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All her life, Ahnna Kertell had held authority in Ithicana. Princess. Commander. Regent. All positions that she’d used in defense of her homeland.

Today, she gave up all her authority, though her goal remained the same: do whatever it took to protect the people of Ithicana.

Ostensibly, her abdication was necessary to fulfill the terms of the Fifteen-Year Treaty—to become a bride of peace for the crown prince of Harendell. An alliance her mother had signed all those long years ago. A vow that Ahnna had reaffirmed to King Edward of Harendell in order to gain his support in the war against the Maridrinians.

And not once in her life had Ahnna Kertell broken her word.

Sitting on a rocky ledge on the highest point of Northwatch, Ahnna surveyed the island holding the mouth of the northern end of Ithicana’s famed bridge, watching the traffic in the market below her.

She’d never much liked this island.

Southwatch, the island she’d lived on and protected for nearly a third of her life, was green and lush, the buildings blending into the landscape much as they did throughout the rest of Ithicana, making the whole of it seem alive and nearly sentient at times.

Northwatch looked like nothing more than a huge block of rock that some giant or god had cast into the sea. Three times the size of Southwatch, it was covered with warehouses and silos and feedlots, the mouth of the bridge contained by an enormous fortress, the perimeter of the island bristling with stone fortifications that held Ithicana’s famed shipbreakers. Three large piers jutted into the sea, and with several ships in port, the merchant crews were busy unloading cattle that would be run through the bridge and sold in the Southwatch market.

Even from her lofty perch, the smell of the animals filled Ahnna’s nose, their calls of distress over the rough passage across the strait loud as they ran through chutes into large pens. Already, a dozen prospective buyers gathered around to inspect the stock. It would be only a matter of minutes before the jarring racket of a Harendellian-style auction took over the island as they bid for the remaining stock that Aren hadn’t purchased to feed the people.

That, more than the landscape, was why Ahnna didn’t like Northwatch: because it didn’t feel like Ithicana at all.

A boot scraped against rock, and Ahnna instinctively reached for the knife at her waist before relaxing at the sight of her twin brother.

Aren lowered himself onto the rock next to her and dangled his legs off the edge. “You’re jumpy.”

Ahnna shrugged. “No Ithicanian worth his salt makes that much noise climbing a cliff—I assumed you were a Maridrinian rat we’d neglected to exterminate.”

Aren’s jaw tightened. Rather than calling her out for the comment, he gestured to the ships below. “The Amaridian vessel was full of fortified wine. The captain invited me to sample his wares, and he was generous with his pours.”

“Since when can’t you hold your drink?” Her tone was more acidic than she’d intended, and Ahnna winced. She and Aren had been flinging jabs at each other since before they’d learned to speak, but though she loved her brother dearly, her jabs no longer held affection. “I’m sorry.”

Silence stretched between them, and then Aren shook his head and sighed. “You don’t have to go, Ahnna. The Harendellians are practical—they’ll be more than willing to accept beneficial trade terms in lieu of you as a bride. I’ll negotiate a deal with Edward. You can be back in command of Southwatch within a fortnight.”

God help her, but there was a part of her soul that desperately wanted to take the offer. The part that was terrified to leave. But allowing it to make decisions would make her a coward. “No. Not only did I give my word, but I already gave them concessions in order to gain their assistance with Maridrina.”

“It’s not breaking your word if the Harendellians agree to a change of terms. All they care about is the perception they’re coming out ahead in the transaction, and there are things I can offer that don’t cost us money. Besides, it’s Mother’s word, not yours.”

Ahnna’s eyes fixed on the last cow being prodded off the ship. The handlers poked it in the haunches with sticks to get it to move while the animal lowed, head swaying back and forth, disoriented. It started down the gangway, and Ahnna’s heart lurched as it slipped and fell, sliding down the slick surface. It struck out with its feet, the boards on the sides of the gangway pulling loose.

She rose to her feet despite knowing there was nothing to be done if the cow went into the water. It thrashed about, hind legs sliding over open air, and Ahnna sucked in a breath. But then the cow righted itself. Calling loudly, it trotted down the chute to join the rest of its herd, little knowing that it had escaped one death only to be delivered into the hands of another. “My word matters to me,” she said. “When I met with Edward to secure his aid in liberating Northwatch, I recommitted to my intention to wed William as part of the deal. I’m not putting Ithicana at risk for the sake of my feelings.”

