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It took the rest of the night to cross the Ranges, but now James was moving at speed up the highway to Whitewood Hall, his thoughts no clearer than they’d been when he’d set out because none of the pieces quite fit together.

The Amaridians were trying to kill him—that could not be denied—and James was certain now that it was because Katarina knew he was at the center of negotiations between Cardiff and Harendell. United, the two nations would be a force far greater than Amarid, so it made sense that Katarina would desire to destroy or delay the negotiations from coming to fruition.

And yet the hardhanded tactic was out of character for Amarid’s queen, especially given that it was ill considered.

Assassinating him wouldn’t be grounds for an end of the negotiations. If anything, it would only drive his father and uncle together in the united purpose of revenge against Amarid, and Katarina had to know that. Which meant her motivations had to be more complicated.

James rubbed at his temple, his head pounding, yet he forced himself to turn his mind to the reason he was galloping in pursuit of his father.

His goal had never ever been to destroy Harendell’s relationship with Ithicana, but James had been so focused on setting things right with Cardiff, on stopping the burnings, that he’d been blind to the ramifications of cutting the bridge usage by half or more.

Willfully blind, if he was being honest. Because it had been easy to put Cardiff ahead of Ithicana until he’d met her. Ahnna had forced him to see the faces behind the nation he’d callously disregarded, and shame burned in his chest that he’d been so narrow-sighted in his ambitions.

Ahnna’s confession of the dire straits of Ithicana made him feel compelled to take a step back. To find a moderate strategy that would see the borders with Cardiff opened without stripping Ithicana of the trade they needed to survive. To find a path forward without consequence.

Except he suspected no such path existed.

A small amount of revenue wouldn’t be enough to compel Harendellian merchants to set aside old biases and hatred: It had to be wealth that they couldn’t dream of achieving any other way. If the border was opened with no taxes, they’d all take their business north and forsake Ithicana’s expensive bridge without a second thought. There was no possibility of a small drip when the floodgate was opened. That had been the crux of his plan all along, and he’d paid little mind to Ithicana.

Until her.

James closed his eyes, his mind filling with Ahnna’s face. So wildly fierce and dangerous, yet possessed of a heart made vulnerable by her commitment to her people. Never in his life had a woman consumed him like she did, made him feel the way she did. Yet not only was there no future between them, but Ahnna would hate him when she learned that his life’s work had the potential to achieve what Silas’s violence had failed to accomplish: the destruction of the Bridge Kingdom.

Beneath him, Georgie’s horse snorted, and James’s eyes snapped up to see a caravan on the road ahead, royal banners flapping in the wind. Relief flooded him, because by some stroke of fortune, his father was already returning to Verwyrd.

Digging in his heels, he urged the exhausted horse for speed, the soldiers parting ranks as he was recognized, the royal carriage drawing to a halt. Dismounting next to it, he handed off his reins and opened the door. “Father—”

He broke off, because his father wasn’t in the carriage, only Alexandra. She set the knitting needles she held down on her lap. “James. This is a surprise.”

“Your Grace.” He inclined his head. “Apologies for the intrusion. I have urgent need to speak with the king.”

“Edward has ridden ahead to Verwyrd,” she said. To his shock, she added, “Travel with me, James. It has been an age since we talked, you and I.”

His skin crawled with trepidation, because no good ever came from conversations with Alexandra. Yet there was no declining the request of the queen, so he climbed inside. The carriage rocked from side to side as it began moving again.

“Tell me of this urgent need you have of Edward,” she said, picking up her knitting, the needles making little clicking noises as she worked. “You look as though you’ve been dragged through a pasture by your own horse, so I expect it is nothing good.”

“Caught in a storm on the Ranges,” he said. “A significant number of cattle were lost.”

“You didn’t gallop through the night to tell Edward about dead cows,” Alexandra said, eyes not moving from her work. “Try again.”

James didn’t answer.

The trouble with lying to Alexandra was that she always knew more than she reasonably should, and the consequences of being caught in a lie by her were unfailingly painful. “It’s for my father’s ears, Your Grace.”

She made a soft humming noise, then began another row of stitches, fingers moving swiftly. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with Ahnna Kertell?”

The muscles in his jaw clenched, because of course she knew. Alexandra always knew.

