Chapter 23

Chapter

Twenty-Three

TRESSYA

The news came as a relief. The Duke, the Earl, and a select few of the peerage had lost their heads after weeks of trials in which each swore their innocence. It was Lord Dowel who'd broken down under torture and surrendered the names of all the conspirators in exchange for his life—which wasn't granted. The king would know I hadn't lied. And now he owed me a favor.

I stopped outside the king's favored rooms to steady my nerves, not caring the sentinels stared at me.

Here I was, fighting to stay within Emberfell, yet protecting the identity of the one man who could destroy the Mother's plans all because…he wanted to know me.

In the last few weeks, I'd seen Bloodwyn from afar, though I thought of him more times than I should. Able to disguise himself as anyone he chose, he was a far greater threat to the House of Tannard than any treason, but I couldn't bring myself to reveal him as a Razohan.

As a disciple, my duty was to obey, not feel. Emotions weakened a disciple, made us question, made us falter. The Mother had no use for such women. Bloodwyn was wrong; while I may not have chosen to join the Sistern, I gave my life to them, to the Mother.

Yet I had not tried to avenge Anderline's death, as I swore I would, when I had my blade at his throat in the graveyard? A quick flick of my wrist, some added pressure, and I would've sliced him from ear to ear as a loyal disciple should. Instead, I let him talk, I listened, I replied. I even revealed to him a very special secret: that I had found my soul word. The first person I'd shared my triumph with was my enemy.

I bunched my fists against my temples. Curse you Bloodwyn. He made me question myself; he made me falter. He made me feel . And it felt too good to deny. Because of him, my loyalty was divided.

I let my hands drop to my sides. I mustn't allow that to happen.

Juel was dead. I needed to marry Andriet to fulfilled my duty. His bride had to die.

I huffed out a breath. Convince the king to allow me to stay, then kill the bride and take her place .

Most of all, don't trust the Razohan just because he'd shown a smidgeon of interest in me as a person and a small dash of compassion, which was likely false. He traded faces as easily as I dressed. Maybe his emotions were as easily gained and lost.

He'd shared some of his fractured heart.

I slammed my palms to my thighs and groaned my humiliation, causing the sentinels to frown. Everything he said could've been a lie to lull my wounded heart. He could be playing me as deftly as I'd seen many courtiers in my father's court do repeatedly for their own amusement. From what I'd gleaned, the Razohan were masters of falsity. He was likely no different.

Except he hadn't ended the House of Tannard. He could do it anytime he wanted. Myself and the wizards would be powerless to stop him. The Salmun, for all I could see, didn't even know he walked amongst them.

I fisted my hair, then spun from the sentinels as I covered my mouth with my hands. Stop it, you stupid fool. He was playing with me, and now laughing at me, like so many had done before. I'd grown up accustomed to my plainness, feeling no jealousy toward Edilene for her beauty or any of the other exquisite women in father's court. In his court, a woman's worth was based on her beauty. All they ever won was an arrogant ass of a husband, and through her beauty he gained himself a favored place in society while remaining blind to her unique qualities. Besides, I'd expected no pleasure or love in my life. Until Carlin. He was the only man who seemed capable of overlooking my plainness to love the woman underneath.

But he'd never really known me . Carlin saw the wounded princess struggling to breathe amongst a court of vipers and not the killer underneath; not the woman sharpened by the Sistern to be the Mother's weapon. He thought he knew my heart, but the woman Carlin loved would not hold her hand over a dying man's mouth to silence his screams.

Unlike the Razohan. He knew me for what I was because I was as duplicitous as he. But what crazy, foolish mind I had grown to think for one moment, this Razohan would actually be interested in me? Was I that pitiable, that desperate to feel love again that I would dally with my enemy? That I would feel flattered? That I would feel a sudden thumping of my heart and a tiny flutter in my stomach because he wanted to know me?

"The princess is acting strange," Lord Truett said, flashing in front of me.

I jerked at his sudden arrival, conscious of the sentinels behind me.

"She is clearly quite mad with grief," Borrat said.

"It is an interesting turn of events. Did we not warn the princess not to meddle in the affairs of men? And now it would seem a handful of the king's council are dead. Heads off, the lot of them," Albert said.

"Go away," I hissed under my breath.

"What next does she plan to do? Strip the king of the rest of his council by claiming treason once again?" Albert continued as if I hadn't spoken.

It was time I made a serious effort to perfect my ability as a spiritweaver.

