Page 14 of The Broken Prince

Her hands came together at her stomach, like they always did when she was nervous.

“He threatened me to stay away from you—my own wife. The general of HeartHolme ordered me, steward of HeartHolme and second in line to the throne of the Kingdoms, to stay away from my own fucking wife. Should have beheaded him.”

“When I told him what happened between us…he was upset.”

I felt no sympathy.

“And he did something he shouldn’t have done.”

And it was done, and it couldn’t be undone.

“But Ian, you can’t strip him of his title.”

“I can’t?” I asked coldly. “Because I fucking did, Avice. Maybe he shouldn’t have come at the damn steward of HeartHolme, brother of the King of Kingdoms. He can be replaced, but my blood and lineage can never be.”

“I don’t believe Huntley would support this—”

“Well, he’s here, and he supports it just fine.”

Her eyes flashed in disappointment. “Ian…”

Despite my fury and my hurt, I couldn’t help but notice how damn beautiful she was.

“This is all my fault. I should have told you, but I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“This isn’t your fault, and you shouldn’t take responsibility for another man’s stupidity. You’re better than that, Avice. Macabre dug his grave—and now he can lie in it.”

“You’ve never made a mistake, Ian? He acted rashly—”

“Are you kidding me right now?” I snapped. “I made a mistake. I acted rashly. Where’s my sympathy? Where’s my forgiveness?”

She stepped back, her eyes averted. “Not the same thing—”

“I found out my wife isn’t just fucking someone, but she has a relationship with someone, in the worst possible way. That’s worse if you ask me.”

She turned away, clearly overwhelmed by my ferocity. “Ian—”

“How long has this been going on?”

She folded her arms over her chest.

“Avice.”

“I don’t want to talk about this—”

“Too bad.” I walked up to her again. “Answer me.”

“I—I don’t know. A month…”

“And how did it happen?”

She still avoided my gaze. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because if the general moved in on the steward’s wife, I have every right to behead him—”

“Ian.” Now her eyes were on me again.

“I’ll fucking do it.”