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“Evanthe was not for me.” The thought alone made him queasy.

“She would have made a lovely queen.”

Raz gritted his teeth. A ruthless queen, to be sure, but he couldn’t imagine living with the woman. They’d grown up around each other, and it would be like marrying his sister. An irritating, fierce sister.

His mother tossed her hands in the air and flopped back into one of his leather chairs in a very unqueenly way. Her steely eyes pinned him to the spot as she laced her fingers over her stomach. “What do you want, Raziel? Ever since Mira denied you, you’ve changed. You’re drifting with no true anchor.”

He hated the little twinge of pain that pricked him at the mention of Mira—the woman he’d loved and had hoped to make his wife. But she’d not been for him. Mira had been happily married for a few months to a good man, although one who didn’t deserve her.

As if you were worthy of Mira.

He sighed and glanced to the right at the fire in the hearth—away from the knowing glint in his mother’s gaze. Raziel had never been able to hide anything from her. She had an uncanny way of pulling his secrets from him.

“I loved her,” he whispered softly. A painful truth. One he did not regret.

“And because of this unrequited love, you refuse to take a wife?”

“No.” While there was a special place in his heart for Mira, he wasn’t still pining. “My illusions of finding a love match like yours and father’s are well and truly over. I have moved on and will only marry for the betterment of Methi.”

His mum arched a brow. “Is that so? And Evanthe?”

He cleared his throat. “I’ve found no woman that fulfills those terms, including Evanthe.”

His mum snorted. “Terms. How unromantic.”

She slowly sat up and climbed out of the chair. His mother rounded his desk and laid her hand over his shoulder. He peered up at the woman who’d lost the love of her life too early, raised four children on her own, mourned two, and made a kingdom prosper despite the sickness. With her graying hair and wrinkles kissing the corners of her eyes and mouth, she was beautiful.

“Have you really decided not to look for a love match?” she asked softly.

“I’ve made my mind up,” he replied gruffly. “There are too many things our kingdom needs. I cannot be so selfish as to marry for love. It will be by necessity.”

“So be it.” She squeezed his shoulder with a sigh. “Then I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh?” he questioned, arching a brow.

“I’ve found what you seek. A trade agreement for Methi and a bride that comes with it.”

He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at his mum. There were Aermian duchesses, but none who could offer his kingdom what they needed. Blaise, the new Scythian Queen, was currently settling her kingdom after deposing the Warlord. They wouldn’t be offering a political marriage. Plus, his brother seemed quite enamored with the woman. He’d heard rumorsof Nagalian princesses, but they were trying to rebuild their deserted kingdom. Just who had his mother secured?

The queen mother gave him a sly smile. “You don’t know, do you?”

He cocked his head. “Who is it?” A sinking feeling settled in his gut.

“A Sirenidae princess.”

Blast it.

A blessing and a curse.

“You cannot be serious,” he snapped. “They are demons in disguise. They collect bones for treasures. They’re not natural.”

“Be that as it may, they also have healers and access to the best herbs in our known world. We need both desperately. If we don’t stop the newest wave of the blight, we won’t have any people left to govern.”

Raz pushed out of his chair, running his hands through his hair. He spun and faced the three arched windows of his study. The capital city of Skigara sprawled around the castle that was carved into the side of the Hollow Mountains. Dark green pine trees kissed the edge of the city and spread out like a large blanket, only broken up by farms and smaller villages. It was beautiful, but its beauty hid the truth.

His people were dying.

You must do something.