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He had to tell Ahnna the truth.

Needed to tell her about the agreement with Cardiff before she married William so that she could make a decision of whether to wed into the family that had stabbed her in the back or return to Ithicana. His father might be willing to trick her into nuptials, but he’d not force her to say them. At least, James didn’t think he’d stoop to that level.

Rounding the corridor, he reached the door to Ahnna’s room, which had two of Georgie’s soldiers before it. “I need to speak to her.”

“His Grace’s orders are that the princess remain in her room, sir,” one of them answered.

James’s jaw tightened with anger at the reminder that Ahnna had been effectively locked in a cage. “I’m only here to speak to her.”

Elbowing one of the men aside, he knocked. “Ahnna?”

No one answered, so he knocked harder. “Ahnna?”

Still no answer. Both guards were frowning, and after extracting a key, one of them unlocked the door and opened it.

The room was empty, and on the far side, the door to the bedroom that had once belonged to Taryn was open wide.

Ahnna was gone.

“She was here,” one of the guards said. “Hazel brought her a tray of food…” He trailed off as he saw the untouched meal on the table.

Which meant Ahnna had either convinced the maid to let her out the other door, or forced Hazel to help her. But where had she gone?

And what did she intend to do?

“I’ll handle this,” he muttered. “You two check the battlements to see if she went up for air. She does not care to be confined.”

James twisted on his heel, heading in the direction of the ballroom, the music from the orchestra and the laughter of guests already filling the air.

The Sky Palace ballroom was full to the brim with nobility, everyone within riding distance having dropped everything to be here for the mysterious announcement. Men and women dressed in their finest swirled around the room. Others stood with glasses of sparkling wine in their hands, plucking delicacies from the trays held by liveried servants. The conservatory’s orchestra was playing enthusiastically, dance cards rapidly filling, but James ignored all the coy smiles sent in his direction as he searched for any sign of Ahnna. She wasn’t here either.

“I see you dressed for the occasion,” George said, appearing at James’s elbow. “My God, man, you stink like horse.”

“I’ve been busy,” he said. “Where is William? Off somewhere getting drunk?”

Georgie shrugged, then took a glass of wine from a passing servant and drained it. “I saw him this morning, and he looked pleased as punch but very sober. Do you know what this is all about?”

“This is all my father’s doing.”

His friend was silent for a long moment, then he said, “The gossip over this surprise event, which obviously wasn’t orchestrated by Alexandra, has rumors flying. You would not believe the speculations I’ve heard.”

James only grunted a response, every part of him praying that Ahnna had taken her forced confinement as a reason to run. That she was already out of the Sky Palace. That she’d taken Dippy and run as far and fast from Harendell as she could. Somewhere she would be free from people trying to use her to their benefit.

“I asked Ginny if she knew what was going on, but even she is entirely in the dark. Seems the same for you, Jamie, if I’m being honest. If I were a betting man, which I am, I’d wager that Will is the only one in the know, which is a first for him.”

James hardly heard Georgie’s words, but his thoughts were interrupted by the herald bellowing, “Her Most Royal Majesty, Queen Alexandra of Harendell.”

James turned his head to watch Alexandra enter. She was dressed in an elaborate gown with enough jewels to buy a kingdom, but her hair was pulled into a simple twist, speaking to the speed with which she’d gotten ready. She gave James a half smile as she passed, heading to where his father was arguing with Ginny. Their conversation broke off as the queen reached them.

Nearby, Elizabeth said rather loudly, “Are simple hairstyles to be the new fashion, then?”

Speculation over the queen’s hair broke out among the ladies, and George said softly, “You don’t suppose that your father didn’t plan for Alexandra to be here tonight, do you?”

James supposed exactly that, and the fact that Alexandra had the wherewithal to return to Verwyrd just in time made him wonder what else she knew.

Murmurs filled the air, then the herald bellowed, “Her Most Royal Highness, Princess Ahnna of Ithicana, beloved sister to His Royal Majesty, King Aren of Ithicana, the Master of the Bridge.”

At the herald’s words, his father’s gaze snapped to the end of the ballroom, dismay written across his face. James slowly turned, rendered speechless by the sight of her. As was, judging from the silence in the ballroom, everyone else.

Ahnna wore a gown made of leather such a dark green that it was nearly black. It was high-necked, the garment encircling her throat like a choker, her shoulders and arms entirely bare. The thin leather clung to her torso until it reached her hips, where it spread out in a full skirt, the tips of black boots peeking out with each of her long strides. Her hair was woven into a severe coronet of braids, on which she wore a crown. Not a tiara, but an actual crown of gold, emeralds, and black diamonds, earrings of the same reaching almost to her naked shoulders. Her eyes were rimmed with black, cheekbones shaded in a way that made them look sharp enough to cut as she walked past James, not giving him a sideways glance.

