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Chapter forty-two

Tiberius

T witching his cloak closed against the unnatural chill of the day, Tiberius sucked in his cheeks and bit the inside of them as he veered to the right along the gravel path threading through the palace grounds.

He made for the dark shadows of the King’s Forest, his steps brisk, his curiosity piqued. The strange note his valet had delivered but an hour ago had named that looming treeline as the place to which he should journey for a clandestine meeting with an unnamed party.

The note had been unsealed. Unsigned.

Good sense would have dictated he ignore such intrigue completely. He should have gone on about his day and not given it a second thought .

But good sense was in short supply within the Elmorian court at present. Every courtier seemed unable to speak of anything at all other than the upcoming royal wedding, which was to occur in one week’s time.

A rushed affair. A suspiciously abrupt turn of events.

But it was all anyone cared about, when they should have been more worried about the fact that an Arathian horde was raiding along the coast just south of them in Arlund.

Tiberius would rather discuss the war at this point. He was sick of hearing about the wedding.

Even more so, he was tired of pretending it didn’t bother him in the slightest. For the better part of a year, he had endured Seraphina de la Croix claiming she did not wish to marry and did not need a husband.

And now, she was to be married. To that little monster, of all people.

Oh, Tiberius was sure there was some catch, some hitch, some plan . His queen always had some manner of plan. But whatever it was, he wasn’t privy to it.

Now she had forgiven him, he was still invited along to the library from time to time for games of Sovereign. But he was so far outside her inner circle at this point, he simply made do with what little existence he could carve out for himself at her side as the Distraction while he waited for her to finish with her own wedding plans.

Maybe then, she could be bothered to find him a bride at last.

But the rumors that he was back in her good graces were doing wonders for his trade deals with the city-states, at the very least.

His long legs made short work of his walk through the palace grounds, and before too long, the crunch of the gravel underfoot faded into the dull thud of his boots striking against the forest floor.

Once beneath the trees, it didn’t take Tiberius too long to locate his mysterious correspondent. Bennett Threston stood out against the greenery in his all-black ensemble.

“Bennett,” Tiberius dryly greeted his fellow noble with a crinkle of his nose and a glance flashed about the forest. It looked as if they were quite alone. “Couldn’t you have chosen some place warmer ?”

But the Duke of Coreto’s second-born son wasn’t in the mood for jests, it seemed. The other man didn’t so much as attempt to shift his visage into something less dour when he delivered up a flat, “No.”

Tiberius could only roll his eyes at that. “Very well. Get on with it, then,” he invited, rubbing his gloved hands together. Even through the layers of fine leather and fur, the wind drove itself straight into his bones. “What’s this all about, then?”

Lord Bennett shot a quick glance through the trees, back toward the palace. With his gaze averted, he revealed, “My father wishes to invite you to Coreto.”

Tiberius arched an eyebrow and waited for Lord Bennett to get around to delivering the rest of the message .

When no other words were forthcoming, though, he scoffed and turned back toward the palace. He didn’t have time for such nonsense.

An invitation like that could have easily been delivered to his valet.

Tiberius’s steps hitched to a pause when his fellow nobleman seized his shoulder and held him in place.

“I don’t think you heard me, Crestley,” Lord Bennett insisted, his voice still cast low, his tone firm. “My father is inviting you to Coreto .”

“Oh, I heard you the first time,” Tiberius reassured the other man while shaking him off. “I just do not care .” Beneath the drape of his cloak, he folded his arms across his chest and declared, “Good luck with whatever it is you are planning, but I want no part of it. Good day to you.”

Behind him, Lord Bennett huffed out a mirthless laugh. “That’s it, then? Running back to your queen? More card games to play, no doubt?” When Tiberius didn’t bother answering, the other man further declared, “You should be honored my father would even deign to notice you in the first place, Crestley.”

“Deign?” Tiberius couldn’t help but echo as his steps scraped to a pause again. “ Deign ?”

Whipping about, he glared Lord Bennett down and pointed out to him, “The only reason your father has sent you out here to try to lure me to Coreto in the first place is because he needs me.”

That certainly lured a sour pucker to Bennett’s lips .

