Page 10 of Warrior Princess Assassin (Braided Fate #1)

That flicker of challenge flares in the air between us, tugging at my heart, drawing at me in a way that’s new and untested.

I should turn away and find another task, the way a real servant would, but I can’t walk away from this now.

“I know you’re ruthless and cruel,” I say, and my cheeks grow warmer.

“I’ve heard about your brutality on the battlefield. ”

He regards me evenly. “Is our brutality not the exact reason your king seeks an alliance?”

My heart gives a little skip. The words are chilling—because it is why.

“Perhaps,” I say. “But apparently your cruelty is not confined to the battlefield.” My hands fidget with the blossoms, and a few petals fall. I lock my eyes on the arrangement in front of me, tugging at stems haphazardly. “Your king torments his own people, does he not?”

His fingers catch my wrist, making me break off in a gasp. It forces me to look up at him.

I’m somewhat shocked at the audacity, even for a soldier with a maid.

But despite the sudden motion, his grip is gentle and his fingers are warm.

This is nothing like the way Dane grabbed me last night, and it steals my ability to speak for a moment.

So do his eyes, which are brown with flecks of gold.

Kind eyes, I realize as I stare up at him, because his gaze isn’t flickering with anger, but instead something like regret.

He nods at the flower arrangement. “Thorns,” he says.

I follow his gaze, spotting the roses in the midst of the arrangement. Oh.

But then he leans closer. His hand is so warm against my skin. “Go on,” he says softly. “Tell me more about Incendar’s wicked king.”

I flush, flustered, and I realize he’s been holding on to my wrist for a good long while—and he has no right to touch me this way. I square my shoulders and twist free of his grip, then smack his hand away, hard .

His eyes flare wide. The dark-haired soldier beside him lets out a breath.

And then I discover everyone in the atrium is staring at us—including my brother, who’s just come down the stairs.

The soldier’s back is to him, but clearly a skirmish between an Incendrian soldier and a member of the palace staff is enough to earn my brother’s focus. Dane’s eyes light on my face, and all of a sudden, he looks like he’s swallowed his tongue. If it were any other moment, I might enjoy this.

Dane strides between maids and footmen who scurry to yield a path, and then he shoves past the soldiers without paying them a glance.

His face is like thunder, and he takes hold of my upper arm like he’s going to give me a good shake.

He’s so rough and so harsh, and it’s so completely contrary to the way the soldier just did it.

His fingers dig into my bicep, and I make a small sound before I can help it.

Dane’s eyes blaze into mine. “You will return to your quarters at once ,” he hisses under his breath. “You’re lucky you were only seen by—”

“Let her go.”

It’s the soldier with the dark blond hair and the velvet accent, but there’s nothing quiet about his tone now. He probably has no idea who my brother is , or he wouldn’t be ordering the crown prince to do anything at all.

Dane ignores him anyway. His fingers squeeze into my arm again, and I give another little squeak of pain.

“ Now ,” he growls at me. “And do not show your face until I—”

“Dane,” says the soldier. “Let her go .”

When the man uses my brother’s given name instead of his title, some of the servants gasp. I nearly gasp, because I don’t know anyone who’d dare.

Dane’s entire expression ices over, and he inhales sharply, likely preparing to excoriate the soldier for his insolence—or possibly to call for guards to have him dragged out of here.

But when he turns his head, my brother simply...freezes. His mouth works for a moment, no sound coming out.

“ Now ,” says the soldier. His expression has turned cold and hard, his voice full of promised violence if Dane doesn’t obey.

To my absolute shock, my brother does. His hand slips away from my arm, and his mouth clamps shut.

It leaves them glaring at each other, until I wonder if there’s any chance for an alliance, because these two men are going to start a war right here.

The silence in the room is thick enough to wade through, and it ticks on for a full minute.

The soldier with black hair tied back in a knot clears his throat. His expression is a fascinating combination of resignation and amusement.

“Your Highness,” he says to my brother, his tone dry.

He has a similar accent, but his voice is a little lower, a little rougher.

“As you may recall, I am Captain Sevin Zale, of the First Regiment of the Incendrian Army. Our herald has been detained, so I have the honor of presenting His Majesty, King Maddox Kyronan.”

I nearly yelp. I’m glad I had all the practice with the seamstress and her pins, because I’m able to keep perfectly still. I taste copper, and I realize I’ve bitten my tongue. I need to slow down my breathing or I’m not going to be able to hear anything else.

But I have no idea how to proceed. This is the king? I’m not supposed to meet him until later, and definitely not like...like this . Will he remember me, or will this interaction be forgotten?

