Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

TRESSYA

Radnisa kept her smirk, regardless of what menial task she was required to perform. Two days since our arrival, and she'd witnessed Juel's dismissal of me enough times to please her until death.

"I suggest you keep your mouth shut," she added to the long list of suggestions she'd already unhelpfully made. "No need to embarrass yourself so soon. And avoid those wizards. They mustn't know our business. Give the king an heir, the Sistern a daughter, and the Creed of Salmun won't be able to interfere."

She yanked my hair extra hard as she wove my strands into a messy style on top of my head. "They mustn't know we're daughters of the Sistern."

Henricus had appointed me a string of lady's maids, but for the first time since Radnisa walked into my room as my lady-in-waiting six years prior, she insisted on doing everything herself, so she could gloat at every moment.

"You're lucky Queen Gusselan is ill and keeps to her bed. I've heard she has quite the tongue." She sighed. "The gossip in this place. It spreads faster than the pox." Then she smirked, forcing me to wait for whatever malicious treat she hoped to share. "Juel can't keep to one woman in his bed. It seems the prince has quite the appetite."

Her cruel glare flicked to my reflection in the mirror, wanting to catch my response.

"He's no different from any man?"

She arched a manicured brow. "It would seem."

My lips twitched at her sour tone. She'd not made the wounds she hoped to make. I didn't need court gossip to learn about my future husband. Remaining invisible at my father's court won me the seclusion I'd wanted to observe and learn. I had seen and heard enough court intrigue and inflammatory gossip to know court life was more dangerous than living in the wilds, perhaps more dangerous than the feared Huungardred.

"I've heard he gifted a very expensive necklace to his current mistress for your betrothal ball. You'll just have to wear those."

She nodded to the jewelry laid on the bureau before me. The jewelry I'd always worn to the balls back home.

"You mean the set I love." I didn't care what I wore around my neck or in my ears. In fact, I was happier with nothing at all. Jewelry was a hindrance in a fight.

Radnisa pinched her lips tight and tugged more strands up into the ugly knot atop my head, taking delight in dressing me to look a fool. It was the reason she'd shooed the other maids away. I was within Emberfell now. King Henricus had accepted me. There was no need to preen and fuss over my appearance, so Radnisa would do her best to turn me into the court jester, which I welcomed. I'd been foolish to wallow in fantasies. Now I was cured. My duty was to birth an heir and a daughter for the Sistern, not to love my husband or have him love me in return. And since I despised my future husband, the less time I spent in his bed, the happier the two of us would be.

"Juel will do his duty as I'll perform mine, and then we won't bother with each other again."

But maybe I would find a way out of this mess through the poison in my veins, thanks to the beast-man. I still felt strong, so the poison had not progressed, which made me wonder if the beast-man told the truth. However, it made no sense for him to lie.

"You'll likely be called upon to perform certain duties outside the bedchamber. Then there will be the balls and festivities and the many other appearances you and your husband will be required to make. I'm afraid it will be difficult to stay out of his way."

She placed the remaining pins on the bureau in front of me and stepped away. "You'll never be free of him."

I rose from my stool. "True. But at least I'll be a queen."

As queen, I would have certain privileges, such as choosing who would attend me. If it was my choice, Radnisa would be the first to go. Except, it would never be my choice, even as queen, for the Mother had chosen Radnisa as my shadow.

I spun to leave, only to be hit by Radnisa's glare. Her hatred spread like a living presence, clawing its way with vicious talons toward me. I turned my back on her, the only recourse I had, and faced the mirror once more.

One calming breath, and I was ready to leave my room, but Radnisa's footsteps held me in place. I listened to their soft approach, then looked at her reflection as she stepped up beside me.

"Remember, sister." Her voice, like syrup, poured over my skin. "I command soul voice. Not you."

I turned my head to face her, my eyes on the smug curve of her lips. Even as a loyal disciple, I knew Radnisa would do the forbidden and command my soul word just for the pleasure of watching me suffer. And who would know? Not the Mother or any of the Sistern, only Radnisa and I.

I shifted my gaze from her lips to the hard edge of her glare, the watery-green of her eyes like the ocean depths that had almost swallowed me.