Given Aren had done just that, twice, she might as well have stuck a knife in his back and twisted.

Instantly regretting her words, Ahnna watched her brother rise to pace back and forth along the ledge, his temper fraying. It always did when they were together, and she knew it was her doing. Knew that she needed to stop punishing him. Except her anger, always simmering in her core, refused to concede.

Aren rounded on her. “This is because of Lara, isn’t it? You intend to make me choose between my wife and my sister.”

It was about Lara. And it wasn’t.

Once the traitor queen, but now the queen of legend. Slayer of Ithicana’s enemies, liberator of the people, chosen of the kingdom’s guardians, and soon-to-be mother of its heir. Many had forgotten that Lara had caused the death of thousands of Ithicanians.

Ahnna had not.

“I’m not asking you to choose anything,” she answered. “I’m going to Harendell. End of discussion, Your Grace. ”

She tried to step past him to reach the path leading down the steep incline to the market below, but Aren blocked her way. “This is madness,” he snarled. “Harendell is not like Ithicana. They’ll force you to give up everything you love, make you wear gowns and corsets, and imprison you in parlors to do needlework all day. You’ll go from being the commander of Southwatch to being a Harendellian prince’s—”

“Wife?” she interrupted, because if he finished the statement the way he no doubt intended, she’d have to hit him. And because she didn’t want him to put voice to everything she’d be giving up. “What I’ll be is the future queen of Harendell.”

“Which, given it means a life of teatime and embroidery, is the last thing you want.” Aren lifted his hands to rub his temples, then met her gaze. “I know you don’t want to go, Ahnna. Ithicana is everything to you.”

She didn’t want to go. Yet neither could she bear to stay. “It’s because Ithicana is everything to me that I’m going. Ithicana is weak, Aren. More than that, we’re broke. Maridrina has nothing to export, and Valcotta is funneling everything it can into Maridrina. The only revenue we have is the tolls paid by Harendell and Amarid, and they are half what they were before the invasion. We need gold, and lots of it, to rebuild what was lost and keep our people fed while we do it.” She gestured to the cattle. “How many of those cows did you buy to be butchered and distributed to your people?”

“Fifty head,” he muttered.

“And how did you pay for them?” When he didn’t answer, she added, “How did you pay for the shipment of grain you bought yesterday? The barrels of nails? The lumber? The wool?”

Silence.

“How much do you owe Harendellian and Amaridian merchants, Aren? How in debt are we to the north? How long can you keep buying on credit until they realize our credit is no good?”

More silence.

“As soon as they realize you can’t pay, they’ll know just how weak Ithicana is. And the weak are always the greatest targets. It will be pirates first, but how long until one of the northern nations takes a page from Silas’s book and goes after the bridge itself? Would you like me to remind you how it goes for Ithicana when we lose the bridge?”

“I don’t need you to explain the stakes.”

“Don’t you?” She glared at him. “Even once we’ve overcome this hurdle, too many people know their way past our defenses for our shores to ever be fully protected again. I can do more to defend Ithicana as queen of Harendell than I ever could as commander of Southwatch.”

Aren’s tone was bitter as he said, “You’re wrong about that. They’ll put a crown on your head, but the only decision you’ll ever get to make is who sits next to who at the dinner parties. You’ll be nothing compared to what you are now.”

Ahnna’s chest tightened to the point that she couldn’t breathe, a thousand retorts forming in her head, but her throat strangled every last one of them. “Even if that’s the case, it’s the right choice. Harendell’s trade is worth more than I am. You’re coming out ahead.”

“You make it sound like I’m selling you,” he snapped.

“I’m selling myself. Do me a favor and put the profits to good use.”

Tension simmered between them. Sucking in a mouthful of air, Ahnna gestured to the pair of ships approaching from the north, sunlight glinting off royal-blue paint and shining gilt, the flags snapping in the wind. “My buyers are here. So why don’t you sober up, order the pier cleared as it should have been an hour ago, and go greet them like a proper king.”

Not responding, Aren twisted on his heel and stormed down the path. Jor and Lia rose from where they’d been waiting and followed, the rest of his honor guard notably absent. Likely with Lara, who needed her back watched far more than Aren did, for Ahnna was not the only Ithicanian who hadn’t forgiven the queen.