I glanced over my shoulder at the sentinels, seeing they were staring ahead and not at me. Then I focused on the spirits in front of me. Go . I mouthed the word, even dared give a small flick of my hands.

"I do not think we are welcome here, gentlemen," Truett said.

"But I very much want to see what the king has to say," Borrat said.

"The Salmun have intervened. The princess is to stay. What more is there to know? I for one have more important lives to drop in on." Albert turned and disappeared down the corridor.

I jerked my head at Albert's retreating form, then swept a hand through my bun to smooth my hair, spared one calming breath, then turned to face the doors. The sentinel's lips were twitching. I could imagine the stories they would share in the servants' quarters, but I doubted anyone mentioned me favorably, so I cared little.

This was an important moment for me. The king had to give me what I wanted now I'd proven my worth. But I had more to prove. I just hoped he wouldn't take my head, deciding I was more a danger than a useful aid. And while the Salmun's support of me was crucial for the king's ear, I'd been foolish in exposing my ability to Orphus. Uncomfortable tingles ran along my spine as I wondered what interest he now had in me.

The ever-present sentinels opened the doors onto a lush atrium, its ceiling soaring overhead and fashioned like shards of glass. Plants of varying sizes and color were tamed into beds either side of stone paths, and in the center, sat at a small iron table, was the king eating his breakfast.

He glanced at me as the doors closed behind. "Come, sit." He nodded to a servant partially obscured by the drooping branch of a large broad-leafed plant. The servant rushed forward at the king's silent command.

"Tea," Henricus ordered.

"Yes, Sire." The servant scampered away behind the dense greenery as the king motioned with a wave of his hand for me to sit next to him.

Henricus treated me like a friend, which felt weird and a little creepy. Even so, I slid into the seat that was already set, grateful he was not kicking me out. It was a good start to our conversation.

He didn't look at me, continuing to scoop out the runny yoke from his egg and slurping it into his mouth. Neither did he speak to me, so rather than watch him eat, I looked out of the glass wall across from me. The green of the lush plants inside the atrium grew stark against the dull day. From here, I could see the tops of the distant buildings and the spire of the Salmun's temple, the end spearing into the heavy clouds.

The servant returned and poured me a cup without asking if I wanted any. Once done, he slunk away between the foliage again. To my left, another place was set, and I wondered if the king was expecting his wife to join him.

"Eat," the king said around his mouthful.

The first day of my arrival, I'd been forced to endure an evening meal with the Tannard family. Since then, it was rare that the royal family ate as one. Juel had vanished most nights, likely to eat with one mistress or another. The queen was never well enough to join us, and the king, Andriet told me, liked to eat alone, or he endured an evening meal with his council men, leaving Andriet and I together, unless he snuck off to steal a night with Daelon, and I would disappear to my room with my meal.

I selected a large boiled egg and a thick piece of dark brown bread from the array of breakfast dishes in front of me. I had worked myself up over this conversation, so I had no appetite. The smells of the buttery pastries did nothing to improve it. Instead, they made me feel queasy.

"I've invited you here as a thank you."

"There's no need, Your Majesty."

He nodded as if he thought the same. "I give my thanks rarely, so it's advisable to accept it."

"Of course, Sire. I'm honored, but I was only doing my duty. My loyalty lies with the House of Tannard."

He stopped chewing and, for the first time, looked at me. He swiped up his napkin, wiped his hands on it, then he settled back in his seat as he threw the napkin onto his plate. He was done eating, and I'd yet to have a mouthful. I lowered my fork and sat back.

"Don't stop. You haven't even started."

Etiquette deemed I should stop when the king stopped, and I wanted to because my stomach still felt tight, but I did as he said and picked up my fork.

"You look little like your sister."

I swallowed, preparing myself for what was to come.

"Her portrait was very favorable. Juel was most pleased." He picked at his teeth. "But I more so with you."

I nearly choked on my bread and pretend a dainty cough to ease it down. There were many words I could say right now, praising the king, thanking the king, playing coy. Instead, I waited for him to speak.

"Beauty is a flaw. It disguises many truths and makes fools out of men." He sighed. "It's age that has taught me that."

He took a sip of his tea. "You're quiet. None of this constant banter and frivolous chatter ringing in my ears. I find the quiet far more tolerable. Everything is more peaceful now the queen is keeping to her bed."

I took another mouthful of my bread dipped in egg, wondering where the king was going with this.