I couldn't breathe with all the thoughts cramming my head. The Mother wanted me linked to the Tarragona throne because of my connection to the dead—else why enhance my gift in the death arts—and she chose Radnisa to come with me because she was uncertain I would do what needed to be done. If that was the case, Radnisa would have permission to use my soul word against me. Under the command of my soul word, what would Radnisa have me do? No, that had to be wrong. The Mother knew I would do anything she asked. I'm no less loyal than Radnisa. Perhaps this was nothing more than yet another of Radnisa's taunts.

As if she read my mind, she smirked and arched a brow, daring me to voice my thoughts.

My composure lost, I spun from her and hurried to the door. Not even my calming breaths would work for me now. Every hasty step I made was a revelation of my inner turmoil for Radnisa to pick over and savor. I loathed giving her so much, but I couldn't remain in her presence any longer. Already a fist squeezed at my lungs, leaving me with shallow, pitiful breaths.

In the corridor, I pressed against the wall, clutching Carlin's bone carving while I tried to find my years of discipline.

"At last, I have found the treasure of Tarragona."

I jerked at Andriet's sudden appearance. This was the second time someone had slipped under my guard and caught me unawares. "Andriet." Even so, he was the one person I would happily let surprise me. The noose of what I'd learned still hung around my neck, but Andriet's smile was like rescuing hands loosening it and allowing me to breathe.

He frowned down at me. "Are you nervous?" The concern in his voice eased the noose some more.

I pushed off the wall. "A little. But not now."

"Of course you would be nervous. This is your first time appearing before my father's court. You needn't worry, though. I'll stay by your side until you're confident to stand on your own."

I fell into his dark-colored eyes, dark for mysteries and secrets, but I doubted Andriet held too many of those. At least nothing malicious. I shouldn't trust so easily, but there was something open and honest about him, something that reminded me of… I pressed my hand over the bone necklace, the only reminder I could allow myself to hold of what I'd left behind.

"You can dance, can't you?"

"Yes, but poorly."

He wrinkled his nose. "You just have to follow me. I'm an adept partner. I won't let you trip."

His gaze shifted to the shocking mess Radnisa had made of my hair. "What a fabulous style."

"Radnisa has a way with hair," I responded deadpan.

He feigned surprise. "The snake likes to do hair? I never would've guessed." He crooked his arm at me.

"Tell me," he continued once we were walking. "How did you get stuck with that one? She's all bristles and spikes. I would say if I stripped her bare, I would find jutting hips and spiked tits." He shuddered to make his point.

"I doubt you'd ever get that far. Radnisa is… capable." I shouldn't reveal any more than that.

"Like you?"

I stuck out my bottom lip, pretending to think, but Andriet beat me to my reply. "Impossible. No one's like you."

He patted my hand, then guided me down the sweeping staircase. I was no humble woman with a provincial upbringing, but Emberfell was worth a gasp. The ceiling towered above us, cut skyward as coarse and violent as the spears of the steeples outside, and dark, like a half-moon night.

"Tressya…" Andriet stopped us on the stairs, touching my hand, then frowned and continued on down the stairs.

I didn't press him, seeing the conflict in his expression. If it was important, he would find the right words to say. Instead, I looked down on the vast hall in front of us, empty of any furnishing that might make it feel like a more welcoming place.

We reached the bottom step when Andriet turned to me, taking my hand. "I want to apologize for my brother."

"You really?—"

"I'm sorry, but he can be a swine at times. Not always easy to get along with. Father indulges him because he's the crown prince." He patted my hand again, like a parent soothing a child. "The two of you shall get along?—"

"Andriet. You don't have to pretend. I'm no stranger to the royal court and its tight circle of personalities. There's nothing you need to apologize for."

"It's just… Juel needs to be handled in a certain way."

It was my turn to pat his hand reassuringly. "I know exactly what you mean."

His eyes narrowed before he shared a devious smile. "I believe you do." Then he winked at me, taking my arm in the crook of his once more. "You have no idea how delighted I am that it's you who shall be queen."

Radnisa and her cruel taunts and my sudden revelatory thoughts faded when I was with Andriet. Curse my fate he should be the youngest brother.

