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“Everything and nothing.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your help,” he said, straight and to the point. “Just as I told you back in the palace. I need your cooperation, and your position, and your skills. I needyou,Princess Wren.”

She wanted to refuse. But she’d be beyond stupid if she didn’t acknowledge how powerful a player Arrik was in this dangerous pit of vipers she’d found her in. It would be to her utmost advantage to help him.

After all, hadn’t Wrenalreadycome to that conclusion all on her own?

“I won’t be your plaything,” she said, slowly, “but I’ll be your partner. No secrets. No manipulating me into doing something when it actually means another thing. Equals.”

“That’s all I ever wanted.”

It sounded so genuine, Wren’s heart hurt to hear it.

She couldn’t trust it.

Keep your wits about you.

Arrik finally, inexorably, took a step away from her, then another and another. He nodded toward the dagger on the ground. “Keep that for protection against the men in Idril’s court. I trust you know you must be careful in there.” He paused again: “It was given to you in the first place anyway.”

She picked up the dagger and peered at it, curious about what Arrik meant, only to realize it was the Vadonese blade the prince’s brother, Kalles, had given her on her wedding day.

“I don’t need this to protect me from the men in there,” Wren assured Arrik softly, holding up the Vadonese blade to point it at him for emphasis. “I can handle myself just fine. All I ever needed protection from was the devil I married.”

He smiled. “You need more protection from me than you know, wife.”

24

WREN

The week passed in a flurry of yelling, threats, and interrogations.

She kept expecting to be caught out for her duplicity, but after it was discovered that Leif had broken several of Lord Idril’s slaves out of his castle and set them free, she remained free.

Vienne suspected Wren was in on Leif’s plan, but she had no proof.

Idril was convinced that Wren had orchestrated the whole thing. He had no proof either and Vienne wasn’t about to let him go after one of her people.

Arrik’s appearance had rattled the lord, and despite his anger he kept his hands and threats to himself.

She hoped Leif made it to Gunn’s ship safely. She hoped they could trust the pirate to actually get the people they’d freed to their homes. That was the only part that she worried about.

She prayed Leif would escape death at the hands of the rebellion and Lord Idril for betraying them. Not just so Wren had a comrade in arms whom she could confide in and trust, but because, first and foremost, Leif was her friend. Without him, there was only the prince, and he was as far from a friend.

Still, for the sake of remaining silent, it was good for Leif to be out of sight. Wren would catch him up on everything that had occurred when she saw him next.

Which meant hehadto be all right.

“Something on your mind?”

Wren bolted upright from the log she was sitting on in the outskirts of the forest, just by Idril’s castle. The prince had crept toward Wren as silent as a jungle cat. He wasn’t wearing armor today—not even leather—but dressed in a simple black cotton shirt, thick black trousers, and knee-length lace-up boots. He was a massive man, but the far lowlier clothing made him seem, if not more approachable, less intimidating somehow.

“Was that necessary?” she barked, her tone sharper than was needed. Why did he feel the impulse to sneak up on her?

“I enjoyed it immensely.”

Her gaze darted to the castle and then back to Arrik. She arched a brow. “Bold of you to come so close. Aren’t you afraid of being caught?”