Page 6 of Bride of Ash & Dust

I take a deep breath, then lower my hands and blink until the room comes into focus. Blayne is watching me warily, like I’m a strange animal who might bite. It’s the same way he looked at me after the first time I pushed him too far, when he lost control and showed me exactly what I would be doing with whoever married me.

I reach forward, then take his hand in mine. Just like the first time I pushed him too far, I try to reassure him.

“I’m fine,” I whisper, although it feels like a lie.

But I am fine. I have to be fine. What other choice do I have? I could kick and scream, cry and howl, but I’ll still have to marry the snake of Vsenrog, King Malrik’s assassin.

I’m a princess. I have to marry a prince.

And then, because I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep without an answer, I ask Blayne what I really want to know.

“And you?” I ask. “Will you come with me to Vsenrog?”

For the first time since our kiss, Blayne smiles at me.

“It would be my honor,” he replies. “I can’t travel with you, but I promise, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Chapter 4

Zarek

I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING

“What’s she like?” I ask.

Petrys, my informant, shrugs.

“She’s fucking her tutor,” he says.

Ah. That was the rumor. As far as scandals go, it’s pretty mild. I suppose I should be grateful she isn’t a virgin. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to deflowering a woman I’ve never met while the king’s witnesses watch through the secret two-way mirror in my bedroom.

“Anything else?” I ask, as I lean across the table to refill his glass.

The crowded pub fills with raucous laughter as the musician finishes a particularly filthy rendition of “Barmaid’s Brawl.” I’ll have to remember those verses. Petrys meets my gaze and grins.

“What? That’s not scandal enough?” he asks. “What else do you want to know?”

I lean back in the booth. The musician picks up his lute and begins another song. It’s that stupid one about cutting your heart out; the crowd sings every word with brutal enthusiasm and a reckless disregard for tune or key.

What do I want to know about the woman I’m going to marry in less than a week?

I know she’s the only daughter of the king of Marion, a very small country that produces little of note. I know she has one sibling, an older brother named Elrick, and that her mother died giving birth to her. I know she was supposed to marry Prince Laurance of Ethiria, a man who supposedly takes idiocy to stunning new heights.

I also know that her incompetent father is a ruler in name only; the political will of Marion rests with a council of mayors who represent the important towns and districts of the kingdom. And now, I know she’s already taken a lover, which is a bit of a relief.

What I don’t know is why King Malrik is suddenly interested in Marion.

Even before they opened their new mine, he was sending more spies and scouts than seemed necessary into that kingdom. I think Malrik hasn’t forgotten that Vsenrog once ruled that little corner of the world, before the villages united and pushed back Malrik’s great-grandfather.

My marriage to the only daughter of Marion’s king is a naked power grab, and there’s not a godsdamned thing I can do about it. I know Malrik wants to control Marion, anyone who’s even glanced at the movements of his scouts and troops in the past year knows that, but the why is still unclear. It’s a kingdom of rocks, sheep, and dry, arid plains sandwiched between Vsenrog and Ethiria. There’s very little strategic value to the place, and even less to be gained from the local economy.

I raise my mug to my lips and sip the warm, bitter ale. This pub has the worst ale in the entire city, which makes it a great place to meet my informants. No one of note ever comes in here.

My mug makes a clink as I put it back on the table. I clear my throat.

“I need to know everything about her that could be used against me,” I say.

Petrys barks a laugh.