Page 33 of Queen of War and Ruin

Lilias

LET ME GO

Acorn nickers softly as I scratch his ears. I wipe my eyes, then kiss the star on his forehead. It is like seeing my friends again, visiting the horses from Marion’s royal stables. And what does that say about me, that my only friends in the palace have four legs and can’t speak?

“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper to Acorn.

He munches on oats and watches me with his huge, brown eyes.

“My husband wants a divorce,” I admit.

Acorn drops his head and picks up another mouthful of oats. I press my palms against my eyes, willing myself not to cry. Again.

Gods, I am soft. No wonder Zarek doesn’t want me.

Tears push against my eyelids, burning as my throat pulls tight. I shake my head, trying to think of something else. Anything else.

And the door to the stables rolls open.

I snap my head up as a man staggers into the stable. What in the hells? I drop my hand into my pocket, feeling for the hilt of the dagger strapped to my thigh. The man comes closer, stumbling toward the light from the lantern hanging above the pile of straw.

Oh. Lovely.

It’s my husband.

I cross my arms over my chest and wait for him to notice me. The horses stick their noses out of their stalls as he passes, watching with mild interest. When he finally sees me, he freezes like he’s been caught doing something forbidden. Or something stupid.

“Princess,” he slurs.

“You’re drunk,” I reply. I can smell the wine from here.

“Yeah, no shit,” he snaps.

My heart rises in the back of my throat. I know he didn’t come here looking for me, damn it. But still, that thought won’t stop echoing through my mind.

Maybe he’s here for me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He won’t say he was looking for me. He won’t.

“I’m going,” he says.

Those stupid, stupid tears come back. I try to breathe as Zarek fiddles with the latch on one of the stalls.

“What are you trying to do?” I snap.

“I’m leaving,” he growls.

He gets the latch open, then starts to tug on the door. The horse inside the stall snorts.

I run over and slam the door closed.

“You can’t ride like this!” I yell. “You’ll fall off and break your neck!”

He sighs, then turns to me. “And who would miss me, Princess?”

His eyes shine in the lamplight, like he’s been crying. But that’s absurd. Why would the snake of Vsenrog cry?