Renard scoffed again, attempting to look amused in the same way his brother always had—like everything was a joke—but it didn’t play right on his features.
“Taillefer lied to you, Amarande, and you lie to yourself, I see. What did he tell you on your journey to make you have a soft spot for the person who compelled you to murder me the first time?”
“The truth.”
The smile dropped and again Renard was right in front ofAmarande, crowding her space in a worse way than he had that day at the funeral when he’d attempted a public display of consolation and got his own sword pressed to his chest for his trouble. Those sharp and beautiful eyes of his bore into her, and she gave what she could right back to him—stubborn, defiant, strong, despite being backed against the hefty chair.
Amarande had spent a lifetime learning exactly how to stare down a threat. Andthiswas a threat in every way, from his forced proximity to the sneer in his eyes, to the truth of his life in the heat rolling off his naked chest, laying bare the pumping blood and pounding heart behind.
“The truth, Amarande,” Renard whispered, so close, too close, “is that I said my vows. You’re the one who didn’t keep them.”
That verbal hit knocked her breath away.
They had nearly completed the ceremony. Every last bit of it that would have tied them together and led to a coronation for them both.
One word, one ring, one kiss away from it all.
Renardhadsaid “I do.” Amarande never had. She’d heard the vow, gathered her courage and…
“No,” she insisted, now, as fiercely as she could, “I simply said I would rather die. I expected to die that day. A life for a life, that was my last wish.…”
His death. Her life.
Now his life. Her living hell.
Fingers trembling, Amarande slid out from between the chair and the King of Pyrenee, backing toward the exit.
Away from the heat and reality of Renard. Her first kill no more.
Renard did not chase her. Did not force her to stay. Did not even admonish her for leaving. Instead, he tilted his head, and savored Amarande’s retreat with the last word.
“Be careful with those wishes, Your Highness. Sometimes wishes come true but not as you hoped.”
CHAPTER 30
THEBasilican tents were arranged in a series of tight circles, with the extravagantly grand royal tent at the very center. Though Basilica had admonished Ardenia for bringing a large percentage of its vast army, the truth was that it’d brought at least half a regiment itself as an escort.
Ferdinand didn’t know if that was as protection, or provocation.
All he knew was that it was incredibly inconvenient for seeing Osana.
She’d been whisked away from the healers’ tent upon the arrival of the Basilican caravan. And kept from Ferdinand ever since.
Seeing her at the conclave had been a surprise both pleasant and infuriating—it was impossible for them to say barely anything at all to each other, let alone have a true conversation. Not with her father so close by.
Ferdinand entered Zavier’s camp and was immediately stopped by guards, sweating profusely after an entire day under the searing Torrentian sun while wrapped in the deep brown uniforms of the Basilican regiments.
“What is your business with Basilica, Your Highness?”
“I am here at the request of Princess Osana.”
The men shared a glance, and then the shorter of the two motioned to a third man, who stood within the next ring of protection. In a quick exchange of orders, the third soldier disappeared and within a few minutes’ time, King Zavier himself and a handful of personal guards surrounded Ferdinand.
Osana wasn’t with them.
The king greeted him with a smile that widened ever so slightly as Ferdinand scanned the faces for hers, only to come up empty. “My condolences on your birth mother, Ferdinand. I know you had most recently connected.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. It is a most terrible loss for me.” Thatwas an understatement, but that pain was currently as deep as it could go, and this was the very last man who would see it. If Zavier expected a reference to Koldo to rattle Ferdinand, the king would be sorely disappointed. “I do appreciate the gesture but I didn’t come for condolences.”
