Page 8 of Warrior Princess Assassin (Braided Fate #1)

The battle was recorded as my first victory as king. Sev has fought beside me ever since. Now that he’s an army captain himself, he has no shortage of women to woo and charm. I feel like I hear about a different one every week.

I’m surprised I’m not hearing about one now .

“ You could ride in one of the carriages,” I say to him. “I’m sure ‘the king’ would like some company.”

He gives me a look. “At least we know why there’s a complete and total lack of firelight in this kingdom. They don’t trust you.”

I snort, then bite the fingertips of the glove on my right hand to tug it free. I gave my word, but now I’m curious, so I sketch a sigil in the air. Normally, it would pull any fire within a mile right to my hand.

Tonight, the sigil barely emits a faint glow before going dark.

Sev shakes his head. “Do these Astranzans think we don’t have flint?” he scoffs. “We can start our own fire if we need to.”

“No.” I pull my glove back on and glance out across the dark horizon again. “It would make a beacon out of the whole procession. If they hate me this much, I’d have an arrow in my back in under two minutes.”

“Eh. Five minutes. Like you said, they’d go for the carriages first.”

That almost makes me smile.

“Do you really expect an attack?” he says. “I thought that man was going to faint when he saw the crest on Garrett’s armor.”

I frown. The man seemed so relieved when we rode away. It makes me wonder what stories they tell about me here.

Then again, the stories they tell in Incendar are becoming just as bad.

Sev glances my way again, because I haven’t answered his question. Maybe that’s answer enough.

His eyes return to the landscape, and he blows out a breath through his teeth. “For all this drama, I sure hope the girl is beautiful.”

He’s baiting me, but I shrug. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what she looks like.

But Sev presses. “You aren’t the least bit curious?”

“No.”

“You must have some idea.”

“No.”

“You’re going to ask her to marry you! Not even a portrait —”

“Bleeding skies, Sev! I negotiated from the battlefield! You were right there half the time. I haven’t seen her.”

That shocks him into silence. But it shouldn’t.

This is a political alliance, nothing more.

The proposal is a formality. A marriage to unite our kingdoms and reassure the people of Incendar before another spring drought leaves more crops barren and more people hungry.

I can protect Astranza’s soldiers in the war if King Theodore’s magic can make sure my own don’t starve.

I’ve already heard reports of cellars and food stores running empty, and while we don’t have these heavy snows, we have another month of winter left at least.

My advisers have also begun to report that rumors have turned darker in nature, too. People have begun to speculate that my fire magic is somehow causing the droughts.

It’s not, but I won’t deny it. The truth is worse.

My friend is still watching me. “So you don’t care at all ?”

I keep my eyes on the frozen landscape and shake my head.

Any girl who clings to the comforts of her palace in the midst of a war is probably spoiled and lazy—and likely downright conceited, if her eldest brother’s attitude is anything to go by.

Princess Marjoriana didn’t appear for any of our negotiation meetings, and that says a lot about her opinion of Incendar.

At least Prince Dane is familiar with a battlefield—though it didn’t take me long to figure out that he’s the type to sit safely in a tent and give orders from a distance.

My own father was always right in the thick of battle, so it’s never occurred to me to lead any differently.

On the day I first met the crown prince of Astranza, I answered his summons fresh from a skirmish on the border, with blood on my knuckles and dirt clinging to my armor.

Astranza’s forces had been involved as well, but Dane looked like he hadn’t seen a drop of bloodshed in his life.

When I found him in his tent, he was sitting bored in a chair, without so much as a scuff on his polished boots.

Before I could say a word, he looked down his nose at me, contempt plain on his face.

“You there. Tell your king I am ready to receive him now.”

It’s a miracle we ever came to terms.

Honestly, it’s a miracle I didn’t shove him up against a tent post and remind him why they sought Incendar for an alliance at all .

But this is why I don’t care what the princess looks like. I remember the arrogance and disdain on her brother’s face, and I end up imagining how it will manifest in her own.

Fine. She can hate me if she likes. I’ve long known that marriage would be a matter of political convenience—if not outright strategy—so I learned to guard my heart.

As long as she stays away from my sister, she can do whatever she wants.

I’ll give the princess a corner of the palace where she can complain to the stars.