“She’s why Edward returned to Verwyrd,” Alexandra said. “We have come to believe that there is a great deal of conflict between the Kertell twins, and that perhaps Ahnna does not have the influence over Aren that we had hoped.”

“Does this information come via Virginia?” James asked flatly.

“It comes from many places. The Ithicanians are not as secretive as they once were, and our spies posing as merchants have learned of the bad blood between Ahnna and Lara, which has caused a rift between Ahnna and her brother. He sides with his wife in all things, and it has caused tremendous conflict. The rumors sway two directions: The first being that Aren sent Ahnna to us to get rid of her and the second that Ahnna abandoned Ithicana because she could not stand to watch her brother simper to the Maridrinian woman who nearly destroyed Ithicana. Edward seems inclined to believe the latter, for he is convinced that Ahnna is the people’s princess.”

“She is the people’s princess,” James hedged. “But the conflict between her and Aren has been overstated. Likewise the extent of her animosity toward Lara.”

Alexandra tilted her head. “She told you this?”

“Yes.” To give more detail felt like he’d be betraying Ahnna’s confidence.

“Interesting.” Alexandra pursed her lips. “And yet it is in direct conflict with every other source, including her own cousin Taryn, and Lara’s sister Bronwyn. Hate, I believe, is the word most often used to describe Ahnna’s sentiment toward her sister-in-law. Ahnna holds Lara entirely to blame for the hurt inflicted upon Ithicana.”

“That they believe so doesn’t make it the truth.”

“That Ahnna told you otherwise doesn’t make it the truth.” Alexandra gave him a small smile. “That’s the game, isn’t it, James? To puzzle through reams of gossip and speculation, all of which seems in direct contradiction, to find the truth. And once one has it, to know what to do with it.”

“I know that Ahnna harbors no ill will toward her brother,” he countered. “Nor he to her.”

“He did not even grace her with a goodbye when she departed Northwatch,” Alexandra said, starting yet another row of stitches. “Sent her with a laughable escort, put gross restrictions on her spending, and has sent no communication beyond an announcement of his daughter’s birth. Would you treat Virginia so, Jamie?” Not giving him a chance to answer, she added, “Unless it is an act, it seems that Aren wants nothing to do with his sister. If it is not an act, I worry of what greater plans might be afoot.”

Why would Aren pretend to quarrel with his sister? James silently wondered even as he asked aloud, “What does my father intend to do?”

“He is quite taken with Ahnna, so he’s furious at how he perceives Aren has treated her. He was fit to be tied when he rode out, if I am being honest. Cursing and carrying on.” Alexandra sighed. “And you know how Edward reacts when he’s angry. Digs in his heels. All the worse when he’s in his cups. He did not share his precise plans before he went galloping out the gates of Whitewood Hall, but I anticipate we’ll discover them when we arrive in Verwyrd.”

Trepidation filled James’s chest, because if his father’s ambivalence toward Aren had turned to dislike, there would be no chance that he’d risk the negotiations with Cardiff to protect Aren’s interests. Yet all he said was, “I’ve never known you to be content with waiting for information, Your Grace. What do you predict he will do?”

“I expect that we’ll see a wedding very soon. Edward is the most powerful man in the known world, James, and he will have his way.”

It hurt to breathe, because his mind kept trying to forget that it was William whom Ahnna would marry. “You are content with that? For William to marry Ahnna even if she brings no power over Ithicana’s ruler?”

Alexandra did not answer. And experience had taught James not to press.

Silence stretched. For minutes. Then an hour, James’s stomach twisting into tighter and tighter knots with each passing mile they drew closer to Verwyrd.

As the carriage rolled into the gate town, wheels rattling over cobbles, Alexandra’s hands finally stilled. “I know you and I have not been friends, Jamie. That for all we share the name of Ashford, we are not family. But I don’t think you have any doubt in your heart that everything I do is for the benefit of William and Virginia.”

“Of that I have no doubt.” His mouth was dry, his voice hoarse.

“William needs a strong woman as his queen,” she said. “And while Ahnna is not the sort of woman I would choose for him, I do think she is the key to the bridge. She’s far more valuable than anyone gives her credit for.”

“How so?”

Alexandra gave a small shrug, leaning against the window, eyes fixed on the Sky Palace. “That, James, is a question you need to pose to your father.”