Page 108 of The Infernal Battalion

“I shall sleep,” Matthew announced, “on the sofa. I’m sure it is comfortable.”

He walked across the room to the ornate sofa against one wall and flopped onto it facedown, though it wasn’t long enough to accommodate his lanky frame.

After a moment he said, voice muffled, “It is not comfortable.”

Raesinia finally had to smile, just a little. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“You are the soul of courtesy.” Matthew rolled over. “Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Raesinia said, surprised to find that she was not. She had been, before he came in, angry with him and his father and every Borelgai. But something about his exaggerated self-​pity reminded her that he was as much a victim in this as she was. More so. I had a choice, and I got something out of it, even if the terms weren’t to my liking. “I’m angry at your father.”

“Being angry at my father is my stock-in-trade. I recommend it. It’s kept me looking youthful all these years.”

Raesinia smiled a little wider at the joke, which was more relevant than Matthew knew. She said, “Are you angry at me? I feel like you’d have every right to be. I did say I wasn’t going to take your father’s bargain.”

“I suppose I could be, but it seems like a lot of effort.” His expression softened. “And I understand your situation. I heard the word from Vordan.”

“Apparently everyone did,” Raesinia muttered.

“Keeping secrets is not among Borelgai virtues,” Matthew said. “In the Keep least of all.” He sighed. “If I blame anyone, I suppose it’s my father, but at this point it’s hard for me to hate even him. He’s just... a fact. Like the rain and the fog.”

“Can I ask you something?”

He shuffled himself up on the sofa, so he was at least partially upright. “Of course.”

“Why can’t you say no to him on this? From what he told me, you’ve refused marriages before.”

The second prince’s lips thinned. “It’s... personal.”

The Queen of Vordan and the Second Prince of Borel, caged together. Something in Raesinia’s mind rebelled at the thought that, between them, there was nothing they could do.

She got up from her seat at the table, picked up one of the heavy chairs, and dragged it across the room, to face the couch. The prince watched her curiously as she set it down and then sat facing him.

“There has to be a way out of this,” she said carefully. “I’m not sure how, but I’m pretty certain I’m going to need your help.”

“That seems unlikely,” Matthew said. “I’m not good for very much. Unless you need to throw a party.”

“It’s not just that I’m unhappy with the idea of this marriage,” Raesinia said, ignoring him. “There’s a man I’m in love with. His name is Marcus d’Ivoire.”

Matthew blinked. “The general?”

Raesinia nodded. “He wasn’t so high-​ranking when we met. And... it’s hard to explain. We went through a lot together.”

“Raesinia.” Matthew sat up a little straighter, and the cynical humor left his face. “Why are you telling me this? I take it no one else knows.”

“A few people do. My friend Cora.” She shook her head. “I’m telling you because I want you to trust me. If we’re going to work together and beat your father, we’re going to need that.”

“We won’t,” Matthew said. “We can’t. Believe me, no one has fought him longer or harder than I have.”

“Why?”

“Look,” Matthew said, the ironic twist of his lip sliding back into place. “Keep d’Ivoire around. I certainly won’t raise a fuss. Be discreet and we can all get what we want.”

“He wouldn’t accept that,” Raesinia said. “Marcus is... old-​fashioned sometimes.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to poison me,” Matthew said. “It shouldn’t be difficult. I drink quite a lot.”

“Matthew, please. I might be able to help you, but—”