Andriet moved close beside me, as he tucked my arm into his. It seemed he was determined to keep his promise to stay by my side. That I was grateful for, and the fact Juel felt it beneath him to escort his bride to the ball.

"Are you ready to shock the foundations of Emberfell's court?"

"I am." I glanced up at Andriet's broad smile and wide eyes, unable to believe my luck in finding such an ally. Hopefully for once my fate would allow me to keep someone kind.

Swallowing my sudden emotions, I stared ahead to the grand doors. I could already hear the music from the other end of the cavernous hall. Sentinels flanked the doors, dressed in bone-white doublets and breeches, rather than the outfits I had seen through Emberfell these last few days.

We walked to the entrance, Andriet pausing on hearing my inhale as I took in the ballroom's expanse. In a balcony high above the crowd, the musicians perched with their instruments. At the opposite end, on the ground floor, stretched a large table the width of the room and brimming with food. King Henricus commanded the head of the table, flanked by nobility and other important figures. Those seated at the king's table were people I would make it my business to learn everything about, as most who sat there were usually enemies. That was my first lesson upon entering my father's court.

The queen's seat was vacant, as was Juel's to his right.

Andriet guided me through the throng of dancers, and with each step we made, the music faded, and the dancers parted to create a path leading to the king.

Whispers flared all around too low for me to hear, which was a mercy, for I was sure they said nothing nice. The seamstresses commissioned to improve my wardrobe were half as skilled as those who created the clothes of the Tarragona courtiers. The women's gowns were voluminous, covered in lace, silk, jewels, and every vibrant color. My pale green gown looked heavy and drab in comparison. Ladies wearing adornments in their hair seemed the style in Emberfell, something Radnisa would have paid attention to and ignored while preparing me for tonight.

The herald pushed off the wall and scuttled to take his place before the king with a sweeping bow. "Your Highnesses, Prince Andriet and the Princess Tressya."

"I know my son, you fool," the king grouched, then his shifted his gaze to me. "You look quite fine." His eyes trawled over my body with no hint of his thoughts. "I shall instruct the royal seamstresses to dress you in the latest Tarragona fashion. It's a shame the queen is not present tonight to lend you advice. These matters are beyond me." He waved a hand as if to be rid of us. "Andriet take her around the floor. Everyone needs to see her dance."

My eyes scraped the table, memorizing faces, as Andriet drew me away toward the middle of the room and the dancers, who'd already resumed in time with the music.

Far behind the king's table, lurking in the shadows, were two hooded figures: the Salmun. I had rarely seen the wizards during the last two days. Andriet had said they preferred to stay in the shadows, interfering little in court life. Although they were present at every meeting of the king's council, they never spoke a word but regularly attended the king in private. The shadows were the best place for the cunning and schemers.

Andriet squeezed my hand, offering me a thin smile as he spun me around and into his arms. He was an accomplished dancer and a strong partner, ensuring I didn't embarrass myself by missing my steps. I kept my eyes on him to avoid the stares I could feel hammering into me as we swung around the room.

"There," Andriet began. "The short, stout man with the generous belly, wearing a mustache wider than his face, is Marquess Mendel. Owns titles across the eastern lands and has a seat within the king's council. His voice on the council is the loudest."

Andriet guided me further along the room. "His wife, the marchioness, is the one with the red hair."

He nodded to the three women huddled together and deep in conversation. The chalk color of their skin, thanks to a thick layer of white paste, made them all appear like ghosts if not for the rich red they'd painted on their lips.

"She's in love with the Duke of Eerlie. He's the one standing by the last pillar. We're about to pass him now. Also on the king's council. He loathes Mendel, by the way, but not as much as he loathes Lord Arobet, who's gambled all his money and is in deep debt. And we shan't tell the duke's wife about his indiscretions."

Andriet continued to move me around the ballroom, weaving me through the crowds like he'd been born to dance. He held my hand in a firm grip, and his arm against my back was strong. There was no way I would fall.

"Uh-oh. Off to your right. Danger approaches. The old dragon in the wig is Baroness Magenta Deflume. Avoid her, whatever you do. She killed her husband."

"Oh." My eyes flickered to the baroness, intrigued.

