With a final glare at my brother, my attention shifted to the approaching older man. His dark green robes, edged in black, billowed gracefully with each step. The crowds parted for him, easing his approach.
A steady presence crowded my back. Without looking, I knew it was Sainte. With him behind me, I noticed a surge of strength, as though I truly were a princess capable of handling whatever challenges this man threw at me.
“I am confident I speak for our entire kingdom when I say that I am pleased to find you’re alive, and… as well as could be expected.” The man’s light-brown eyes, the color of warm honey, darted to my sweat and grime-covered clothes.
“We were in quite the rush to get here,” I said, stumbling over my words in High Wynter.
“Not a day late,” Adastrus spoke up, lifting his chin and arching a brow at Sainte behind me, “to issue the challenge, that is.” His voice was lilting and lovely, if not for his haughty tone.
I shrugged, not knowing what to say.
As if sensing I needed help, the man watched me with wary eyes before turning to his sovereign. “Prince Regent—”
My brother’s sneer turned to utter annoyance as he leveled his glare at him.
“—Princess Elspeth has had quite the journey. Might I suggest she retire to her rooms? The whole of Wynterborne would celebrate her return, with you, asher brother, leading the festivities.” His voice flowed as smooth as oil, eyes fixed on Adastrus with a deferential tilt of his head.
He didn’t trust my brother, but I doubted I could trust him, either. Politicians were never anyone’s genuine friend.
“I think that would be best. She does appear as though she’s been dragged through a dungheap, no?”
“At the very least, Prince Regent.”
The crowd’s laughter was hesitant, tinged with uncertainty. I could hardly blame them. I just upended their political world, and now they didn’t know what to expect.
“Princess Elspeth, Anderz Dyre of the House of Meledis, at your service.” The older man dipped into a bow, then joined my side, offering his arm.
I glanced at Sainte, looking for assurance or a warning. He would identify who to trust, not I. His cool blue eyes flicked to meet mine, then to Adastrus.
No help there.
Anderz’s sharp gaze studied my face as if it held all my secrets. Swallowing past the nervous lump in my throat, I forced a smile before glancing at Sainte. It dawned on me that he wouldn’t join me if I didn’t speak up. With a hand on Anderz’s arm, I allowed him to lead me to the side.
A recruiter had no place with a princess.
I opened my mouth to say something—anything—to allow Sainte to accompany me, when Anderz spoke.
“Your Highness, I respectfully request that Captain Nytestorm join us. His firsthand knowledge of her journey would assist the healers in understanding her needs more effectively.”
“Like an erring bastard?”
I flinched as if I had been struck, and my lip curled in a snarl as I turned toward my brother.
A slender yet firm hand gripped mine in a bruising hold. I whipped my glare to meet Anderz’s eyes, but didn’t find shock or urgency there.
He was deathly calm.
“We simply must be sure she is in perfect health and able to present the challenge to our prince.” Those cunning honey irises studied my brother. “If Captain Nytestorm were to offer any information concerning her injuries on the journey, they would all be taken into consideration.”
“Go then,” Adastrus huffed in disgust, shifting his attention to the crowd with hungry anticipation. “But, Captain,” he glanced back at Sainte with a sneer, his expression filled with disdain, “I see you’ve brought no recruits. ‘Tis a pity.”
Panic rose in my chest and squeezed my throat as my brother grinned. His eyes were wide in a horrific kind of way.
He was evil.
There was nothing more to it, Adastrus was evil.
Another squeeze around my hand warned me not to interfere, and I bared my teeth in a hiss, spinning to Anderz. His unblinking gaze held mine, a silent warning.
