a heartbeat that isn’t by design. She’s the daughter of our enemy. He wants you to be distracted by her. She’s probably been instructed to seduce you, to find out what she can about Ithicana’s secrets on the hope she’ll be able to pass them back to her father. We don’t need him holding that kind of bargaining chip.”
“How, exactly, would she manage that? It isn’t as though we’ll be sending her home for visits. She’ll have no contact with anyone outside of Ithicana. He has to know that.”
“Better to be safe. Better that she be kept in the dark.”
“So I should keep her locked up in our parents’ home on this empty island for the rest of her days?” Aren stared at the glowing embers of the fire. A gust of wind drove rain into the hole in the roof above, the droplets hissing as they struck the charred wood. “And if”—he swallowed hard, knowing he had obligations to his kingdom—“when we have a child, should I keep him or her locked up here as well?”
“I never said it would be easy.” His sister took his hand, twisting it upright to regard the cut across his palm, bleeding where he’d picked at the scab. “But our duty is to protect our people. To keep Eranahl a secret. To keep it safe.”
“I know.” But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel an obligation to his new bride. Whom he’d brought through the dark stretches of the bridge, knowing that when she woke, it would be in a place entirely different than any she’d known. Not the life she’d chosen, but one that had been forced upon her.
“You should go up to the house,” Ahnna said. “The sedative will wear off soon enough.”
“You go.” Aren lay back down on the bench, listening to the thunder rolling over the island, the storm nearly passed, though it would soon be replaced by another. “She’s been through enough without waking up in a room with a strange man.”
Ahnna looked for a moment like she might argue, then nodded. “I’ll send word when she wakes.” Rising, she left the barracks on silent feet, leaving him alone.
You’re a coward, he thought to himself. Because it had only been an excuse to avoid seeing the girl. His mother had believed that this princess was the key to achieving greatness for Ithicana, but Aren wasn’t convinced.
Ithicana needed a queen who was a warrior. A woman who’d fight to the death for her people. A woman who was cunning and ruthless, not because she wanted to be, but because her country needed her to be. A woman who’d challenge him every day for the rest of his life. A woman Ithicana would respect.
And there was one thing he was certain: Lara Veliant was not that woman.
6
Lara
Lara woke with a start, her head aching and her mouth tasting sour.