Dragging in breath after breath of air, Ahnna tried to ignore the sweat dripping down her back as she watched the ships draw nearer. One of them held the man she was supposed to marry.

William, Crown Prince of Harendell.

She made a face, the memory of his portrait filling her mind’s eye. He looked like his father, King Edward. Slender, with chestnut hair and green eyes, his features were handsome in a beautiful and yet entirely uninteresting way. Her cousin Taryn had taken one look and said, “I’d bet the only fighting he’s ever done is in a courtyard duel with dull rapiers.”

Ahnna was inclined to agree; nothing about his fancy clothes and trim build suggested a man dedicated to combat, though there was a chance the artist had taken liberties in the likeness.

Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing to be wed to a man who didn’t make violence a daily part of his life. God knew, she brought enough of that to the table. Reaching up, Ahnna touched the scar that bisected her face, still red despite the salve Nana had given her to help it fade.

Would he find it ugly?

The answer to that was abundantly obvious.

Ahnna shook her head sharply. It didn’t matter what he thought of her looks or her of his. This was a political arrangement, and she’d been raised not to expect sentiment within it. You are a princess, her mother’s voice echoed inside her head. Your hand will bind the most powerful nation in the north to Ithicana, just as your brother’s eventual marriage to a Maridrinian princess will bind the south. This treaty offers Ithicana a chance at peace.

So far, all the treaty had brought to Ithicana was war, but Harendell was not Maridrina.

And she was not Lara.

One of the Harendellian ships drew away from the other, heading toward the eastern pier despite there being a vessel still moored. She should go down and prepare to meet it, but Ahnna wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready to let go of Ithicana, her friends, and her family just yet, and with the pier still full of wine casks, there was time yet to remain up here.

Where she could breathe.

With practiced hands and steady feet, Ahnna circled the peak of the island, pausing only when the market and port were completely out of sight and all of Ithicana stretched out before her. The bridge snaked its way between islands, the mist shifting around the stone, making it seem alive. Gone was the stink of cow, and instead, the wind smelled of salt and jungle, with a hint of sharpness that spoke of coming rainstorms.

Her home.

Abruptly, Ahnna’s skin prickled, some sixth sense telling her danger lurked. Jerking her weapon loose, she whirled.

To find herself face-to-face with one reason she needed to leave Ithicana behind.

Lara stood on the rocks, her long honey-colored hair blowing behind her in the wind. She wore a Maridrinian-style dress over her rounded belly, the diaphanous silk rippling with each gust, her feet encased in delicate sandals. Ahnna hadn’t the slightest idea how the other woman had climbed in such attire, but then again, Lara wasn’t the type to be restricted by something as inconsequential as clothing. Or even something as consequential as pregnancy. “What do you want?”

A grimace formed on Lara’s beautiful face, her blue eyes vibrant against her suntanned skin. “You know he didn’t mean what he said. Fear makes him say stupid things.”

Once a spy, always a spy, Ahnna thought, but she only said, “I don’t need you to make apologies for my twin, Your Grace. As it is, our conversations are none of your damned business.”

“I’m not apologizing for him. I’m here to tell you that he’s wrong.” Lara picked her way through the rocks, closing the distance between them. Ahnna forced herself to sheathe her weapon, though her instincts still demanded she remain on guard around this woman. It had always been that way, even before Ahnna had known what Lara was. What she was capable of. Ahnna had passed it off as her own uneasiness and inexperience with outsiders, but she should’ve trusted herself.

How many people would still be alive if she had? How many people would still be breathing if she’d trusted herself and put a knife in Lara’s chest the moment she arrived?

Instead, Ahnna had left her brother alone with the most dangerous woman on two continents, and Ithicana had paid the price tenfold. “What part of what he said was wrong? You don’t need me here. And I know you don’t want me here, Lara.”

Lara huffed out an amused breath, ever and always difficult to provoke. “You’re wrong about that.”

Ahnna’s temper flared. She resented the level of control Lara wielded. Resented how she’d been reduced to a pawn on the queen’s game board. “It was your damned idea to use me to gain Harendell’s support in the war. Why are you backtracking now?”

The other woman opened her mouth to speak; then her brow furrowed, and she gave the slightest shake of her head. “The people trust you, Ahnna. More than they trust Aren, and far more than they’ll ever trust me. It would help us if you remained.”