"That's not how the story goes. They found him with his face in his dish of smoked duck and peas. Sir Willbrie Stokrest, the baroness's long-term lover, conducted a closed investigation and concluded that there was no sign of poison. I should say Baron Deflume was also on the council, and his widow has been pushing ever since to place Stokrest in his vacant seat, but Father won't have it. His titles are a poor claim, I'm afraid. And his family are power grabbers."

"Is there anyone here you know little about?"

"Good gracious, no. It's in my best interests to gain an intimate knowledge of all who sit on the king's council."

"What about Juel?"

"Are you asking me to divulge the secrets of my brother?" There was a light tease in his voice.

"I meant, does he pay as much attention to everyone on the king's council?"

"He would think such trivial details beneath his notice."

"In my experience, problems arise from those closest to the king. It pays to know them very well."

His eyes lit with his smile. "So you're cunning and bold. Juel won't know how to handle you."

Neither would his brother care to know what I could offer our alliance.

In my periphery, I caught a couple walking our way. I turned to see Juel approach with a dazzling woman on his arm. Dressed like a bride, her white gown, cinched at the waist and spilling like a fountain of stars to the floor, contrasted against her midnight skin. She looked every bit the princess with a garland of tiny white flowers and golden jewels woven through her elaborate plaits, which were pinned into loops and swirls. My eyes couldn't miss the large diamond necklace sparkling against her skin; the jewels Juel gifted her for tonight's ball. Once he turned her aside for another, she would likely sell them in a fit of rage and jealousy, as Arnaud's lovers always did.

"Brother," Andriet announced. "My lady." He gave a curt nod of his head to the stunning woman beside Juel.

I resisted glancing at their clasped hands. He didn't bother to hide from the royal court his infidelities, and it seemed no one expected him to.

"Lady Astaria, this is my bride." Juel drawled the introduction, already sounding bored.

"Your Highness." She dipped into a graceful curtsy, then shifted her gaze to Juel with an innocent, sidelong blink.

For the first time tonight, I glanced at my almost husband. He looked elegant and regal, every part the desirable husband, except for those ice eyes that grew into glass shards as he glared down on me.

"Once again, brother, you seem to have rescued her. You'd better be careful, or the court will tell tales. Can't have them questioning the legitimacy of the infant she'll soon carry."

I blanched at the jab at my heritage but tried my best to keep any further emotion from my face. Juel arched one brow as he continued to stare at me, hoping to catch my reaction, no doubt. Then, slowly, his eyes roamed over my gown.

"Brother, you know—" Andriet began.

"I believe the Earl of Vaelorin wants a word." He wriggled his fingers. "Off you go."

"I've promised?—"

"You've already fulfilled that promise," I said, releasing his arm. I didn't want him to suffer humiliation by his brother's tongue over me. Andriet frowned at me.

"Yes, brother, do as you're told."

Lady Astaria smiled behind her gloved hands.

Andriet looked stricken, but I nodded and somehow found an encouraging smile. "Thank you, Prince Andriet. Now that I've found your brother, I'm in good hands." While Carlin had saved my heart from turning to stone, the Mother had ensured I was far stronger than anyone believed. I didn't flutter my eyelashes or seek praise, and I kept my words to myself, but I wasn't meek.

He looked as though he was ready to refute everything I said, his eyes flicking between his brother and me. For my part, I kept my smile and my head held high, but I wouldn't bother to look at Juel to read his expression.

"Well… if you're happy, Princess." Andriet bowed to kiss the back of my hand.

"Thank you for the dance." I dismissed him by facing Juel.

The further his brother retreated, the broader Juel's smile became.

"She's quite plain, as you can see, Lady Astaria."

Lady Astaria stared at me as she sucked in her cheeks. She made an obvious show of looking at my hair, then wandered her eyes down my pale green gown, allowing her thoughts to play across her face. When her eyes finally climbed to mine, she smirked.

Having completed the formalities etiquette required, she shifted her gaze to Juel. Lady Astaria was a beautiful woman, but the demure smile she gave Juel made her stunning. No wonder Juel was transfixed. I could only imagine his dry mouth on receiving such an adoring gaze from such a magnificent-looking woman. His eyes dipped to the subtle slope of her cleavage, modestly exposed. I thought of clearing my throat, but Juel retrieved his senses before I needed to.