Only carried on toward his father, allowing James full view of her back. While the front of her gown spit in the face of fashion, which favored a tremendous amount of visible cleavage, Ahnna’s back was entirely naked, the dress plunging down until just above her curved ass, the fabric twisted in such a way that the skirt flowing to her feet looked like a midnight river. A chain of jewels set in an asymmetrical pattern hung down her spine, swaying as she walked.

“Ithicana shows her true colors,” Georgie murmured, but James was already following Ahnna, drawn to her like iron to a lodestone. Ahead of him, she dropped into a perfect curtsy.

“Your Majesties,” she said.

His father had regained his composure and swiftly reached to take her hand, giving her a wide smile that made James want to scream, because it was so entirely false. “Ahnna, you are the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Instead of commenting on the fact that she was not supposed to be here by virtue of having been locked in her room, all Ahnna said was, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Alexandra stepped forward to kiss both of Ahnna’s cheeks. “You are perfection. Ithicana incarnate.”

His father’s jaw tightened, understanding as readily as James did that Alexandra was the reason Ahnna was in attendance.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Ahnna said. “You are kind to say so.”

“Music!” Alexandra called to the orchestra. “I want to see my guests dancing.”

They lifted their instruments, the nobility obediently moving onto the floor in pairs.

“You might have taken the time for a bath, Jamie,” his father said, looking him up and down. “And dressed for the occasion. This is a night for celebration, yet you look as though you have been to war. Why don’t you remedy that.”

“I’m fine as is, thank you.” James suspected his father knew exactly what he intended to do.

“It wasn’t a suggestion.”

“Edward, let him be,” Alexandra said, examining a ring on her finger. “There’s not a person here who isn’t aware that our Jamie is more soldier than prince, so they’ll be forgiving of the clothing.” She gave James a smile he couldn’t read. “And amused by the smell.”

An unlikely ally, and James knew that Alexandra was only siding with him because his father was the target of her ire tonight. Judging from the tenseness of his father’s jaw, he knew it, too. He hadn’t wanted her in Verwyrd for this moment, and yet here Alexandra was.

Here Ahnna was.

Taking the opportunity, James rounded on Ahnna, who was more fiercely exquisite than he’d ever seen her, and held out his hand. “A dance, my lady?”

She stared at him for a heartbeat, face fixed in the way of someone hiding their emotions, but then she inclined her head. “I would love to.”

A jolt surged through him as she took his hand, allowing him to lead her out to where the dancers were gathering, the first strings of a waltz beginning to play. Turning toward her, James rested his hand on her back, no part of him not reacting to the feel of her bare skin beneath his palm. Ahnna rested her other hand on his shoulder, her gaze on his chest. Which was just as well, because with guilt threatening to drown him, he couldn’t meet her eye.

As the other dancers began to move, he led her into the steps, guiding her around and around the dance floor. Part of him wanted to extend the moment, but he forced himself to say, “I shouldn’t…we shouldn’t have done what we did.”

Ahnna didn’t answer, her eyes fixed on the buttons of his coat. “Why? Because I’m to marry your brother? Or because you’re a lying prick who has been planning to stab me in the back the entire time you’ve known me?”

She knew.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. James had thought that admitting the truth to her would be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do, but having her discover another way was proving to be far, far worse. “Both.”

Her lip quivered. “Not going to defend your actions?”

“I cannot,” he answered. “Any claim I had to honor is gone. There is no defense.”

“I should hate you,” Ahnna whispered. “But I know you were driven to defend your mother’s people. That you wanted to end the persecution. The burnings. That your motivations were good, if not your goddamned consideration of the consequences. Or perhaps you considered them and just decided you didn’t care about Ithicanian suffering. We are not people, just greedy monsters in masks who sit upon thrones of gold.”

She was not far off the mark. “There may be a happy medium, Ahnna. Something that achieves both ends. That makes all three nations happy.”

“I highly doubt that,” Ahnna hissed, “as it is clear to me that Harendell thinks only of itself.”

“You don’t need to marry my brother,” he said. “You can leave now. It is against my father’s own laws to make you wed anyone you do not accept. Leave, Ahnna. Go back to Ithicana. Go back to your family and be happy.”