"Lady Astaria is most distraught. She won't be seen in court for some time. I believe she's fled to her father's estate to recover, which she'll do soon enough. Then she'll set her sights on the next young man of esteemed birth. No doubt, she'll be waiting to see the outcome of the trials, as will all the unmarried ladies of noble birth."

When the king granted the winners—those that survived—a favorable position at his court. This was why the young noblemen were willing to risk their lives. Recognition from the king, honors and titles and the pick of eligible women. Lady Astaria would be at the front of the queue.

I continued eating, knowing he wasn't interested in anything I could add to the conversation, neither would he be interested in hearing my view on the trials.

He threw down his napkin. "You may speak. I praised your silence, but too much of it makes you dull."

"Sire. I'm sorry for your loss." It was the first thing to come into my head.

He raised an eyebrow at me as he leaned back in his seat. "But you're not sorry to see him dead."

I pressed my lips firm but refused to drop my gaze from his.

"Don't think I was blind to my son's flaws. All young men have more vice than sense. He would've grown, matured, learned he wouldn't find greatness beneath a lady's skirts. Under the guidance of the Creed of Salmun, he would've become an excellent king. In time, his vices would've lost their grip, and he would have settled beside you."

I could only nod, not wanting to offend the king in contradicting him.

"Age is meant to humble us."

For a few, perhaps. The older men in father's court still found their ways to bicker, scheme, gamble, flirt, and make fools of themselves.

"You're an intelligent woman. I see it in your eyes. Your silence is a very handy trait to possess. In my experience those that say little, listen a lot. That's how you learned of the plot to dispose of me."

He leaned his elbows on the armrests of his chair, staring at me over his steepled fingers. "Tell me, how did you discover the plot?"

I took a breath before responding, wondering if this might be the right moment to ask the king for my favor. "The night of the ball, I stepped onto the balcony for some air. There was light coming from your library window, and when I moved closer, I overheard Lord Dowel among others discussing their plans inside."

He stared at me as he tapped his fingers against his lips. "I hated you."

Great. Definitely not the right moment.

"When I saw you there beside my dead son, I wanted to strike you down. They told me it wasn't your fault, that there was no hope with such a wound, but I wanted to blame you all the same."

I inhaled, feeling the fierce tug of his gaze, seeing the clench of his fists.

"You'll understand one day. When you have children of your own. One dead son and one I will have to order into his new bride's bed," he grumbled as he sat forward to grab his teacup.

Knowing he knew about Andriet and Daelon's love softened my view of him a little more.

"It was Orphus who spoke on your behalf. Something he's never done before."

"Sire." I could say little else, but the idea that Orphus showed any interest in me churned an uneasiness in my gut.

"It's curious. As are you." He set his cup down. "My plans for the marriage celebrations will continue. Only now the focus will be on Andriet and his new bride. She'll arrive on our shores any day."

"Sire, perhaps it's not wise to continue with the trials."

Someone hoping to topple the House of Tannard would find their perfect chance during the trials.

He harrumphed. "This is a tradition that dates back to the great war." He shook his head. "Impossible."

"You have taken care of one treasonous plot, but I think it's dangerous to assume that was the only?—"

There was a rustle from the thick foliage and another servant appeared, hurrying to the king's side to whisper in his ear.

"Ah, excellent." He glanced at me as the servant moved away. "We have company."

I looked at the extra plate. Perhaps the queen had arrived, though I wasn't sure he would act so pleased about that news.

At the sound of the doors swinging wide, I glanced over my shoulder to see Bloodwyn stride inside. I snapped my head around and stared at my bread and egg, gripping the sides of the table with my fingers. Curses that I should feel this way. My little self-talk did nothing to stop the sudden flush of flutters churning my stomach.

My body vibrated to the tune of his boots smacking on the stone floor as he pounded toward us. My heart climbed my throat and a fever burned low in my…

This wasn't me.

"Your Majesty." He halted behind me. "So kind of you to agree to see me, and in your private rooms."

I felt the softest presence at my left shoulder, the smallest hint of warmth, and I could almost feel his fingers brush at my shoulder. Tingles flared around my bite mark. I wouldn't look behind, no matter how painful the urge.

The king waved his hand to the third table setting. Not the queen, then.

"Obliged."

My eyes flittered closed on hearing his voice, full of arrogance. There could be no better time than now to reveal him…if I felt sure anyone would believe me. Which they wouldn't. I would have to reveal my talent in order to prove the truth, and the Razohan would never trip up and make an accidental mistake, given he carried Bloodwyn's soul. He would know exactly how to act and what to say to keep his identity a secret.

