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Toren’s breath hissed out.

“We are not,” Mehl said before his husband did something he would regret—like crush the man under a wave of energy. “Lady Gartren will become Duchess Hesslefyn, although all vassal Houses will be removed from her control until the House reestablishes its honor. If it ever manages such a feat.”

It pained Mehl to grant such a rank to the lady who’d been rude to Ria, but in a way, it was its own penalty. Decades would likely pass before Lady Gartren dared return to court, and for decades—if not centuries—after that, she would be subjected to the kinds of whispers and stares she’d once perpetuated. If nothing else, perhaps she would learn humility.

“In addition to the punishment already delivered, I decree this,” Toren said, his voice whipping across the throne room with a definite bite. “The former Duke Hesslefyn is sentenced to die for commanding the attempted murder of the High King, King Mehl, and Princess Ria. Since the rest of his family were unaware of such dark intentions, they will be spared such a final fate. The former duchess and their two guilty children, along with Eorge Poberie and Kleren Ogwen, will be imprisoned in the dungeon for fifty years and then exiled permanently from Llyalia. The healer, Vesset, will be imprisoned for the remainder of his life for following such inexcusable orders.”

A few heartbeats’ silence was broken by a gasp, then a growing stream of whispers. Only Mehl and Ria knew how Toren had agonized over the decision to order the duke’s execution, especially since Vesset’s had to wait until the full truth was revealed about King Ryenil. But no matter who Hesslefyn worked for, he had willingly ordered an assassination attempt.

No rank could be allowed to shield him from that.

“This is not a day for celebration.” Toren stood, Mehl following a breath later. His husband waited while the nobles sank to their knees. “I truly am grieved, for myself and for Llyalia. However, my hope is that such pointless treachery will be swept away to herald a time of greater prosperity and happiness for all. In fact, I bid you all return to your holdings to ensure stability in the wake of such shocking events. Court will be suspended for two weeks at a minimum.”

Mehl gestured at Sir Macoe, who ordered the guards to remove the prisoners—the former duke with some force. Then without a word, he and Toren exited the throne room, whispers swelling behind them like a wave. But from the tone of them, Mehl suspected all would be well soon enough. The courtiers’ energy would shift to the coming power struggle, many seeking to claim the influence lost by House Hesslefyn.

In other words, business as usual.

* * *

Weary to his soul,Toren dropped onto the sofa in their sitting room and tipped his head back, closing his eyes. What kind of king was he? What legacy would he leave? Surely not a good one. History would depict him as brutal at the rate he was going, and that would only get worse when he was able to try and execute Vesset for his mother’s murder.

The sofa jostled beneath him, and a warm weight curled against his side. “Ria.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you,” she said softly.

Toren nestled his head against hers. “I’m not. It was a terrible affair.”

“Your judgment was a fair one, love,” she insisted, her arm curling around his waist. “I’m still surprised you went so easy on the duchess. Mehl said she confessed to treason at dinner.”

“She did,” Mehl said, apparently finished changing out of his formal robes. “Everyone at court knows you could have had the lot of them executed for plotting against you. The laws explicitly allow that.”

True, yet it stung all the same.

“When will the sentence be carried out?” Ria asked.

“Within the week,” Toren answered, opening his eyes. Mehl stood over them with a concerned frown. “We were supposed to have our wedding a week after that, but now…”

“There has been no time to plan, and it’s not a great time, besides,” Ria finished. She turned her head until she could kiss his cheek. “So we’ll delay it. In a couple of months, it’ll be obvious that I’m with child, but we knew our deception couldn’t last forever. I would definitely rather alter my dress than try to have a celebration a few days after an execution.”

Toren sighed, but this time with relief. She’d been concerned about waiting too long for their wedding because of her pregnancy, so he’d worried that she would be upset. Of course,hewasn’t precisely happy about the delay itself. He wanted her by their side always and in all ways. Without question. But they deserved a wedding unmarred by such ugliness. It would be far better to clear away as much of the darkness as they could before starting anew with their fully united lives.

So wait they would.

* * *

Two monthslater

Ria smoothed the cream fabric over her growing waist and smiled in contentment. At first, she’d been worried about the delay in their wedding, but now, it felt perfect. She’d had time to settle into the palace, and she’d learned a great deal about protocol during quiet afternoons with Ryssa. But best of all? For the first time, it would be obvious to everyone that Ria carried Toren’s heir.

She was tired of hiding behind the careful cut of her dresses, and all three of them had agreed that they could no longer continue the farce. If they’d failed to oust any of King Ryenil’s spies, the wedding would be confirmation that the Eyamiri line would continue. But neither Mehl nor Toren thought even a remaining spy would dare to be so bold as to accost her at this point. The court was on high alert, and the constant power struggle taking place would ensure that anyone acting suspicious would be exposed just to earn Toren’s favor.

“Are you ready?” Ryssa asked from behind her.

Smiling, Ria turned. “Yes. Are you sure you wish to walk all that way with me?”

Almost three months further along, the princess was already large with child. But a rare smile crossed her face as she nodded. “I would see you happily wed, my friend.”

“Even though you’re not particularly fond of my spouses?”