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F or the first time all day, Mareleau was no longer nauseous. She wanted to believe her calm stomach heralded a finite end to her morning sickness—a misleading term, by the way; she’d thank the seven gods if her roiling gut were relegated to morning—but her relief was likely due to the piece of candied ginger she’d just popped into her mouth. It was a welcome deviation from her constant refills of ginger tea and was all thanks to Ridine’s cook. Mareleau had recently learned that if she came to the kitchen to request a refill of her tea in person, the cook would dote on her and hand her a plate of the latest sweet she’d whipped up. The most recent gift being the handkerchief full of candied ginger she now held in her hand.

Mareleau suspected the woman had gleaned the reason behind her constant need for tea, hence the doting. While she’d normally be averse to such babying—she was a queen, after all—she rather liked the woman’s attention. And she certainly preferred the candied ginger over the tea.

She meandered away from the kitchen toward the keep but found her feet moving past the correct staircase in favor of a different one. One she’d already visited twice today and was forbade entrance?—

She pulled up short once she reached the stairwell in question. It was…empty.

She’d never seen the tower library stairwell unguarded. Not that she’d ever paid much attention to it before this morning. She’d come to call on Princess Aveline, and since the girl hadn’t been in her room, she figured she must already be at work in the tower. But when Mareleau inquired with the guard, he’d insisted she wasn’t there. Mareleau’s anxiety increased after that, right alongside her incessant nausea. She’d been looking for the princess all day to no avail. She tried to tell herself she was simply bored, but after their strangely comforting conversation the day before, she had to admit she wanted to check in on her. Especially since today was the day she and Teryn were to be wed. Had Aveline managed to tell Teryn about the curse? Had she made peace with her sudden marriage? Had their hushed wedding already taken place?

Mareleau knew a thing or two about such matters. Her own wedding had been hurried, but at least she’d been given a feast afterward. Yet it was already nearing sundown and Mareleau hadn’t heard a word whispered about the princess’ nuptials or her impending rise to queen.

She cast a glance down both ends of the hall, which were empty, and approached the stairwell. A shudder coursed through her as she glanced up the narrow staircase. Her ladies had whispered time and again that this was where Lurel had taken her fall. A pang of grief struck her heart, but she swallowed it down—along with a fresh piece of candied ginger, for good measure. Then, with wary steps, she began to climb.

The door at the top of the stairs was unguarded as well, left open to reveal strands of herbs hanging in the doorway. The waning evening light cast the stairwell in shadow, as well as the room ahead. Perhaps it was only the rumors that sent apprehension crawling up her spine, but whatever it was, it made her want to keep her steps slow. Silent. She lifted her skirts higher, careful not to step on her hem.

She reached the landing and slowly approached the doorway. The scent of rosemary and old smoke wafted into her nostrils. She frowned at the hanging herbs blocking the top of her view and ducked down for a better glimpse of the room. It looked like total chaos, with crowded bookshelves, a cluttered table piled with objects wrapped in cloth, and two large basins beside an empty fireplace. Mareleau had no desire to step inside the room, for she’d surely find herself covered in dust, soot, and whatever the white substance was that lined the threshold. She was about to call out for Aveline when movement caught her eye.

At the far end of the room, near one of the bookcases, a male figure kneeled. She ducked lower, catching sight of brown hair streaked with white, dark trousers, a linen shirt, and a dark blue waistcoat. He was reaching into a hole in the stone floor. She watched as he extracted two small items that looked like glass vials. He pocketed them, then reached for a large object at his side—a square stone—and gingerly set it into the hole. The sound of stone scraping stone set her teeth on edge. When he was done, there was no sign of the hidden compartment.

The man rose to his feet. Mareleau startled and took a step back, reminding herself just in time that she was at the top of a stairwell. She cast a glance behind her and flung out a hand to catch herself against the wall. When she returned her attention to the room, the man was just on the other side of the doorway. But it wasn’t just any man. It was Teryn.

Her eyes went wide. “Teryn, your…your hair! What happened?”

“Ah, yes. Everyone wants to know about my hair.”

She arched a brow. That did nothing to explain the white streaks. Equally as concerning were the dark circles under his eyes, the pallor of his skin. “Are you unwell?”

“I’m perfectly well, thank you for asking,” he said, voice smooth and disinterested. His smile held an edge she didn’t understand. Perhaps she wasn’t supposed to see him rifling around in here, digging in that hidden hole.

Well, lucky for him, it was Aveline she was concerned with, not him. She couldn’t care less about her brother-in-law. Especially if he was going to continue to act so strange. What did Aveline see in him, anyway?

“Where’s Aveline?”

He smirked. “You’ve come to know her on a first-name basis, yet you call her Aveline and not Cora?”

“She hasn’t asked me to call her Cora, and I’ve only decided as of yesterday that I sort of like her.” Though now that he mentioned it, she most certainly would start calling her Cora. Even Larylis referred to her as such. And Mareleau was nothing if not at least a little competitive. If anyone would prove to be Aveline’s—no, Cora’s—closest friend, it would be her. She’d see to it.

But first she had to find the girl.

“So,” Mareleau said, giving him a pointed look, “where is she? I’ve been looking everywhere.”

“Why?”

