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Father sipped his wine but said nothing.

After another fruitless round of struggle beneath my hold, Rhistel let out a furious hiss and loosened.

“Fine. I won’t approach your wife or speak with her.”

“You will not use your powers on her.”

“I won’t.”

“Nor spread tales.”

He snorted. “Are they tales, though? I find them to be quite the truth.”

One of my hands strayed to his neck, wrapped around it, and pressed hard against his tender throat. Beneath my grip, his pulse flared, pounding wildly. “She’s no whore. I wanted her, and now she is mine. A princess of the realm that bears the name Aaberg. Your name. My name.The royal name.”

“And as much as I hate that Vale gave the commoner our name,” our father piped up, “that demands respect, Rhistel. If you cannot respect your new sister-in-law, then who will? And with that outward disrespect, our family name tarnishes.” His lips curled. If there was one thing Father could not abide, it was his name being run through the muck.

Rhistel narrowed his eyes. “My magic will stay bound.”

“Release him, Vale,” Father commanded. “He gave his word.”

But I didn’t let go. Even with his word, could I trust him? Rhistel was clever and slippery, and his particular magic rendered him far more like Neve than he knew.

“Vale,” Father’s tone dipped. “I’ve entertained thisabsurditylong enough. Release Rhistel.”

My arms fell to my sides, and, not trusting me, Rhistel took three paces to the side, his hand lifting to rub at his neck as he did so.

Father twisted toward him. “Leave us.”

“Father, we were speaking before this brute”—Rhistel gestured to me—“interrupted.”

Father’s eyes closed, a sign of his thinning patience. “I’ve already told you my thoughts on matters regarding the Festival. If you have more to say, Rhistel, find me tomorrow. For now, go lick your wounds.” He gave my brother a look of disgust.

Though Rhistel was the heir, and a clever, cunning fae, Father hated that my twin didn’t possess physical strength.

“I need to speak with Vale.” Father turned his attention to me.

Rhistel’s cheeks grew red, and he looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he spun on his heel and left the library, the door slamming behind him.

Once we were alone, Father shook his head. “Your brother will always remember that.”

“It’s not so different from our other fights,” I said. We’d had many over the turns. Many in which Rhistel had obliterated me with his words, and I’d returned in kind with a well-placed punch to the gut.

“Don’t fool yourself.” Father swept to the table upon which bottles of wine from the Summer Isles, Dragon Fire, and specialty liqueurs from the Mage Court sat. “You’ve chosen that commonborn female over your blood. Your twin.”

“We haven’t been close for a long time, Father. And a female tore us apart before.”

“This is different.” The king poured a small glass of Dragon Fire and downed it. “The female has stirred up moretrouble than she’s worth, Vale. If you hadn’t given her our name, I would have killed her already.”

I swallowed at the way he said it. So matter-of-factly. As if she were a boar we were hunting and not a fae of our kingdom. A subject that we had sworn to protect. Then again, Father didn’t always take that promise to heart.

Thank the stars for Lord Riis. He’d been the one to see that my name, more so than my strength, would save Neve. The king might have killed many during his rebellion, but no one of his direct bloodline met his axe. He was no kinslayer. And in his eyes, marriage was as binding as blood. More so even. After all, his own blood had failed him when he was a youngling, but the ties of his mother’s marriage to the male who had raised him, those had stayed true.

“You love her?” Father asked as he poured himself a glass of wine.

My mouth fell open.

His eyebrows arched, and he went to a seat in front of the ever-burning hearth. “Foolish as that may be, and as much as I hoped you only lusted and loved what was between her legs, I cannot help but think you do. Irritating myself and the Warden of the West would be an added bonus, I suppose.”