Page 2

Now, he was merely empty.

What a terrible, tangled mess—and there was no guarantee that any of his sacrifices would resolve it. He’d become a villain to his twin and to his people, seemingly betrayed his wife, and missed the birth of their first child. He’d committed centuries upon centuries of shady deeds, the purpose behind them sometimes growing muddled. And for what?

Ber scowled as he settled the circlet atop his head in preparation for the evening meal. Trouble was stirring in the Centoi court, and for the first time in ages, it might actually slip out of his control. It was Duke Aony to blame, the fool—though an ambitious one. The man understood that King Ryenil needed removing, but the support the duke had pretended to give Ber had faded significantly over the last year. Dangerously so.

Nothing had made that clearer than the duke’s actions in Llyalia. The agreement had been for Duke Aony to escort Tes safely into hiding before faking her body double’s death. Instead, Aony had murdered the lookalike and instructed Toren to execute the “intruder” to their court—who he’d known very well was Tes.

The duke had tried to shrug those events off as mere reactions to changing circumstances, but that was an obvious lie. Duke Aony didn’t just want a corrupt king gone; he wanted the throne for himself. He’d chosen to betray Tes in the process, andfor that, Ber would ensure the man died in the most agonizing way possible.

In truth, Ber would happily slaughter the entire noble court if they so much as threatened his wife with the slightest scratch. If she was the jewel of Centoi, he would be the guard who protected her. Even if it meant she killed him herself. He would forever be hers to do with as she wished. First, though, he had to ensure it was safe for her to return.

Sucking in a ragged breath, he forced his emotions down and smoothed away any remnants from his expression. Only then did he leave his room for the dining hall. Servants, courtiers, even the king—all would see what he wished, in this case the image of a sad but confident heir. They would never guess how he seethed beneath the surface. But then, only Tes ever had.Shehad spotted the scared boy hiding within the youth who’d arrived here and had soothed him with her gentle smile and sweet nature.

In return, he’d effectively betrayed her.

What did she name the babe? Does he look more like her or me? If the trust between Toren and I weren’t so tenuous, I could perhaps—

No.

While traversing the corridors, he had to keep such thoughts buried deep. He would only put them all at risk, otherwise. If he could take down King Ryenil and preserve Tes’s throne, only then could he dare to open himself up to more. Learning more about his son now would do him no good.

Tes pattedSperan’s back and rocked, hoping his restless movements would settle into a true nap before her next sparringlesson. On the other side of the small table between them, Ria sat in her own chair nursing the one-month-old Elnaril. Tes and her friend shared a smile, but neither of them spoke. The quiet whoosh of the gliding rockers and the soft hum of baby noises was too satisfying.

Especially the quiet part—often, that was a rarity.

The door opened to admit Toren. He crossed the sitting room silently, but the uncharacteristic worry on his face suggested their peace was coming to an end. For although his gaze softened as it always did at the sight of his daughter, a firmness remained in his overall expression when he claimed the empty seat across from them.

Ria shot her a questioning look—Should I speak and risk waking the baby?—and Tes nodded.

“What is it?” the queen whispered to her husband.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The latest report from Centoi has me concerned.”

Tes’s hand froze mid-pat, causing Speran to let out a long whimper of protest until she continued. What could be going on in Centoi that was bad enough for Toren to mention it? He usually avoided the topic when she was near.

“I’m sorry, Ryssa,” Toren said. “But as we’re alone, it seemed the best time to speak of it. I’m seriously concerned that a war is brewing.”

Only the warm weight of her baby against her shoulder prevented her from leaping to her feet. “What’s my traitor of a husband doing now?” Tes demanded.

Something shifted in Toren’s eyes, that same odd, evasive look that appeared whenever Ber was mentioned. “It doesn’t seem to be anything he’s doing. Rather, there are stirrings amongst some of the noble houses about his position as heir. Some support him, but others are quietly building up power. The strongest of that second lot is Duke Aony.”

Tes cursed at the name, though in a way, it was fitting. The man who’d claimed to be helping Tes while colluding with Ber had now turned on them both. Unfortunately, though, she couldn’t sit back and watch her husband receive his just reward. Some of those nobles had a reasonable claim to the throne, being cousins of the king. Distant, but related by blood where Ber was not.

They were moving more quickly than she’d anticipated toward asserting those claims. Could she afford to take five more months to hone her fighting skills while they plotted? For Toren was right. If something wasn’t done, there would surely be war.

To avoid it, she would have to return.

Chapter 2

Permission

Tes wiped the sweat from her brow and slumped onto the bench. Feref, the chamberlain, had cleared all the other furniture from the room, previously an unused sitting room down the hall from the nursery, and for the past month, Tes and Mehl had practiced combat here. Though it was somewhat small for training, the chamber was perfect in two ways: it was entirely secret, and it was close to the children.

What wasn’t perfect was how her form had weakened and shifted. She shouldn’t be panting here while Mehl stared down at her with a concerned frown.Helooked barely winded.But he didn’t recently bear and birth a child,she reminded herself. She hadn’t been able to train for a solid six months, and pregnancy changed the body a bit, in any case. She had no cause to be embarrassed.

Nevertheless… “Sorry.”

“Your need for rest doesn’t bother me,” Mehl said with a wave of his hand. “We’ve been training for nearly an hour. But you seem…off. Since I expected you to be packing a bag after what Toren told you, I can’t help but be worried.”