Page 88 of Queen of War and Ruin

The old woman enters the room. She walks to Blayne, and he whispers in her ear. She nods, muttering something in return. Clearly, Blayne wasn’t about to take me at my word. He had to check with the woman who does the laundry. Blayne stares at me as Doloros slowly shuffles back out of the room.

“Well,” he finally says. “That’s fortunate.”

I don’t reply. There are several chairs in this room, but Blayne doesn’t offer me a seat, so I ignore them. He frowns at me; I have the vague sense that he’s disappointed. Then again, I often felt like Blayne was vaguely disappointed in me.

I thought that’s what people who loved you did. They told you when you were being a disappointment.

“It appears your first husband is still alive,” Blayne finally says.

“So much for our marriage,” I reply dryly.

Blayne waves his hand over his desk. “Oh, our marriage contract still stands,” he says. “It just won’t take effect until the snake is dead.”

My throat feels tight, like the room is running out of air. I don’t dare respond.

“Malrik is planning a celebration,” Blayne continues. “A three-day victory ball. To commemorate the reunification of Vsenrog.” Blayne looks up at me and frowns. “You do remember? All of my lessons?”

I don’t respond. Blayne continues anyway.

“Marion and Ethiria were never their own kingdoms,” he says. “And now, finally, King Malrik has brought them back home. It’s an excellent reason for a celebration. The king is even going to treat us to a demonstration of his new weapon.”

He looks at me with an expression that suggests he’s about to tell me to write something down because it’s important.

“And this particular victory ball,” he says, with a nasty smile, “will end on a particularly memorable note. With the public execution of the snake of Vsenrog.”

Blayne’s hard eyes never leave my face.

I remember the exact sound he made when I punched him in the stomach in the Marion dungeon, and I dig my fingers into my skirt to keep from screaming. The cut I gave myself aches against the leather sheath of Zarek’s dagger. My jaw clenches as I force myself to breathe. A three-day celebration before the execution.

I have three days to get to the palace and find Zarek.

“A celebration?” I finally say. “Will it be held at the palace?”

“Yes, of course,” Blayne replies. Annoyance flashes across his face. “Where else would it be?”

“So, shouldn’t we be there?” I ask as innocently as I can. “For the celebration? Aren’t all the nobles invited?”

Blayne’s smile evaporates. I glance down at the floor, trying to pretend that I’ve just now remembered he’s not a nobleman. Oops.

“Of course we’ll be there,” he snaps. “Once the celebration begins, we’ll be King Malrik’s honored guests. Having you there, the princess and sole heir of one of our lost provinces, now married into Vsenrog just like your sad little province. Well. It’s is very important to His Highness.”

“So why aren’t we there now?” I ask.

Blayne comes to his feet and glares at me.

“You cannot enter the royal palace of Vsenrog without an invitation,” he says very slowly, like he’s speaking to a child. Or maybe a dog.

“And you weren’t invited?”

Blayne makes a barking sound, something that might have been intended as a laugh.

“Don’t get smart with me,” he snaps. “You’re not a princess here, Lilias. You can’t expect me to indulge your little whims anymore.”

Indulge me? Rage simmers inside my chest like steam in a teakettle. Blayne leans back and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I won’t share your bed right away,” he says, like I’m not about to punch him a second time. “Your pregnancy will make me a nobleman. I cannot risk any rumors about its legitimacy. And that’s why I’ll wait two months before impregnating you with my son.”

I sputter, choking on all the insults I can’t hurl at him if I’m going to be charming. Blayne ignores me.