But Tiberius was all too happy to reiterate the point when he all but shouted into the unfortunately cold air, “ He needs me .”

He couldn’t help but laugh when the Duke of Coreto’s spare looked away, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “Nothing to say, Bennett?” he taunted. “Because I’m right! And there we have it. The great Duke of Coreto himself is crawling to a Beaumont for a favor.”

Tiberius indulged in another bitter little laugh. “What is it then, hmm? What does your father need from me? A loan? Speak up, Bennett! I don’t have all day. Is he off shopping for mercenaries? Or a new wardrobe, perhaps?”

Again, Tiberius crinkled his nose and gave Lord Bennett a swift once-over. “Because black is not a universally flattering color, as you all seem to believe, I am afraid to say—”

“Ships,” Lord Bennett bit out. Sliding a reluctant look back his way, he finished, “My father needs your ships.”

“My ships?” Tiberius repeated. All the bitter amusement drained from him, like water pouring from a toppled cup. Wetting his lips, he glanced away. “Your father wants… my ships?”

The absurdity of it all was almost too much to bear.

“Well, the Beaumont Trading Company is not for sale,” Tiberius declared as his gaze cut back toward Bennett at last. “My ships, indeed. My ships? Please, Bennett. Your father couldn’t afford my ships, even if they were for sale.”

Lord Bennett spanned the distance between them in the matter of a few brisk steps so he might hiss to Tiberius, “My father doesn’t wish to buy your ships, you idiot. He wishes to conscript them. ”

And there it was. Treason .

Tiberius expelled a humorless breath of his own and met Lord Bennett’s gaze. “Then your father is a fool. Surely, he must realize I will always choose Her Majesty over him.”

Bennett’s lips twisted into a frown. “Yes, and how much longer will she be choosing you over the Crow, do you think?”

Tiberius jerked away and continued on through the forest.

He didn’t have to stand there and listen to such drivel.

But Bennett pursued him that time, taunting all the while, “How much longer do you think you’ll even have a place at court once he is king? Do you truly think he won’t have the man rumored to have been bedding his wife all these years executed?”

Tiberius shot a venomous look at Bennett over his shoulder and snarled, “If this is your attempt to win me over to your father’s side, then he should have sent a toad, because the toad would have been more charismatic.”

“It’s true, then,” Bennett abruptly laughed, drawing Tiberius to a halt yet again.

Those words most certainly weren’t a suitable reply to the insult he had just leveled at his dour peer.

“What’s true?” Tiberius demanded.

“You love her, don’t you? Truly?” Again, Lord Bennett laughed. That time, he even swiped a finger against the corner of his eye.

Tiberius’s already failing mood darkened further at the sight.

“Father and I always did wonder, you know. He was certain it was all just a ruse, but you…” Bennett shook his head one last time and leveled a pitying look Tiberius’s way. “By the Lady, Crestley. Ho w sad . Tell me something: do you pay the women at the brothel to let you call them Seraphina when you visit? Is that something one must pay extra for? Or is that sort of thing simply included in their usual rates? I wouldn’t know, since I—”

Whatever the Duke of Coreto’s second-born was about to say would forever be a mystery to Tiberius, given that he simply walked over and punched the words right out of the other man’s mouth.

“Be silent!” Tiberius shouted down to Lord Bennett where the weak coward had crumpled at his feet from the sheer force of the blow.

Tiberius drank in a deep breath. He let the cool air sear his lungs. And then he pasted a smile onto his lips. “Do give my best to your father for me, won’t you, dear Bennett? Assuming the queen’s guards don’t have you both seized the moment I finish telling Her Majesty all about your treasonous little plans, of course—”

“I have a sister,” Lord Bennett suddenly mumbled up at him around now wounded lips, cutting Tiberius off mid-sentence with that seemingly nonsensical utterance.

Blinking rapidly, Tiberius stared at the other man for a small eternity before he asked, “What? What did you say?”

Lord Bennett sniffed and rubbed his mouth, which now oozed blood all down his chin. “My father,” he explained from his place still down there, huddled on the forest floor, “wished for me to remind you that I…”

And there Lord Bennett smiled, his own blood shining between his teeth when he carefully reiterated, “… have a sister .”