Her lip curled. “As though my happiness matters. You only wish for me to leave because you know that your father will not live forever. Because you know that if I am William’s queen, I’ll have the power to undo all of this. All it will take is one nasty tax on trade into Cardiff, and you know exactly what your greedy countrymen will choose to do, don’t you, James?”

“You are not that cruel,” he said. “You’ll not invite that kind of horror back on innocent people.”

“You don’t know me half as well as you think,” she replied. “To defend my people, there is nothing I won’t do.”

A commotion at the rear of the ballroom stole away his ability to respond, the orchestra quieting and the dancers falling still as all eyes fixed on the panting and filthy messenger now speaking to his father. There were grim nods, then his father said loudly, “Dire news, my friends. Word has come that Amarid has crossed the border into the Lowlands in numbers not seen in a generation, their first bid in an attempt to reclaim the land. Our garrisons have called for aid. Long have we danced with war, my friends, but today, war has come to Harendell.”

A dozen women screamed, at least two swooning into their companions’ arms, but more stood with their shoulders squared and jaws tight as they waited, sensing there was more to come. Next to him, Ahnna seethed tension.

“But we do not face it alone,” his father continued. “For we have a formidable ally at our side—one capable of not only helping us drive the Amaridians off our lands but of helping us enact justice for a crime that is long overdue.”

James drew in a deep breath.

“Twenty-six years ago,” his father said, moving to stand on the dais so that all might hear, “the mother of my firstborn son was murdered in cold blood. There has been much speculation over the years as to who murdered her, blame cast”—he glanced at Alexandra, whose expression was unreadable—“but I reveal to you today that Siobhan was poisoned by the assassins of Queen Katarina of Amarid.”

There were a few surprised gasps, but James knew that most were waiting for the real shoe to drop. An explanation for why they were discussing the death of a woman they’d all presumed to be a commoner when Harendell stood on the brink of war.

“Why, I’m sure you are all wondering, did Katarina condescend to murdering a Cardiffian maidservant?” his father said. “The answer is that Siobhan was no commoner, no maidservant. She was sister to King Ronan Crehan of Cardiff.”

More gasps erupted, dozens of eyes going to James, but he kept his expression still even though one set of those eyes belonged to Ahnna. Yet another piece of information he’d kept from her.

Yet another lie.

“Yet that still might seem paltry motivation, for Amarid has no quarrel with Cardiff, and to assassinate a foreign princess in the confines of the Sky Palace invites severe retaliation. Only the greatest of motivations would be worth such a risk. What, you are all wondering, did Katarina know that all of you did not?” He waited, scanning the room until the tension reached a fever pitch, then said, “The answer to that question is that Siobhan and I were working together to create a true and lasting alliance between Harendell and Cardiff. A friendship that would see our trade flow north instead of south, that would see Harendellians reap the profits from the sales of their goods rather than bleed money in tolls and taxes.”

God, but his father was the consummate politician, giving these people information that was sure to spark outrage but then chasing it with that which ruled their hearts: profit. For there wasn’t a man or woman in this room who wouldn’t turn a blind eye to just about anything, including astromancy, if doing so made them richer. Yet for all this had been his fucking plan, James felt no elation at watching it unfold, because the ends were not his dream.

They were his nightmare.

“This alliance was Siobhan’s dream,” his father continued, “a dream that turned to a nightmare when Katarina discovered it, the Amaridian bitch slipping poison into the cup of the greatest woman I’ve had the privilege of knowing in order to destroy an alliance that would make Amarid quake at the knees.”

Beyond, Alexandra’s mouth twisted, but his father only pressed onward.

“For a time, Katarina succeeded, her foul propaganda mongers slandering Alexandra as the culprit in order to sow dissent with the Cardiffians. But the truth always comes out, my friends, and King Ronan is as eager for revenge against Katarina and Amarid as I am. Which is why he and I have signed a treaty of alliance, his army moving to join ours as we speak. Amarid will bleed for its actions, but none more so than the woman on the throne!”

Such was the power of his oration that the ballroom exploded into cheers and demands for revenge for the murder of a woman that, until moments ago, they’d only ever disparaged. His father’s expression was one of vicious delight, but all James felt was hollow. Because he did not believe that this was what his mother had wanted. For her name and legacy to be that of violence, when all she’d ever wanted was peace.

Ahnna was silent, but her skin was blanched.

His father held up a hand, calling for silence. “And none of this would have been possible without the tireless efforts of James, my firstborn and the son that I shared with Siobhan. It is because of James that this alliance has been achieved, and I ask that all of you lift your glasses in his name. Huzzah!”