Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

“I can’t even imagine it,” Naomi whispered from where she stood, staring out the window of my antechamber, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “The idea of there being a siege— a war.”

Part of me thought that maybe I shouldn’t have told Naomi what I’d learned about the Westlands army when I’d crossed paths with her upon leaving the dining hall. It wasn’t because I feared that she would then go and tell others, possibly causing a panic. I knew she wouldn’t. I just hated seeing her concerned— afraid.

“You know when I said that I’d hoped there’d be lords here in time for the Feasts?” Naomi looked over her shoulder at me, the pale lavender of her gown standing out starkly against the night sky beyond the window. “I didn’t mean an army of them.”

“I know,” I said from where I sat on the settee, my legs tucked underneath me. Thoughts heavy, I fiddled with one of the laces on my gown.

“Have you told Grady yet?” she asked.

I shook my head. I wanted to, but seeing Grady right now meant that I would also have to tell him about this new arrangement— something I knew he wouldn’t respond well to. I would somehow need to convince him that I had agreed to keeping the Prince company, but apparently, I wasn’t all that convincing when it came to my emotions. I still couldn’t believe that Claude had known why I stayed in Archwood— that he had always known. I didn’t know how to feel about it. I didn’t know why that made me . . . sad. I couldn’t even begin to figure that out when I had this to deal with.

Pulling my gaze from where I’d placed the ruby headpiece on a small table, I glanced at the door. The hour was almost upon me. My stomach dipped. “When Claude summoned me last night, he sent me to one of the Hyhborn who’d arrived ahead of the regiment. Claude hadn’t known why the Hyhborn were here yet and he’d wanted me to find out why.”

Naomi turned from the window, the delicate arches of her brows rising. “My gods, you’re just now telling me about this?” she asked. “I would’ve expected you to have been at my chamber doors first thing in the morning. I’m so disappointed in you.”

Unfurling my legs, I scooted to the edge of the settee. “Don’t be disappointed. There wasn’t much to tell.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Lis. There has to be a whole lot to tell.” Her eyes widened as she stepped forward. “Unless you used the Long Night last night? On a Hyhborn lord?”

“I didn’t try. I wasn’t sure if it would work and I didn’t risk it,” I told her. “And it wasn’t a lord. It was the Prince.”

“The Prince?” she repeated, lips parting. “The Prince of Vytrus?”

I nodded.

“Holy shit. I need a moment to process this— Wait.” Her eyes bravely met mine. “Did . . . did something happen when you were with the Prince?” Everything about Naomi changed in an instant. Gone was the teasing seductress, and in her place was an alert tigress. “What happened last night, Lis?”

“Nothing I didn’t allow to happen— nothing that I didn’t want,” I assured her. “He was— I don’t know.” I shook my head. “Not as I expected.”

“He’s said to be— ”

“A monster. I know, but he’s . . .” Prince Thorne was a lot of things— infuriating and entitled, demanding and annoying— but he wasn’t a monster. “I don’t think a lot of what has been said about him is the truth.”

“For real?”

“Yes. I promise.”

“Good.” She relaxed, unfolding her arms. “I would’ve hated having to get myself killed in the process of chopping off a Hyhborn prince’s dick.”

A loud laugh burst out of me.

Naomi crossed her arms. “You think I’m lying?”

“I don’t. That’s why I find it funny.”

“This is the perfect distraction.” She nudged my foot with hers. “I want every last juicy detail about how the dreaded Prince of Vytrus was not as you . . . expected.” She winked. “And I may need a demonstration of exactly how.”

“Well, there may not be time for that,” I said with a nervous hitch to my voice. “There’s more. The Prince requested— and I use the word ‘requested’ in the barest sense possible— that I keep him company during his time at Archwood.”

She blinked once, then twice. “Seriously?”

“Unfortunately.” I gripped the edge of the settee.

She stared at me for what felt like a full minute. “Okay, I don’t believe nothing much happened last night. What are these things that you willingly did that must’ve impressed him enough to request such a thing?”

“Trust me, he wasn’t impressed.” Clearly he wasn’t all that impressed, since he didn’t believe I was as experienced as I’d tried and failed to present myself as. “I think he . . . You know, I honestly don’t know why. It makes little sense to me.”

Coming to the settee, she sat beside me. “It’s obvious you’re not thrilled about this. Did you not . . . enjoy your time with him?”

“It’s not that.” I brushed a strand of hair back from my face. “I did enjoy it.”

“But?”

“He didn’t really ask, Naomi. It was more like pretending to ask. He made it clear that he wouldn’t be happy with a no for an answer.”

“I’m surprised he even pretended, to be honest— and I know that’s not the point,” she added when I opened my mouth. “I’ve just never really heard of the Hyhborn actually asking for permission for anything.”

Neither had I. “I don’t like that he thinks he can just make such a demand, and I don’t care if he’s a prince or not. That shouldn’t matter.”

“No, it shouldn’t,” she agreed. “And it would piss me off too.” She glanced over at me. “Did you agree to it?”

“Not really.” I sighed.

“And what did Claude say about this?” Naomi asked, then snorted. “Then again, what could he truly say? A Hyhborn is denied nothing.”