"Princess Tressya," he uttered in shock as he slid with agile grace into his seat. "What a great surprise."

I gave him a vexed look while my right hand twitched to rub against his bite mark. "Lord Bloodwyn."

I would imagine the real Razohan looked like a hunchbacked ogre and not someone with compelling amber eyes that never failed to ensnare me; not someone who made my heart beat painfully against my ribs.

"I wish to extend my utmost sympathies. The last time we met?—"

"Thank you." I knew he spoke of the hunt and Juel's death, but my mind went to the actual last time. I wouldn't allow myself to think of that.

Surely Bloodwyn's soul infected the Razohan enough to give him decorum. A beast-man of the north, he'd be ripping meat from a carcass with his teeth otherwise. No way would a Razohan know how to give a woman pleasure.

I don't care. I don't care. I didn't care if he knew a woman's head from her toes. It meant nothing to me.

Looking far too pleased with himself, Bloodwyn leaned forward and grabbed himself a thick hunk of bread, then slathered it with an even thicker layer of butter.

"The princess eagerly awaits the trials," the king announced.

I sipped my tea, keeping my eyes on the table. I had yet to offer my proposition and this sounded as though the king had decided to let me stay in Tarragona.

"Does she now. I hope we can put on a good show for her."

"You're entering, Bloodwyn?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. Given I'm unlikely to get the chance again, I wouldn't dream of missing out."

I darted him a hard look, knowing the real reason he chose to join the trials. If they were as dangerous as Andriet claimed, then what better way to dispose of Andriet without raising suspicions. Though the Razohan would have a hard time, as I doubted the Creed of Salmun would let Andriet out of their sight.

"Huh. There, see, princess. Everyone loves the trials."

"It would seem, Sire."

"I hope the princess will be there to cheer me on?"

Our eyes locked. My gaze was combative, but Bloodwyn merely smiled and raised his tea to his lips, and curses that I watched his lips touch the side of his cup. The cup disappeared and those lips were suddenly on my skin.

I blinked, snapping my eyes to my plate. Seeing my half-eaten slice of bread and egg, I attacked the bread, sawing a large slice, then thought the better and cut it smaller before popping it into my mouth.

"Whether I'm to remain in Tarragona for the trials is up to the king to decide," I said once I swallowed my mouthful.

Damn that Bloodwyn was here, for I couldn't speak freely in front of him.

"Yes, I see," Bloodwyn murmured. "My reason for requesting an audience with Your Majesty is of grave importance." He glanced at me. "It's fitting the princess is here. I know she wouldn't wish me to mention her name in any of this, but I feel I must."

My heart climbed my throat. I turned the full force of my hatred toward him. If he dared reveal who I really was, I would do the same, regardless of how many believed me. I would make them believe me; I would find a way.

"I fear, Your Majesty…" Bloodwyn continued.

Curses that I was so pathetic to think he was genuine in anything he said to me when he used the ultimate subterfuge. That smidgeon of compassion he'd shown to me was false. I took another sip of my tea, only to feel the slight tremor in my hand.

"The treachery the princess revealed to you is only the beginning."

I hated him. From the depths of my heart, I hated him.

"What is this?" the king growled. "Tell me."

"There are others, Sire. Within the king's council."

What?

"What?" the king breathed.

"And, Sire…" Bloodwyn glanced at me.

I could feel the cold on my cheeks.

"It is once again the princess you have to thank for this knowledge."

What? I choked on my sip of tea. Whatever his plan, I loathed being part of it.

"Indeed. Tell me more," the king demanded.

Bloodwyn leaned over and offered me his napkin, even though mine was in easy reach. I ignored his and used mine, which was petty, but I wasn't about to take anything he offered, even something as insignificant as a table napkin.

"The princess came to me asking questions about Tarragona's trade relations with the north. She'd heard a discussion between Weselton and Leto regarding their strategy for moving merchandise through the Ashenlands. The princess was unaware of any relations with the north or provision for moving trade between borders."

Damn, he was good.

"I therefore took it upon myself to investigate before I brought any claims before you. I called on Lord Weselton and when told to wait for his return, I rifled through his private papers, and found this."

He pulled some parchment from his jacket pocket. A servant rushed forward from behind a large broadleaf and took the parchment from Bloodwyn and gave it to the king.