But every time I have that thought, I hate the tiny part of me that flickers with hope, that maybe she won’t be horrible and scornful. That maybe this union could lead to something more than political scheming.

That maybe there’s a part of her that wants this alliance to work as badly as I do.

When that flicker appears, I stamp it out, like smothering a fire before it can wreak havoc. I’ll offer hope to my people, but it’s dangerous to allow it to take root in myself.

I grit my teeth. “It doesn’t matter. I’m rarely in the palace. As long as she leaves Victoria alone, I don’t care what she’s like.”

Sev smiles. He can always see right through me. “You care a little .”

I don’t smile back. I can’t afford to care. We both know what’s at stake.

Maybe it’s better if she’s spoiled and selfish and wants nothing to do with me. It’s not as if I’d be any kind of husband. My life is on the battlefield. Not the bedchamber.

When I don’t answer, the smile slips off his face, and Sev falls silent again.

The only sounds are the creaking of saddle leather and the swish of hooves through slush and snow.

My soldiers aren’t bickering now, but I’m not sure their silence is better.

They’re likely as cold and irritated as I am, and it’s never wise to have unhappy men at your back.

In the distance, farmhouses and other structures are barely visible in the moonlight, but the first threads of sunlight appear on the horizon.

I look out across the snow, wondering about that man, the way he said the people had been ordered to douse every flame.

Not a single candle twinkles in a window.

Was that a spot of movement, though? I automatically pull a glove free.

But there’s no fire here. Magic won’t help us. I shorten my reins a few inches in case we need to bolt.

Sev follows my gaze. “I told you we should have brought the entire First Regiment.”

There’s a part of me that wants to go back and get the whole army. “I don’t want to show up looking ready to wage war. It’s supposed to be a wedding proposal.”

He glances my way and gives me a once-over. “Oh, so that’s why you’re back here with a dozen weapons strapped to your armor. You’re prepared to be romantic .”

“Forget what I said. I liked it better when you were quiet.”

He laughs.

But then a shadow flickers across the snow somewhere in the distance, and his laughter cuts short. He has a bow tethered behind his saddle, but he unstraps it now. Mine is already in hand.

Whatever moved has disappeared—or gone still—and we see nothing further. I don’t put away my bow, though.

Sev doesn’t either.

I wonder again about traps. Was something planted in the snow? Could that man have been sent out to delay us?

I shake off the questions. We’re not at war. This is a journey toward peace.

It still doesn’t feel like it. “How much farther, do you think?” I say, keeping my voice low.

“To Perriden? Less than five miles, I’d say. But at this pace it’ll take another hour.” He glances at the hint of sunlight along the horizon. “How serious do you think they were about you showing up at dawn?”

Very serious, and knowing Prince Dane, he’ll take any delay as the highest of insults. We’ll spend an hour trading barbs about it, and then he’ll threaten to unravel the entire alliance unless I yield something else .

But another hour feels interminable, especially with threats hiding in the darkness and men at my back who are already freezing and frustrated.

No one has complained, but they’re my best soldiers. They won’t.

I sigh and consider the horses, the snow, the way we’re sitting ducks out here in the darkness—and how very deliberate that is.

Then I consider the way Prince Dane didn’t even realize who I was on the day we met, how they’re surely expecting the king to arrive in style, with a full retinue of servants and courtiers and guards, despite everything he knows about me.

Maybe it’s better if they think we’re late—without me being late at all.

I draw my horse out of the line and ride parallel to the others. “Nikko,” I say to the soldier behind Sev. “Hold the line.” I nod at the carriages. “Keep protecting the ‘king.’ Sev and I will ride ahead.”

Nikko gives me a nod, but Sev looks at me like I’m insane.

“They’ll think we’re heralds,” he says. “Or outriders. You’re the king , Ky.”

I roll my eyes and tether my bow. “I know who I am. But they won’t. This will give us a few minutes to determine whether Prince Dane is genuine—or if this is a trap.”

He still balks. “A trap ? Then you stay. I’ll take Roman and—”

“Are you coming or not?” I say. Sunlight begins to crawl over the horizon, so I don’t wait for an answer; I just touch my heels to my horse’s sides.

If this is a trap, I don’t need Astranza’s fire to protect my people. I can start my own.