Page 29 of Queen of War and Ruin

“Are you okay?” the prince asks.

“Fine,” I say, with a smile.

Divorce. That would be the honorable thing to do, no? There’s no strategic value to our marriage anymore. I’m no longer the snake of Vsenrog; hells, King Malrik probably thinks I murdered Prince Syvan. I can’t return to Vsenrog, not unless I want to swing from the gallows. And Dungal has been dust and ash for decades. Even if I limp back to that tiny village in the mountains, I’ll be nothing more than the son of the former king’s gardener.

I’m the prince of nothing, now. Just like the man standing before me.

I laugh. It comes out sharp and ragged. Prince Elrick frowns at me like he’s wondering if he needs to pull out his blade.

“Pardon me,” I say, still smiling. “I believe I’ll excuse myself.”

I leave before the prince can respond.

She’ll be in the stables, with the horses. I walk toward the stairs, but a flicker of motion catches my eye. There’s a door in the far wall that’s open to a narrow porch beneath the star-studded sky.

And standing on the porch, leaning against the railing, is my wife. I take a deep breath, then close my eyes against the ache in my chest.

Gods, I’m a fool. Malrik knew it all along. That’s why he set this brilliant trap, isn’t it? To catch the snake who has no heart. My hands are shaking. I grip the banister until the feeling passes, and then I walk through the door and face the beautiful woman who was forced to marry the snake of Vsenrog.

Lilias looks up when I approach. Light catches on the tears tracing silver paths down her cheeks. I stand next to her, strangling the urge to touch her. She shakes her head.

“I can’t believe it,” she says in a soft, broken voice.

“I know,” I reply. “It’s incredibly unfair.”

She frowns, and my heart cracks open. If I don’t do this now, I’m going to lose my nerve.

“I’m willing to grant you a divorce,” I say.

“What?”

I blink. I don’t think my words were unclear.

“You’re right,” I say. “It’s not fair that your brother chose his partner and you didn’t.”

She laughs. It sounds like a gasp. Or a sob.

“Stop,” she says, shaking her head.

A burst of laughter rises through the night air, coming from the crowd in the common room below us. It makes me feel cold.

“There’s no longer any strategic value to our marriage,” I say, “as I believe I’m no longer welcome in Vsenrog. So, divorce is the easiest option.”

My voice doesn’t shake. I’m almost proud of that. Lilias makes another gasping sort of laugh. Or perhaps it’s a cough.

“Gods, stop it,” she says. She turns to face me. Wind ruffles her hair and tugs at her shirt. “Zarek, if you divorce me, then I’m legally married to Blayne.”

My mouth falls open. Something very, very cold threads a path through my heart.

“Oh,” I manage to say.

Lilias shakes her head and laughs again. Or cries.

“He has a marriage contract,” she says. “With his name and my name. Signed by King Malrik himself. He shoved it in my face after Malrik murdered my father. There wasn’t even a place for me to add my seal.”

She laughs bitterly. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

“That’s why Blayne gave you the potion,” I say as my mind ruthlessly puts the jagged pieces together. “So you wouldn’t be pregnant when he married you.”