I studied the king's face as he read the letter. His face paled as his lips pinched tight. Within moments, he scrunched the letter in his fist. "Do you have more proof?"

"For now, no. Sire. But I am sure there's plenty to be found in Lord Weselton's manor in the north. He likely keeps all his secret correspondence there, believing it would be safe."

Planted by Bloodwyn, perhaps, or did he have others here with him, within the king's court or his guard? The Razohan would aim for anyone close to the king. He was too good, too thorough, too cunning. Not only that, the Razohan was an adept liar, better than any I'd heard before; perfected by Bloodwyn's soul. How could I hope to protect Andriet and the House of Tannard? How could I win against people who could become anyone?

"It's my belief they hope to do more than benefit from opening a new trade route. I would say they hope to gain new allies."

The king threw down the letter and launched to his feet with such violence, his chair fell backward. The lush indoor garden absorbed the loud smack as his chair hit the floor. A servant appeared and scampered forward to right it.

"Is there no end to this treachery?" he snarled.

"Sire, I ask your permission to investigate. I'll make it my sole focus to discover any validity to the claims and see how deep the treachery runs. If there are culprits, then I shall bring them before you on their knees."

With the king's back toward us, I glared at Bloodwyn, only to receive a seductive smile and a wink. Ignoring the tingles that sparked in my belly, I intensified my glare, narrowing my eyes as if I could fashion them into spears.

What better way to undermine the king than strip his support? At this rate, Bloodwyn would have the king execute all of his noblemen.

Bloodwyn had told me he had to win. The deviousness of his plan made me fear he would. How could I outsmart him? Without enough time to think, killing him seemed my only solution. As a disciple, I shouldn't balk at the idea. I gritted my teeth, hating the uncomfortable weight lodging in my chest at the thought of slicing his throat.

I slipped my hand through the discreet slit in my skirts and into my pocket bag, feeling the dagger inside. The cold steel of its hilt cooled my palm. I tried not to show the relief in my expression.

The king spun around. "Andriet's bride arrives any day, and I won't allow anything to interfere with my plans. The trials and the marriage will go ahead."

"May I suggest a plan, Sire?"

When the king slumped down in his seat once more, Bloodwyn leaned forward and rested his palms on the table. My body tensed as I watched him. Even that insignificant gesture reminded me of a predator, like those big hunting cats that lived in Merania's forests.

The king waved a finger, indicating Bloodwyn should continue.

"Let me send some of my men to search Lord Weselton's manor while he is in Tolum. Then we shall know for sure if and who the true traitors are. If it turns out, Sire, the rumors are true, then what better way to see their end during the trials. They need never finish the trials. If you know what I mean."

"They need to be made an example of."

"Your Majesty, if anyone knew there was a way to trade through the Ashenlands… Surely you would want that kept a secret."

"There isn't a way. There could be no way. The Levenians saw to that. The Ashenlands have existed for one thousand years and the north has never won their way through. If any of my councilmen have found a way, then it's with the help of the Salmun, and I cannot believe that."

"It's merely a suggestion, Sire."

The king blew out a hard breath and sunk back into his seat. "Your plan has merit. Let me think on it."

"Of course, we mustn't forget the role Princess Tressya played in uncovering yet another treasonous plot."

The two men focused on me. Curse you, Bloodwyn . I couldn't begin to imagine what he hope to gain by calling me out like this? I concentrated on the king, ignoring the urge to glare at Bloodwyn when I felt his eyes like the hot burning sun baring down on me. It was then I realized I would have to surrender some of my pretense if I hoped to gain some ground here.

"I am indebted to you again, Princess."

"Speak nothing of it, Your Majesty." I gripped the hilt of my dagger firm in my palm.

"Yes, it would seem the princess is conveniently placed once again. One would question what magical listening skills she possesses."

I kept my eyes on the king. No way would I let him see me squirm. And showing my fury would let him believe this was his win.

"Yes, she's quite an asset to the House of Tannard."

"It's a shame she no longer has a permanent place within your household…Forgive me, Sire, if that was insensitive…"

The King flicked his wrist to quieten Bloodwyn's concern. I released my hold on my dagger and stood, drawing both men's attention.

"Your Majesty, I thank you for your high praise." I tapped the tips of my fingers on the table and shifted my gaze to Bloodwyn. He drew his eyes from my fingers, dancing their little tune, and arched an eyebrow at me.

"Lord Bloodwyn is far too generous in what he says. I fear he may be not as sincere in his praise."