That wasn’t what Lara had intended to say—Ahnna was certain of it. Even now, after everything, Lara still hid things like the spy she’d been. Like the Maridrinian she still was. “Go for another swim with the sharks, Your Grace. Perhaps that will bolster the sentiment of the people.”

Lara tensed ever so slightly then exhaled. “I’ll take that as a no to remaining in Ithicana.”

“I made a vow to King Edward that I’d travel to Harendell once the war was over. You and Aren may have forgotten that vow, but I have not.”

Silence.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then why are you both trying to make me break my word?” Ahnna demanded. “Why are you both working so hard to keep me from going?”

“You’re Aren’s sister. He wants you to be happy, and you’ll be miserable in Harendell.”

Ahnna’s hands balled into fists. “How is my happiness worth more than filling Ithicanian children’s empty bellies and rebuilding their homes? My happiness isn’t the reason Aren is digging in his heels. Tell me the truth or fuck off.”

Silence stretched between them, and then Lara sighed. “He’s worried that your going to Harendell will make the situation worse because you’ll damage our relationship with the crown.”

Hurt pooled in Ahnna’s stomach, because she hadn’t realized her brother had so little faith in her. “I got along just fine when I met Edward to negotiate.”

“He’s not thinking of Edward.” Lara looked away, her eyes on the bridge, though Ahnna didn’t think she was seeing it. “The women of Harendell are far from powerless. They might not wield weapons or fight in wars, but they influence everything that happens, every decision that is made. None is more powerful than Queen Alexandra. Or more dangerous.”

Ahnna suppressed a shiver at the name of the woman who’d soon be her mother-in-law, remembering how Keris had told her that the queen would toast your name while poisoning your cup. “You picked up all that during your months of drowning yourself in wine in the company of sailors in the seediest port taverns of Harendell? I didn’t realize the nobility frequented such establishments.”

Spies had reported that was how Lara had spent the weeks after the invasion. Drinking while Ithicana lost battle after battle to the Maridrinians, Ahnna’s people forced to flee their homes for Eranahl or hide in the isolated outer islands. Drinking and God knew what else while Ithicanians were dying, as Ahnna had spent every waking minute either fighting to keep people alive or digging graves when she failed. It was only after Aren had been captured that Lara had roused herself to action. Why hadn’t she assassinated her father immediately? Why hadn’t she done something to try to stop the Maridrinians? To stop the war? Why had Aren been the only one who’d mattered?

“Drunk men talk, and I’ve been trained to listen, even when I’m deep in my own cups. It’s the queen of Harendell the people fear crossing, not the king.”

Ahnna shrugged. “I’ve no intention of stabbing them in the back, so I’m not particularly concerned.”

The queen of Ithicana’s jaw tightened, the first real crack Ahnna had seen in her composure, and though her bravado was feigned, Ahnna relished having landed a blow.

Lara’s voice was clipped as she said, “It’s that lack of concern that has Aren worried.”

“I was trained for this,” Ahnna retorted. “But more than that, I understand the stakes. The last thing I’ll do is willfully make things worse for the people I’ve spent my life protecting.”

The wind gusted, the only sound to break the silence between them as they stared each other down.

“Here,” Lara finally said, holding out one hand, a deeply familiar necklace of gold and gemstones hanging from her fingers. “Take it.”

Ahnna’s heart skipped, and she curbed the urge to snatch the necklace out of Lara’s hand, because it should never have been hers in the first place. “Aren gave it to you.”

“And I’m giving it to you.”

He’d be furious if she took it, but instead of declining, Ahnna asked, “Why?”

Lara hesitated, cheeks sucking in as though she were biting them while she considered her words. “A reminder of the stakes.”

Ahnna stared at the glints of gold and emerald and black diamond, a replica of Ithicana’s larger islands. Her father had given it to her mother, who’d almost never taken it off, and Ahnna had a thousand memories of it gleaming around her mother’s throat. A dull ache formed in her chest, her feelings about her parents always conflicted. “It’s just metal and rocks. Besides, when have you ever seen me wear jewelry?”

Lara held her hand over the cliff, the necklace swaying back and forth over empty air. “Then I suppose it doesn’t matter what I do with it?”