"I was thinking, Lady Astaria, perhaps you could advise my new bride on what to wear. It seems Merania has fallen behind the times in fashion. The trials approach, and you know how the ladies like to parade around in their finest fashion. I would hate for the princess to draw attention to herself for the wrong reasons."

"Of course, Your Highness. Anything you desire, Your Highness." She dropped into a deep curtsy, low enough to place her face level with his groin. Juel's nostrils flared, his eyes shifting like that of a hungry animal.

Thank the Mother he had her and all the many women that likely spent a night in his bed. It meant Juel would stay clear of my bed beyond his required duty. My future already looked promising.

"Your gown is quite stunning, Lady Astaria. You have impeccable taste. I would appreciate your advice on my wardrobe. The prince is right. Merania is far behind in fashion."

Her smile faltered. She glanced at Juel as if requiring his advice on how to react and what to say next. Juel's smile had also slipped.

"If you'll excuse me." I gathered my skirts and curtsied, lacking all the grace Astaria held. Which was the point. Neither did I bother to explain my departure because Juel was not my master.

No one paid me any attention as I hurried from the ballroom out to the balcony. Holding my composure in front of Juel and his mistress pressed against my chest; I felt I couldn't breathe or swallow. Outside, I could finally take a gulp of air.

I clasped the railing and ducked my head, inhaling a deep calming breath. I had trained for years to maintain my outward calm but internalizing it deep within me was never easy. Unlike the Mother, Radnisa, and the other disciples, I'd not mastered the soul voice, and neither had I mastered a stony heart. But I would one day become the perfect disciple.

Confident, powerful strides interrupted my solitude. I leaned against the pillar and stared up at the stars as if dreaming, all the while focusing on the slow steps that sounded reminiscent of a hunting predator. A man, for sure. My hands itched for a dagger, but Radnisa had opposed the idea. Considering my daggers were too large to be hidden discreetly under this gown and retrieving them quickly from beneath all my layers would be impossible, I relented.

Something I was currently regretting. I flexed my fingers. Why should I feel at risk?

"Princess Tressya," came a low voice, dripping in darkness.

I spun to find a tall, striking man approaching, dressed in deep green velvety breeches and matching jacket, a cloak of fur thrown over his shoulders. A thin mustache matched the color of his light brown hair, neatly tied to his nape. Half of his face was lit by the many chandeliers that adored the ballroom; the moonlight shadowed the rest. But it was his amber-colored eyes I found startling.

A weird feeling, like a tiny fluttering of insect wings, danced across my wrist, in the exact spot as the bite mark. I rubbed at it with a frown. "I'm at a disadvantage."

"Lord Bloodwyn." He bowed but kept his eyes on the hand rubbing at my wrist. The way his eyes seemed to sharpen at the movement sent a sudden chill across my chest.

"The princess doesn't like to dance?"

"The princess has danced too much and wants to be by herself."

Something about him made my heart thump hard underneath my ribs. He spoke with the cultured voice of an aristocrat and dressed like one too, but something lurked beyond what I could see. I couldn't explain the feeling. My chest tightened as I assessed his size against mine. If I moved swiftly, I could go for a jab to his throat, a kick to his groin. It was strange I should suddenly plan an attack when he appeared pleasant and harmless, but I never questioned my instincts. If this was my first thought on meeting this lord, I would go with it.

"I apologize for the intrusion, but is this not your ball?"

"It's the Prince's ball."

"Ah, quite. It seems the princess is already weary of her husband."

The funny, fluttery feeling around the bite mark intensified. My brow twitched as I fought the urge to rub it. I didn't want to draw his attention to it again. The feeling became too much to bear, though, and I grabbed my wrist, pressing my fingers to the mark as if that would ease the irritation.

Bloodwyn stepped toward me. "Is the princess all right?"

"The princess is fine." And before I could stop myself, I took a step back. I never stepped away from anyone.

"Hmm… that's an interesting necklace you're wearing."