She lifted her hand, showing off the white gold and sapphire bracelet that dangled from her wrist. “I wanted to give her this and tell her she can’t keep it.”

Teryn gave her a questioning look.

“Something borrowed,” she said. “Obviously. It’s her wedding day. I thought she could use at least one small tradition.” To be honest, the bracelet was merely meant to serve as an excuse to talk to Cora so that she wouldn’t have to admit she was concerned for the girl. Mareleau may have decided making friends with someone might not be the worst thing in the world, but she still had her pride.

“Oh, of course,” Teryn said.

Yet still he failed to answer her question.

“Are you trying to be evasive or are you just naturally annoying?” she asked, planting her hands on her hips.

Teryn gave her a simpering grin but said nothing.

She pulled her head back. Where was his clever quip? His insult? Mareleau respected people who had the gall to volley her with scalding banter, and if that made her a masochist, so be it. At least she could trust someone who did more than flatter, pander, and praise. Teryn’s teasing wit was what had finally endeared him to her, and her unanswered question practically begged for a clever return, but he…said nothing.

Mareleau released an exasperated groan. “Where is she, Teryn? Where the seven devils is Cora?”

He stepped over the threshold to join her on the landing. She descended the next step down to put space between them. “My darling wife will be in seclusion until the signing of the peace pact. We’re keeping our marriage a secret for now, and in the meantime, she is taking the time to properly come to terms with her change in status. It’s a great responsibility, becoming queen, as you well know.”

His words sparked her pride, and she almost answered with an automatic Of course I know , but she stopped herself. He still hadn’t given her a clear answer.

“She isn’t in her room,” she said, “and Master Arther claims not to have seen her since last night.”

Teryn’s mouth tightened, but he quickly donned an easy grin that didn’t meet his eyes. “As my wife, she no longer needs to stay in her own room.”

She blushed at what he was suggesting, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d had Master Arther unlock Teryn’s room this morning too, when he hadn’t answered his door. Thankfully the steward was amenable to Mareleau’s commands, despite being only a visiting queen, but now she was more perplexed than ever. Did Ridine perhaps have a wedding chamber like the one she and Larylis spent their first night in? If so, why would Cora be there all day while Teryn was out here? Alone?

“Surely, she’ll accept my visit—” Her words cut off as Teryn handed her an envelope.

“A letter arrived from your husband this morning.”

Her heart stuttered as she tore the envelope from his grip and immediately flicked open the seal. Before she could read its contents, she glanced back at Teryn. “Why do you have my letter? Why wasn’t it delivered directly to me?”

“Larylis had a letter for me as well, so the messenger delivered them together. I offered to bring you yours.”

That was an adequate excuse, she supposed…

“Don’t expect too many more before his arrival,” he said. “He’ll be traveling by now and likely won’t have time to write. And you have your own travels to prepare for.”

Excitement flooded her. Larylis was on his way! He’d be here soon, and after the pact was signed, she could return home with him. Was that what travels Teryn was referring to? Surely she didn’t need to prepare for departure just yet.

“You may not have heard,” Teryn said, “but the signing will now take place on a celebratory hunt. In a few days, we’ll make camp not too far from here and await the arrival of your husband and father.”

Her eyes went wide. “We? As in…me? Going…hunting?” She wrinkled her nose. She’d never been on a hunt before, and she certainly didn’t like the sound of camping. Sleeping at shoddy inns on her way to Ridine had been bad enough.

“I want you there. Cora wants you there. As Queen of Menah and heir to Selay, you’re an important part of this pact. Besides, it will allow you more time with your beloved husband. He will be going straight there regardless of whether you attend.”

Mareleau narrowed her eyes. There was something about the way he’d phrased that last part that almost made it feel like a threat.

Teryn’s smile softened. “What will you call it?”

She paled. Was he referring to the baby? Last they’d spoken, she’d confessed to having lied about her condition. Had her newest change of fortune already spread through the castle?

“Your two kingdoms,” Teryn clarified, dousing her anxiety. “Once you’re queen of both Menah and Selay, what name will give your new land?”

She gave a flippant shrug. “I haven’t considered it.”

He took a step closer, his feet reaching the edge of the platform. Mareleau descended another step. “You should think about it. You’re a powerful woman, Majesty. Power should fill your every thought. I know it fills mine.”

She lowered her brows with a dark glower. “Shouldn’t your new wife fill your thoughts instead?”

“Oh, she does. It is because of her that I am here. To give her peace of mind, I’ll tidy up her work in the tower. It’s merely a matter of redecorating. Surely even I can do that.”

Then why the hell had he asked her to set up his private dinner with Cora a few nights back? Furthermore, the odd clusters of hanging herbs and basins on the floor made it seem like there was something other than redecorating going on. She was about to say as much but thought better of it. Brother or no, she didn’t like conversing with him when he was in this strange mood. A mood he’d been in since the dinner they shared, she didn’t fail to note.

She left him with no other farewell than an irritated scoff and descended the stairs. Her muscles were coiled with agitation. She still hadn’t figured out where Cora was. Nevertheless, she’d find her. Until it came time to leave for this grand hunt she was now expected to attend, she’d have little else to do.

At least she had one source of comfort. She opened her husband’s letter and sank into the solace of his words.