I lock my eyes on the floor, so all I see are their boots.

First my brother’s, polished and shining without a buckle out of place.

Then the soldiers’—well, the king’s and the captain’s—which are full of scuffs and scrapes and mismatched stitching where they’ve been repaired.

Much like the rest of their armor, really.

I never would have taken either of these men for royalty.

“Your Majesty,” my brother is saying. He must have recovered from his shock, because any harshness has been erased from his tone. “Forgive me. We did not realize you would be traveling ahead of your party. Welcome to—”

“Enough.” The king says this like he’s had his fill of my brother’s nonsense—and it’s shocking.

No one talks to Dane like that. I want to look up, to see what expression is on this man’s face, but I don’t dare.

I’m desperately hoping he wasn’t looking at me too closely before.

Because as cruel as my brother has been right now, he’ll be worse later in the privacy of my chambers.

The king’s fingers catch my wrist again, just as gentle as before. “Did he hurt you?”

I snap my gaze up. Those golden eyes hold mine.

He’s definitely going to remember.

“Of course I didn’t hurt her,” Dane says immediately.

But the king doesn’t look away from me. “I’m asking her.”

There’s a note in his voice that nearly makes my breath catch, and I can feel the strength hiding behind the softness of his grip.

This is the man who sets armies on fire and cuts them into pieces?

The man who starves his people? The man who’s rumored to burn men to ash with nothing more than a touch?

And then I realize that his hand is touching my bare skin, and just like before, his fingers are warm despite the chill in the air.

A shiver rolls through me, and I draw back.

I watch the movement register in his eyes, and he frowns. “Forgive me.” His hand drops. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You took me by surprise.” My heart keeps skipping along, but I square my shoulders again, the way I did before I knew who he was. “I’m not afraid of you.”

I sound bolder than I feel, and the king’s eyebrows go up. “You didn’t answer my question,” he says. He glances at my brother. “Are you afraid of your employer?”

Dane is staring daggers at me, and I know he wants me to excuse myself and flee, in some vain hope that the king will meet me later and have no recollection of this moment.

For Dane, maybe that would be possible. My brother barely pays attention to anyone below his station.

It’s the only reason he didn’t recognize Maddox Kyronan before grabbing hold of my arm to shoo me back to my chambers.

But as I look into his golden eyes, I know the king won’t forget. There’s no sense in trying to hide my identity any longer. Besides, I rather like that he slipped in here without anyone recognizing him.

The same way I did, really.

It’s the biggest surprise of all, especially when I didn’t expect to like anything about him. I almost offer him a smile, as if we’re co-conspirators, trapped by this arrangement.

But I think of those warm fingers that touched my arm, surely a sign of the power he wields. I think of all the rumors that preceded his arrival. I think of the magic that Dane desperately wants. The talent to call fire that can kill thousands on the battlefield.

Is our brutality not the exact reason your king seeks an alliance?

My smile stops before it can form. I won’t allow myself to be fooled by a gentle voice and kind eyes. I felt the strength in his grip. I see the power in his frame.

But I can go into this alliance on equal footing.

I take hold of the maid skirts and drop into a curtsy. “Your Majesty, it is an honor to finally meet you. I am Princess Marjoriana.”

The king goes absolutely still. Shock washes through his eyes before his expression locks down, closing off. He’s frozen in place, and he says nothing.

Wind whispers along the main doors, and someone nearby gives a little cough, but the king doesn’t move. The silence stretches on for so long that I begin to feel a bit foolish.

And then I realize that we’re not co-conspirators at all—not really.

Maddox Kyronan showed up to secure an alliance between nations, while I snuck into the atrium dressed as a maid—as a spy , just as he said.

He might not have announced himself to me, but it’s not like he showed up in rags and hid his identity.

And then I practically accused him of lacking integrity and tormenting his people.

Heat floods my cheeks. I’m suddenly terrified he’s going to say something that will humiliate me as effectively as my brother.

But he doesn’t. His rich golden eyes simply blaze into mine, and I can’t read anything in them.

Captain Zale is the one to finally speak. The man claps his king on the shoulder in a casual gesture I’ve never seen anyone use with my brother— or my father.

“There you go,” he says. “I told you I’d have a good story later.” He looks past us all and finds a footman along the wall. “Rumor says you have good whiskey here. Which one of you can bring us some?”

That breaks the king’s silence. He snaps his head around to look at his captain, and his expression is aggrieved. “It’s barely dawn, Sev.”

“Well, I’ve been up all night, and there’s apparently no heat in this country.” Captain Zale nods at the footman who’s stepped forward. “That means we’re going to need twice as much.”