“Exactly,” I muttered. “But here’s the strange thing. Claude has always behaved as if he feared that being around Hyhborn could lead to them accusing me of using bone magic. And I never really believed that to be the sole reason. I think he was also worried another would, I don’t know, coax me away . . . but he was actually relieved by the Prince’s request.”

“I . . .” Naomi’s nose scrunched. “That is strange.”

“Yeah.”

She was quiet for a couple of moments. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” I leaned back against the cushion, folding my arms. My thoughts raced. I knew it wouldn’t be wise to deny a prince, so I had to proceed with caution. “But if he thinks that I’m just going to submit and make this easy for him? He has another think coming.”

A knock came shortly after Naomi had left. I hadn’t wanted her caught in the middle when Prince Thorne came for me. I had no idea what I was going to do, let alone how the Prince would respond.

Except it wasn’t him at the door.

Lord Bastian stood in the hall, his mouth curved in a half grin. “Good evening,” he said, bowing slightly. My eyes were drawn to the dagger strapped to his chest. “I’m to escort you to Prince Thorne.”

My back stiffened as I clasped the side of the door, and I wasn’t sure why, but Prince Thorne sending another to escort me hit every nerve in my body the wrong way. “He was unable to come himself?”

“Unfortunately no.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “He is running a bit behind and asked that I go in his stead.”

“I apologize for wasting your time.” I spoke carefully, having no idea how this Hyhborn lord would respond. “But I have no intentions of joining Prince Thorne this evening.”

Dark brows lifted. “You do not?”

“No. I’m not feeling all that well,” I said. “He will need to find some other way to occupy his time.”

The nearby buttery light of a wall sconce glanced off the smooth, dark skin above his neatly trimmed beard. “Is there something that I could get for you then?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re feeling unwell.” The green of his eyes brightened to the point where I couldn’t see the other colors. “Is there something I can retrieve for you?”

I blinked rapidly. “Th— ” I stopped myself, and the other side of Lord Bastian’s lips tipped up. “I appreciate your offer, but I have what I need.”

“You sure?” he pressed. “It will be no trouble.”

I nodded. “Again, I apologize for wasting your time, my lord. I do wish you a good evening.” I moved to close the door.

Lord Bastian moved so fast I couldn’t even hope to track his movement. One hand shot out, landing on the center of the door and stopping me from closing it. “May I ask what is ailing you?” Lord Bastian dipped his chin. “Thor will ask, after all.”

“Thor?” I murmured.

“Short for Thorne. It annoys him when we call him that, so of course, that is all we call him.” Lord Bastian winked.

“Oh.” That was my most intelligent response. I was a little thrown by his teasing nature. “I . . . I, uh, have a headache.”

“Ah, I see.” Straight white teeth appeared as the Lord smiled more broadly. “I’m guessing that headache is a rather large one? Perhaps if you had to describe it, you’d say that it came in a six-foot-and-seven-inch frame?”

I snapped my mouth shut.

Lord Bastian chuckled. “I will let him know that you are . . . feeling under the weather.” His hand slid off the door. “I do hope you don’t find yourself plagued by an even larger headache.” He stepped back, clasping his hands behind his back once more. “Good evening.”

“Good evening.” I closed the door, going rigid when I heard his muffled laugh from the hall.

Clearly, Lord Bastian didn’t believe me. Or more accurately, he’d guessed the source of my fabricated headache.

But Prince Thorne would have to be a right ass if he sent another or came himself after hearing that I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t think it would hold him off forever, but it should at least give me the night to figure out what I was going to do— what I could do— and possibly longer, since he said he had to leave to meet with his armies.

But do you really want to stop him from coming?that annoying voice whispered.

“Yes,” I hissed, toeing off my shoes. I crossed the antechamber, my bare feet sinking into the soft area rug as I went to the small credenza and poured myself a half shot of whiskey. The liquor was the best Archwood had to offer, mellow and smooth with the barest taste of alcohol. Or so everyone said. I could still taste the bite of liquor, but I downed the whiskey, lips peeling back against the burn.

It did little to calm my nerves, and I poured myself another half shot and brought it with me as I walked to the window. I looked past the golden sōls dancing in the night sky.

By the time the Feasts were in full swing, the Prince’s armies would be at Archwood. Then, how long before the Iron Knights made their way here? It took no leap of logic to assume that the act had more to do with the importance of the port and the Hyhborn Court seated just beyond than it did with the people who called Archwood home.

I rested my cheek against the window, thinking of what the people of Archwood would think once they saw the Hyhborn forces. Once they learned of the Westlands threat? The fear and dread would be palpable. I swallowed the whiskey, welcoming the bite this time. The aristo would likely abandon the city until the threat had passed. Many had families in other cities and the means with which to travel there. But the poorest among the Archwood— the miners and dockworkers, the laborers? Everyone who kept the city and the ports open and running? There’d be no easy escape for them. They’d have to ride it out—

I felt the sudden shifting in the chamber. Tiny hairs along the nape of my neck rose as a charge hit the air. A clicking noise sent a shiver over my skin— the distinctive sound of a lock.

Heart thudding, I slowly turned to the door. There was no way. I lowered the empty glass to my side.

The door swung open and he stood there, legs planted wide and shoulders squared, hair swept back from his striking features and knotted. The armor still shielding his chest. He looked like a warrior, and one thing became clear.

Prince Thorne had come to conquer.