I covered it with my hand, not wanting him to see it, which, again, was a strange reaction for me to have. At some point, he'd stepped even closer, and I hadn't realized. How had I not realized? My pulse deafened me, so I inhaled, blowing the breath out slowly through my nose to calm my body and my thoughts. Discipline . Why was I acting like this?

"It's a present from home."

Who are you to make me feel like this? I relaxed the barriers in my mind as I focused on Bloodwyn's amber eyes, now staring at mine with a curious smile quivering on his lips. The more I practiced harnessing soul voice, the more I would succeed.

"It's bone, isn't it?"

The way the word bone came out of his mouth, half accusation, half denouncement, I tensed as if ready for a strike.

"Perhaps."

"A gift from someone important, no doubt."

I dropped my hand from it then, not wanting him—or anyone—to know of my attachment. "You're wrong. It just reminds me of home."

Downward, I funneled my mind into the depths of his existence, into the place where a disciple of the Sistern held true power. And there, I fell into a confusing swirl of misty darkness, a deafening chorus of cries, a stranglehold of chaos that seized me in a grip so fierce it felt like my ribs would break.

This couldn't be real. It made no sense. It was as though there were many souls within this man. Or at least more than one… The northerner?

"That's rather rude," Lord Bloodwyn drawled before he swiped an arm toward me.

But I was ready and dodged low, then cracked my forehead up into his mouth. Hearing the clash of his teeth, I spared no time and kneed him hard in the groin. He doubled back with a suck of air, and I followed, ready to cut him hard through the throat with the side of my hand, but he seized it and spun me around with a yank that shot pain to my shoulder. My stomach slammed against the pillar, and his scent—earthy, woody, leather, and smoke—enveloped me as he pressed against me.

"Now, that's not the way to greet the man who holds your life in his hands," he growled in my ear.

It had been dark in the hold of the ship when we fought, so I never saw the beast-man's face. I remembered the size of him pinning me to the floor as he threatened to take my life. This man was of similar size. Was it him?

"You're lucky they made me wear this ridiculous dress, or I would've fulfilled the promise I made on the ship."

He huffed a laugh. "Like a feral cat, hissing and scratching even when caught. But I'm curious. What alerted you?"

"As if I'd tell."

"I believe it was the bite."

"The poison," I corrected him.

"Perhaps," he mused, sounding disinterested. Of course, he would be. What did it matter to him if I died? As long as he got to play his cruel game for as long as it pleased him.

"Tell me why you did it?"

"Sorry, princess, but I'm not about to tell unless you wish to be more obliging and answer my questions."

I bucked against him. "If you'll get off of me."

"Are you bargaining already? You have a habit of that when you're most disadvantaged."

I inhaled, needing my calming breaths more than ever, but all I got was the leathery spice and woodlands of his smell. A northerner was in the south, dressed as a nobleman and mingling among the king's court. How did he get this close to the king?

"We both have questions," I said, filling my voice with anger.

I felt the pressure of his body lighten on mine, but he didn't step away or drop his hands from the pillar. Instead, he allowed me room to wriggle while keeping me caged. It was a threat, an intimidation. I kept my back to him rather than try to turn in the tight circle of his arms.

"What did you see when you looked inside of me?"

I couldn't stop my sudden gasp. Neither did I realize I'd spun around until I felt his breath on my face. He was suffocatingly close, too close. The amber in his eyes faded out to a striated black around the edges. They were…mesmerizing. I blinked once I realized I'd been staring too long and saying nothing. Then he smirked. Its power was better than a slap to my face to steel my focus. This asshole thought me a blushing princess.

"Come now. There's no need to be coy, my princess."

I snapped up my knee for another groin kick, but he caught my leg under my thigh and held it in place.

"Uh-uh. That's not good for political relations with the north."

"Let go," I snapped and attempted to pull my leg from his hold.

He released me and stepped back, giving me the room to suck in fresh air and not… him.

He was fast and cunning. I needed to be smart.

"You really are quite the surprise. Not what the prince expected, I'm sure."

I crossed my arms in front of me. Then I dropped them again on realizing I did it out of defense. I felt like I needed a barrier between us. He stood too close, his presence suddenly everywhere, overwhelming me, overpowering me.

I snapped. "Are you here for me or him?"

"There are rules to our conversation. You answer my questions, and I'll... We'll see how we go. What did you see when you delved inside of me?"