"The Princess questions my sincerity?" He locked his amber eyes on me. "I shall excuse her for that. She's new to Tolum and doesn't know me well."

"Perhaps the Princess knows you more than you know yourself," I said.

He smirked. "Impossible. I'm a complicated maze, Princess. Far too much dwells within me. You need only look inside of me to know that was true. If that was at all possible."

I gave a soft laugh as I strolled toward his chair. "Your Majesty, when we last met, I asked you to grant me a favor should the treasonous plot be true."

"I recall. And now you wish to ask for that favor?"

I strolled behind Bloodwyn's seat. This close I could smell warm leather mixed with a deep and heavy spice, rich in syrupy thickness. Once behind him, his seat obscuring my right hand, I delved through the slit at my side for my pocket bags and gently pulled my dagger from its sheath.

"I must warn you, Sire, making bargains with the princess?—"

I whipped my dagger up and placed it hard against Bloodwyn's throat.

The king jerked to his feet, his chair again slamming to the floor. Once standing, he staggered away. The leaves rustled as the servants rushed for the exit, to alert the sentinels, no doubt.

"You have nothing to fear from me, Your Majesty."

"I would question that claim—" I pressed the blade harder to Bloodwyn's throat, not so it broke skin, but enough for him to know I was serious.

The doors burst open, and the sentinels rushed in.

"Wait," shouted the king, holding his hand up to the rushing guards.

"I meant every word when I told you I was loyal to the House of Tannard. But you must know something about me. While my sister perfected her needlework and singing, I learned a far more useful skill. A little deadly, you may say, but my father found me very useful."

The Razohan wasn't the only one who could spin a tale. I wasn't sure how much the King of Tarragona knew about the Sistern, but I wasn't taking any chances. I was sure I would lose my head were he to know.

"My sword skills equal any fighter, and I'm swift with a dagger. I can be a far greater asset to you as your blade than I ever would've been as a wife to your son."

"You're forgetting I have the Creed of Salmun."

"Who was it to discover the treasonous plots?" I might as well make use of the praise Bloodwyn won for me, even if the second treasonous plot was bound to be false. "Everyone within your court knows to keep secrets from the Salmun. No one will suspect a woman such as me."

"Sire, may I speak?" Bloodwyn croaked.

This time, I curled my fingers through his hair and gripped hard, pulling his head back so he looked up at me.

Keeping the pressure of my blade to his throat, I said, "The Lord is too fond of his voice."

"The Lord is even fonder of his neck," Bloodwyn replied, then coughed as if choking.

I quirked a brow.

"Let him go," the king commanded.

So I did, then strolled around the side of his chair, working my hand through the slit in my skirt to sheath my dagger. Bloodwyn kept his gaze fixed on my actions with a quizzical raise of his brow.

I sat back down, my back rigid with tension. After one calming breath, I turned to the king.

"Go," he barked to his sentinels, then eased himself into his chair. He steepled his fingers and eyed me while the sentinels retreated and closed the door with a clunk.

"Is this what has drawn Orphus's attention?"

"I wouldn't know what has interested Orphus, Sire. But you're the only man to know of my secret."

"Not so," Bloodwyn added.

"That can be remedied," I mumbled, keeping my gaze on the king.

"You have given me much to think about. It's quite extraordinary." Then his gaze narrowed. "How do I know your father did not send you to end Juel's life?"

"If it were true, he would've died long before he fell from his horse. My father would gain nothing from killing the Crown Prince. This alliance is very important to Merania. If anything, he wanted me to protect Juel."

"Which didn't go down so well," Bloodwyn said.

The king stayed quiet. His stare felt like thick nails hammered to the ground to keep me in place.

"We must remember after all the treasonous plots, the king?—"

"Can think for himself." I interrupted Bloodwyn, keeping my voice and face deadpan.

"I was merely?—"

"Interfering in something that doesn't concern you."

I turned from him as if dismissing him, yet was keenly aware of his eyes burrowing into my head. I loathed how much he stole my attention, even when I wasn't looking at him.

"Sire," I began, but he held up his hand to silence me. Curses to Bloodwyn for interfering.

Finally, he sat forward. "You have proved yourself loyal to the House of Tannard twice now." His gaze was slicing, but so far it sounded promising. "I'll grant you your wish. You shall become my eyes, my ears, my blade. But I warn you, princess, I'll be watching you."

"As will I," Bloodwyn murmured.

"Don't give me or the Salmun a reason to mistrust you," the king finished.