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“I don’t know, Lachlan,” Keyanna said, her eyes narrowed. “Your kingdom went to war with mine over a marriage.”

Lachlan felt like he’d lost any high ground and was slipping down a very steep incline. It was true. While it was initially justified for the kidnapping of a Jast Princess, the ruination of Kaloma had been for spite. “You’re suggesting I marry a commoner from Kaloma?”

Keyanna slipped deeper into the covers, looking smug. “Think of it. People will celebrate that kind of marriage because a commoner is someone who represents them.” She paused and tapped her chin. “Yes. A commoner singled out by the crown prince of Jast. Her circumstances improved by Jast. A reparation after the war… it’s perfect.”

“I’m not sure all of them would agree.” He took a deep breath and turned away, resigned. Everything she said made sense for Kaloma, and while a commoner queen wasn’t exactly in line with expectations, the rest of the agreement aligned with Jast’s goals. His own father had been willing to marry him to a neighboring kingdom for the sake of trade. “Kaloma might be amenable to the terms. The question is how Jast would perceive the alliance, as well as how Truisante would view it in light of the slight against them.”

“Which, Lachlan, isn’t my problem.”

He knew that was true. He’d made that mess on his own.

“When Jast merchants and nobles are filling their coffers because of an easier trade route, they won’t care who you marry,” she pointed out. “Besides, you’re the playboy prince. They probably expect you to do something impetuous and rash.”

“Your spies are so thorough,” he muttered, wanting to snap at her assessment but thinking of his father’s criticism. She wasn’t wrong. As much as the idea of marrying for an alliance wasn’t his first choice, he had to think of the kingdom. Opening the route to the Dauntiss along with influence in Kaloma’s government at the highest level would be a win-win for Jast.

“Do you have someone in mind? Or do we have to go through some process to find the right candidate? A ball or some such nonsense?”

“No ball. That would take too much time. But I do have someone in mind.” She stifled a yawn, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth.

“Who?” he asked, ready to wrap his head around his future, and hating that he wished he could return to the woods and hide from it.

“Tarley Fareview,” the queen said, her eyes closed and a smile on her face. “The commoner who saved your life.”

19

Scarlett pushed away from the counter as Tarley entered the kitchen. “Is everything okay?”

Tarley looked around, slightly dazed. How had she seen the queen, before she’d ever met the queen?

She focused on her mother, ignoring what she couldn’t fathom just then for something she could. “I can’t believe you accused him,” she said, shaking her head.

Ollie wasn’t Ollie. He was Prince Lachlan. She’d been right. Her eyes tracked everyone moving to get the kitchen cleared and closed for the night. The action was so normal, only everything felt strange and surreal. “I need some pain medication. For the guest.”

Scarlett nodded and hurried around to the stove. “I didn’t accuse him.”

“Close enough.”

“He’s a stranger. We don’t know him.”

“A stranger he may be, but I think I’d know if he was an assassin.”

“You can think you know someone,” Scarlett said, smacking the kettle onto the stove with a bit too much force.

“A cute stranger, your Ollie,” Brinna said, defusing the tension as she stacked clean bowls on the shelf.

“He’s not mine, Brinna.”

“But you do think he’s cute!” She giggled.

“He is handsome,” Jessamine smiled, lifting a tray covered with clean mugs. “Auri will be so disappointed to have missed meeting him.” She disappeared into the dining room with the tray.

Tarley ignored her sisters’ jibes. “Rose needs to get a message to her sister. I said she could trust Mattias.”

Mattias, carting heavy pots from outside, glanced at Tarley. “Trust me for what?”

Scarlett bristled. “Send him from Sevens? No. Absolutely not.”

“He’s old enough. Smart. Strong.”