I stared at him, the shock once again stealing my ability to speak.

"Come, princess. You didn't honestly believe the Sistern's talents were a secret to all?"

The Sistern spread their reach wide, but into the inhospitable realm of the north?

"I'm sure it was quite a surprise. But I'm genuinely interested. I've often wondered what my soul would feel like." I followed his hand as it slipped into his pocket. "Not necessarily my soul, of course, rather…"

Rather, what? What other surprises did he hide? "First, the attack on the ship, and now you turn up here. What's your purpose?"

"You don't want to know my purpose, princess. Or can I call you Tressya?"

"Princess will do." I glared at him as he leaned on the railing, seeming immune to the tension thinning the air surrounding us. I hated that I noticed the way he did the simplest movements with powerful grace.

"Is it disruption you want to cause? You want to incite a rebellion, befriend the nobles of the south to rise against their king?"

He huffed as he nodded his head. "That would be interesting, but far too easy and rather boring."

"You didn't kill me on the ship, so you won't kill me now. But what about Juel?"

He tilted his head, his amber eyes considering me. They were so unsettling. "Would that upset you if I did?"

"I would thank you. Then I would put a dagger through your heart."

"And what of the younger brother? Would you thank me if I did away with him?"

I stiffened. He'd been watching me. "You really think you're that good?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps." Spoken with a nonchalant voice, and I wanted to punch that smile off his face—if he wasn't so intriguing. He exuded a confidence I found compelling, coupled with an arrogance I found grating.

A creeping sickness filled my gut at how careless he'd been in revealing himself to me, because it may not be a careless move at all. "You've made one mistake."

"I have? Please tell."

"I know your face now."

A vile smile crossed his lips. "Do you now?"

The sickness drove a lump into my throat. Knowing nothing about him or his people, I was disadvantaged, but I sensed there was something more to him than a link to a half-beast people.

"Why are you here?" I demanded. "If it's for me?—"

"Sweetheart, you're the least of my concerns."

I was getting nowhere in this conversation. "How long do I have before the poison kills me?"

He shook his head with a wry smile. "I wouldn't let that worry you. Not just yet anyhow."

I still had time then. Time enough to learn everything about him and his people. I didn't need him to reveal his plans because I could already guess. The end of the House of Tannard. There was no other reason why a northerner would sneak south. Assassinating Henricus would make Tarragona vulnerable to an attack. If it were true, it made him my enemy.

"Answering questions with questions gets very tedious. I hope that's not how all our interactions will play out."

The arrogant ass wanted to taunt me. Unfortunately for him my years with Radnisa made that a hard task for anyone to achieve. "I'm not the only disciple to have arrived in Tarragona, you know. So I'll tell you this, beast-man. You can't stay hidden. Not now that you've revealed yourself."

He rubbed his chin, appearing thoughtful. "You mean the rather severe-looking woman who shadows your every move. She certainly has the scary look down. Besides her, I believe you are alone. Your—what do you call her, Mother Divine?—must really have faith in your talent to send just the two of you across."

He'd closed the distance between us, and my refusal to step back meant we were too close for my comfort. His height forced me to arch my head back to meet his eyes.

To my horror, he leaned down, bringing his face far too close, ensuring I had the misfortune to see deep into his striking amber eyes. For some inexplicable reason a spark fired deep inside my stomach. A worthy adversary. That's what caused this sudden stabbing beat of my heart. It was the only explanation.

"Threats, little princess, won't work. It makes no difference to me how skilled either of you is in your talent. Your skills are useless against the Razohan." He dragged his finger along my chin. "We have no soul to command."

Before I could respond, he disappeared over the balcony and into the night. My anger boiled in my throat as I peered over. He'd disarmed my defenses and muddled my thoughts, and now he was long gone. "Curses," I spun away, fists clenched.

He could only be here to disrupt or destroy the House of Tannard. How many more of his kind came with him? The wizards were lax to let this happen.

I turned back and stared over the railing into the darkness. My duty was to bear an heir, but I couldn't fulfill my duty if there was no House of Tannard. The Mother would want me to protect the Tannard sons.

At least now I knew my enemy's face.