Page 108 of Bride of Ash & Dust

“I heard the princess arrived with a guard,” she says.

It’s not exactly a question, so I don’t bother to answer. Silence stretches between us. Finally, Anura huffs.

“Did you know?” she asks.

“That King Malrik planned to sacrifice me so he could get his hands on a magic weapon?” I reply. “No, I did not.”

In the murky half-light, I can’t see if her expression changes. But I hear her breath catch, and a moment later her dress rustles.

“Did you know about the attack on Prince Elrick?” she asks, after a moment’s silence.

“No,” I admit. “I believed we were going on a Unity Tour. Fool that I am.”

She doesn’t reply. Prince Syvan’s sneering voice comes back to me, stretching up from the Howling Plains of the Dead. It worked better than I thought it would, he said. Distracting you with a woman.

Gods, what an idiot I’ve been. How much of this plan to attack Marion did I miss because I was too busy staring at my wife’s glorious tits?

Wife. I feel like I’ve just swallowed a stone. Princess Lilias married the prince of Dungal, not the son of the royal gardener. Our marriage isn’t even legitimate. I wince at the stab of pain from my ribs. Anura’s dress rustles again.

“I have no reason to trust you,” she says.

“No one ever does,” I reply.

She shifts in the dark, like she’s moving away from me. Her shoes click on the floor as she walks to a door on the far side of the kitchen, passing through squares of moonlight like a fish flitting through pools in a stream. She opens the door to the stairs, then hesitates and turns back to me.

“Well, come on,” she finally says.

I try not to grin as I follow her up the stairs. We climb to the top floor, just as I’m expecting. But she turns away from the grand hallway and opens the door to a small, dark room. The first tendrils of fear start to twist around my heart. The room looks like it hasn’t been used in ages. The window is open, and the sheets look fresh, but still, the air smells musty. Anura lights the lamp, revealing a small bed, a dresser with a washbasin, and what looks like clean, folded clothes on a chair.

Anura waves me into the room. I glance toward the window, estimating what it would take to climb out of here, if I had to. I could do it, I think, but it certainly wouldn’t be pleasant. I clear my throat and try to give Anura a charming smile.

“Thank you,” I say. “Where is my⁠—”

I catch myself before I can say wife. I told the soldiers who ambushed us on the road that I’m her guard, not her husband. I need to watch my words if I’m going to keep that little charade up.

“Lilias,” I finish.

“With her brother,” Anura replies. “He’ll see you in the morning.”

I glance around the room. My body aches, and I feel unsettled and panicky. I want to see my damn wife, I realize, even though I know that’s ridiculous. She’s the princess of the kingdom; she’s infinitely safer here than she was in Vsenrog.

Anura begins to close the door. Another thought occurs to me.

“My lady,” I say.

Anura raises an eyebrow.

“I introduced myself as Lilias’s guard,” I explain. “These accommodations are far too fine for a guard.”

Anura rolls her eyes, then shuts the door. I wait for the click of a key in the lock, making sure I don’t leave without permission, but it doesn’t come. Anura’s footsteps recede. I stand in the middle of the room. Distant bits of conversation drift up through the open window, probably from the soldiers on watch around the lodge. An owl calls softly from the forest. I count to one hundred, then tiptoe forward and try the door.

It’s unlocked. The heavy wooden door swings open, revealing the dimly lit hallway. I frown at the shadows, then step back into the room, pulling the door closed behind me.

So they really don’t care if I stay or go. I could leave tonight, slip through the shadows, and melt into the night.

And go where? Back to the king who traded my life for whatever the hells it was that came through that portal? By now, they must have found Syvan’s body. Malrik will blame me, of course. I sigh as I sit down on the edge of the bed.

Exhaustion presses down on me, and I find I can’t even summon the strength to care that the king of Vsenrog is probably hunting me.