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“Oh, I am grieving,” Ber said to Toren. “But she did get what she deserved.”

The muscles in Ryssa’s arm tightened beneath Ria’s hand, but the princess didn’t make a sound. A feat worthy of a commemorative statue, surely. Though Toren could appear unfeeling at times, his brother’s blank expression as he’d delivered that judgment was a lesson in casual cruelty. The words had cut Ria’s heart deep—and they hadn’t even been directed at her. How much worse to be the woman in question?

From the delay in Toren’s response, he must have been shocked, too.

“That’s cold, even for you,” the High King finally snapped.

“She wanted to see what manner of man you are, and she succeeded,” the prince said. “I could not have described your character so well with mere words. My wife had to experience it for herself.”

If Ria hadn’t been studying Prince Ber so closely, she would have missed it—the slight flick of his eyes toward Ryssa with those final words. But wait. No. She had to be mistaken. Gods, sheprayedshe was mistaken. If the prince had seen through their ruse, the princess’s life would be in danger for sure.

Then again, if Ber did know that his wife was alive in their court, then his statement made no sense. He’d sent her here to experience Toren’s supposed ruthlessness, not his kindness, so Ber wouldn’t have considered her survival a success. Perhaps he’d been distracted by movement, either from Ryssa or a servant behind her.

Or it was a struggle for him to meet his brother’s gaze.

“You know perfectly well that I would not mistreat a member of my family.” Toren straightened in his seat. “Had the princess identified herself to me at once, I would have welcomed her despite your crimes. She needn’t have camped outside the city.”

“She should have been safe.” Bertsked. “Alas, for bandits. Really, Toren, I’m worried for our people if you allow such criminals to run rampant across the kingdom.”

Such an unusual, almost calm, discussion for supposed enemies.

Ria glanced between the brothers. The conversation lacked…something. A certain fire. It was as though their hearts weren’t in it, yet they spoke as though they hated one another. Was it because of Toren’s mixed feelings for his twin or because Ria was unfamiliar with Ber’s mannerisms?

Either way, a sense of wrongness niggled at the back of her mind.

“Curious, those bandits,” Toren said. “We’ve found no sign of any others in our subsequent sweeps of the area. Your wife was an unlucky woman, it seems. No matter what you think of me, you must concede that I would have guarded her better here.”

Once again, something flickered in Ber’s eyes, and Ria saw it for certain this time—the prince looked toward Ryssa. Easily dismissed the first time but suspicious the second, particularly with the timing. Ria’s heart dropped. If Ber didn’t know, he suspected.

“My perfect, perfect brother,” the prince drawled. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

Ria’s breath caught. What did it mean? It was possible Ber had come to confirm that Toren had killed his wife and child. But if the prince had discovered that his plan had failed, there was no anger evident in his demeanor. Only disdain and cool reserve. He must intend to strike later.

“What do you want, Ber?” Toren demanded. “Why are you here?”

Ber’s sly smile returned. “Rumors accompanied the body of my dearest Lora. I wanted to confirm them.”

At the name Lora, a tremble shook down Ryssa’s arm. Ria finally dared a quick glance, but the princess’s face held no sign of turmoil. Her expression was serene—almost bored. But Ria knew how much the princess hated that name. For him to call her Lora… It was yet another sign of his lack of regard—and possibly a hint about his poor intentions.

Toren leaned forward, and the brothers’ gazes locked in a silent war. “Do tell, Ber. It is clear that you want to.”

Though he didn’t look away, the prince’s grin widened.

“I heard that you’d entered a breeding alliance,” Ber said. “I thought I should see if there’s another woman who needs to be saved.”

One little statement, and Ria’s blood ran cold.

Chapter57

Ultimatum

Stark fear froze Toren to his seat for a single heartbeat before rage pulsed his energy to new heights. Ria flinched, and Mehl’s breath hissed in. Beyond the High Table, the nobles seated nearest shuddered from the force, and Ber’s eyes blazed with satisfaction. Toren scrabbled for his shields, barely managing to harden them before he exploded half the dining hall. That would be the kind of disaster his brother wanted.

“You will not threaten our wife,” Toren snarled.

Ber’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Wife?”

Toren should have felt bad about the slip—Ria had been angry when he’d uttered something similar at court—but dark pleasure filled him to say the words aloud. “Lady Ria has agreed to wed Mehl and I formally, but we have already formed a link. She is our wife. Still, I hope you’ll understand why you aren’t invited to the official wedding. All things considered.”