Page 60 of Blackheart

“Who?”I snarled.

My social circle was about the circumference of my pinky finger, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t lie.

“A Blackheart from the Northern Waywards. Her name is Elorengail Steele, but she goes by Elora Amona. Do you know her?”

My body stiffened. That was quite possibly the worst thing he could’ve said.

“I knew it was you,” he said, wonder lacing his tone.

Fuck.

Thunder shook the ground, beating through the sky almost as loud as my heart in my chest.

“Follow me to shelter,Elorengail.”My name slid off his tongue as if it were special, like he’d been waiting his entire life to speak to me.

If I ran, I wouldn’t survive the storm, nor would I receive any answers. How did he know about me or where to find me? And worse, what was he planning todowith me?

I was forced to walk in front of him through the camp until we reached a regal blue tent. Another Sapphire stood by the entrance, ushering us inside.

Never in my life did I think I would voluntarily walk into a Sapphire’s tent. Inside was a bed layered with fur blankets and red pillows. To my left was a long brown table scattered with documents.

Across the room sat a woman, the same one who had been in the original trio that attacked me. She lounged back, only briefly glancing up from her book.

Another Sapphire gathered up the papers, removing them before I was instructed to sit.

I skeptically did as I was told, keeping my eyes on Payn. He sat across from me, leaning back and spinning a ring on the table. He must not have drunk a satisfactory amount of blood to save me from falling, or it had taken a great deal of blood magic. The red in his eyes faded to a watery grey.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you go,” he announced.

While not the news I hoped to hear, I’d figured that was the case since the moment he tied me up in a tree.

“How do you know my name?” I pushed.

He sighed, stopping the spinning ring and flattening it on the table.

“Let’s start fresh, shall we? I am Prince Payn Vikesh, son of Saffron the Blood Bather, and Heir to Lestivia. Now, it's your turn.”

Mother of Moons, I was sitting across from the mad conqueror's son.

I cleared my throat. “I’m Elora Amona, daughter of a dead man.”

He smirked and shook his head. “No, you are Elorengail Steele, of Blackheart. Daughter of King Ashton, and an heiress to the Bastard Kingdom of Castivian. Have you not spent enough of your life belittled? Must you cast your own shadow?”

He tilted his head. “Your brother is looking for you, too.”

I stared at the table, heart racing. If he were telling the truth, then XavianknewI existed. Had he known his whole life?

Payn shifted his weight. “War is a complicated thing, love. My father is well-practiced, which is why it’s dangerous for everyone if I let you go.”

I shook my head, staying silent.

“My father wants Castivian, and he will wage a war if he must. Your bastard of a brother has turned away any offers that have come his way for a peaceful surrender. But my father thinks he’ll reconsider once we’re married.”

“Pardon?” I sat up straight.

He spun the ring again. “Marriages are an alliance, get used to it, Princess.” He looked at me with understanding, like he, too, had been in my seat, learning his fate of marriage.

The midnight-haired woman across the room peeked up from her book, face twisted and red eyes simmering. I glanced back at Payn. She was jealous. He meant something to her.