She opened her fingers, and the necklace dropped.

Gasping, Ahnna lunged, her knees scraping across rock as she snatched the falling necklace from the air and almost toppled over the edge from her momentum.

Her pulse thrummed, for though the necklace was safely clutched in her hand, she still felt the horror of almost losing it. Fury rose in her chest at Lara’s carelessness.

Rising to her feet, she started around the peak, needing to get away from the other woman before it came to blows. “You’re such a bitch.”

Lara followed her. “As are you. In another life, we probably would have been friends.”

Ahnna opened her mouth to retort, but then the scene in the harbor caught her attention. She shaded her eyes, her skin prickling. The vessel that had carried the cows had departed, and the naval ship, flying a purple flag to show that royalty was aboard, was approaching to take its place.

Approaching far too swiftly, because those who were supposed to be manning the sails were fighting one another on the deck.

“What is going on?” Lara muttered, shading her eyes.

Ahnna had already broken into a run.

Instinct guided her feet as she slid down the rocky trail, her eyes bypassing the Northwatch market for the piers jutting out from the island. The Harendellian vessel was flying toward pier one, no one aboard seeming to notice the waving arms of the port master warning them to slow down. The dockworkers around him were tense, their hands on their weapons.

Ahnna skidded to a stop, squinting at the ship as Lara drew up next to her and demanded, “What will happen if it hits the pier?”

Northwatch’s pier was made of bridge stone. The ship would be what suffered.

“Stay here until it’s safe!” Ahnna broke into a sprint down the switchbacking path, leaping off ledges where she could, the faint slap of sandals behind her suggesting that the very pregnant queen had ignored her order. Which was no fucking surprise.

Dread filled Ahnna’s stomach, flashes of the night she’d lost Southwatch to the Maridrinians filling her vision every time she blinked.

She couldn’t let that happen again.

“Sound the alarm!” Ahnna screamed, trying to catch the attention of those manning the nearest watch station. The wind stole the words, sending them flying over the seas. One of the sentinels appeared to be half asleep, the other one picking his fingernails. She was going to have their heads.

A rock whistled past her ear, Lara’s aim perfect, for it smashed against the wall next to the nail picker’s hand. He whirled, mouth dropping as he caught sight of both his princess and his queen sprinting toward him. “Call the alarm,” Ahnna shouted. “The Harendellian prince is in danger!”

The man only gaped at her. Snatching up his signal horn, she sucked in a deep breath and blew a series of notes.

Below, every Ithicanian fell still as they listened to the code. The second the last note faded, they all burst into action, their training taking hold.

“The Harendellian crew has mutinied.” Ahnna tossed the sentinel his horn. “Make sure the shipbreakers are manned.”

Then she was running again.

Lara was already ahead of her. The skirt of her gown was tucked into the mesh belt above her pregnant belly, revealing muscled legs that moved with shocking speed. Ahnna lengthened her stride, barely managing to catch up to her. “If a Harendellian royal is assassinated on our shores, there will be hell to pay. They’ll blame us.”

Lara nodded, then reached over her shoulder and withdrew a narrow blade that had been hidden beneath her gown, the metal glistening in the sun. They raced through the market, now close enough to see that the deck of the Harendellian ship was a melee. Harendellian soldiers were fighting the crew of their own ship for control, the decks covered with corpses and blood. Whether the crew had mutinied against the crown or been infiltrated, Ahnna couldn’t say, and it didn’t much matter given that the soldiers were cutting them down without mercy.

Yet her instincts screamed warning.

What was she missing?

The Harendellians had regained some control, and the sails dropped, the ship slowing.

But it was too little, too late.

The ship slammed against the heavy stone of the pier. Wood crunched, the impact knocking all aboard off their feet, the battle stopped in its tracks.

But only for a heartbeat.

Clambering upright, soldiers and crew threw themselves at each other again, blades and blood glinting in the sun.

What was going on?

Aren stood in the middle of the pier, weapon in hand, as he shouted orders. Behind him sat row after row of wine barrels that the Amaridians had delivered. Slowly, the lid on one of them rose, eyes peering out.

Oh God. This wasn’t a mutinied crew. This was an Amaridian attack.

Lara screamed, wild and desperate. “Aren! Behind you!”

Her brother’s eyes widened, and he started to turn.

But it was too late.