Chapter 49

49

Cassius

I retreated to my tower the moment I left Ella's side. Despite my immortal speed, the guards were already marching her out the gate by the time I reached the balcony. My heart pulled against my chest, as if caught by a ship's anchor.

I watched, arms tightly crossed, until she left the winding royal carriageway and disappeared behind the houses of Upper Town. The ache in my chest should have eased, but it seemed to worsen by the second. A deep, relentless melancholy stretched over my thoughts like shadows consuming the day.

I slammed the doors to my balcony shut behind me as I stormed inside. What I felt and wanted didn't matter. She was gone, and it was for the best. I'd be free to do my duty, as much as I despised it, and she'd be safe from the Triad and the new queen.

I turned my attention to the wretched stack of papers I'd been avoiding since Aamon had delivered them. Shuffling through the loose sheets, I found my quarry.

Lady Marbury from House Darr in Turmoor. Beautiful and obedient, the lady hails from an old bloodline with relations across the Alyrian Sea. No established political ties in the Bloodvale. Said to be of even temperament and kind to her people and staff. A keen rider and lover of horses.

"Well, fuck." I shook my head in disbelief as I skimmed the rest and set the sheet down.

The more I read, the more certain I was that Ella had to have read the dossier. The castle was awash with gossip about the potential suitors, but Marbury had neither visited nor formally written, so it was unlikely that her name was part of the rumor mill.

I fisted the papers on my desk as a consuming anger blossomed. I'd always suspected, hadn't I? The first day she'd come to work for me, I'd caught her under my desk. She hadn't been cleaning but rather snooping through my belongings. She'd read through Aamon's notes and put them back carefully. Almost perfectly, but not quite. The inkwell had been moved.

I'd known—I just hadn't wanted to believe it.

Like a fool playing with fire, I'd enabled her at every step. I'd given her free rein of my quarters. When she'd broken into the Triad's garden, I'd protected her instead of punishing her. And when she'd pressed me for information, I'd poured it out recklessly like a drunkard pouring himself a glass of wine.

And I'd do it all again.

I hurled my desk against the wall, the wood and plaster buckling and splintering under the force. It did little to lighten my dark mood.

I leaned against the archway leading to my balcony, staring out at the night. Ella was gone, and soon, she'd be a memory—one I'd probably cherish and curse for the rest of my days.

But the question remained: who was she working for?

Not the sisters. While Lorayna and Bianca's father, Lord Perrault, had been trying to unseat my brother for years, their torment of Ella had been real. They lacked subtlety, and they weren't clever enough to pull off a charade.

My eyes fell upon the crumpled sheet with the painting of Lady Marbury on it. She was the image of sweetness. Perhaps she'd recruited Ella to drive me toward her. Perhaps that was the reason for Ella's final tortuous words.

She'd be good for the kingdom, and she'd make a good match.

Could Marbury have been behind it all?

There was a knock on the door, and I wrenched it open, revealing Aamon, who looked satisfied. "Impressive, Cassius. I doubted you had the balls to get rid of her. Either you came to your senses or you actually feel something for that girl."

I didn't know what I felt. Anger. Frustration. Longing. It didn't matter.

"What's done is done." I shut the door as he stepped in.

"You're pacing like a madman. Did something happen?"

"The sisters or others might try to find a way to torment her now that she's beyond the castle walls. I want it known throughout the castle that if anything happens to Ella, there will be hell to pay—and it starts with both their heads."

He nodded, then glanced at my broken desk and papers scattered across the floor. "Should I be worried?"

I had the urge to tell him everything, but instead, I found myself protecting the little spy once again. "I'm fine. Just tired of being trapped."

If Aamon suspected she was a spy, he'd have her killed without question. Then I'd have to kill him. I didn't want any of that.

He toed the splintered remains of one of the desk's legs. "Oh. I thought it might be a ploy to request a new maid."

I ignored the smirking bastard and knelt to gather up the papers. "What do you know of Lady Marbury? Besides the scribble of notes you left."

Aamon's eyes brightened the way they usually did after he'd murdered somebody. "She'd be a fine match, Your Royal Highness."

I slapped the pile of papers down on a side table. "So I've been told. But what makes you so sure?"

He immediately began leafing through them. "Her family has ruled their lands for two centuries without serious bloodshed. They govern with a strong but fair hand. Lady Marbury is the eldest of the three daughters, and she has held a minor but not insignificant role in administering their titled lands. She has done so fairly, neither squeezing the peasants for taxes nor ignoring the needs of their house." He slipped Lady Marbury's portrait out of the stack. "She is also very pretty, is she not?"

Long raven hair. Emerald eyes. High cheeks and ruby lips. She was strikingly beautiful.

But she isn't Ella.

"Having a pretty face is the least of my concerns," I said.

Aamon raised his brows. "Unless that pretty face has lavender eyes and silver hair, right?"

I kept my expression placid. Ella was gone. I couldn't let myself think of her. That affair was over.

"Are you certain that Lady Marbury doesn't have any political motives for becoming Queen of the Bloodvale? No hidden alliances with any of the high lords?"

Aamon laughed when he realized I was serious. "I highly doubt it. Look, Cassius, I handpicked each of those suitors. You can rest assured that I've pored over every detail of their lives, including their social and political connections, as well as their deepest secrets. No one is going to be perfect, but Lady Marbury would be as close as you could get. I don't know why I didn't see it myself."

He hadn't, but Ella had. Somehow, her instincts for what I needed had been better than those of my closest friend and advisor.

I withdrew the paper from the stack and read the profile again with bittersweet attention. I grew more and more certain as I read that Ella had not been ordered to whisper Marbury's name in my ear. It had been a parting gift—the one name that might bring peace to the kingdom, and perhaps a little peace for me: Lady Marbury.

I wished that the name had been Ella's.

The thought was sheer madness. She was a human and a spy, likely for the resistance, if it did exist. And yet, my heart called to her.

If you fall in love, the woman you choose will destroy everything your father built. And if she ever takes the throne, she will make your people pay the price of their thirst.

My jaw tightened. Had this been what the old woman meant?

Perhaps.

The weight of duty felt heavy on my shoulders as I looked at the paper again. No matter my desires, my kingdom came first. Lady Marbury was a woman who wasn't part of the court or a murderous lunatic. She shared an interest in horses and could make a strong ally. And most importantly, she was a woman I could never love because she'd always remind me of the one I might have had, had my life been my own.

That was what my duty demanded. I picked up Marbury's creased profile and handed it to Aamon with a nod. "I think Lady Marbury may be the one."