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“I already heard this lecture from my mother.”
“You should listen to her. A great woman, your mother.”
I felt my lip curl. In the eight months between Camilla’s and my father’s deaths and my brother’s birth, Toris insinuated himself into my mother’s circle. Weren’t they both grieving spouses? But everyone knew there was more to it than that; because Renalt’s crown could only be passed to a male inheritor, our position would have become instantly precarious if the baby was a girl. To remain in power, Mother would be forced to marry, and marry quickly. Toris was the logical choice. Everyone said so.
I was thankful every day that Conrad turned out to be a boy. With a son to inherit, there was no need for Mother to marry; indeed, doing so might weaken Conrad’s royal claim. Conrad’s birth saved me from a lifetime with Toris as stepfather. Or king. I didn’t know which one would have been worse.
Toris was looking at me with his most concerned, paternal expression. “Because of my position inside the Tribunal, I have been able, at your mother’s behest, to steer them away from you on more than one occasion. Now that these last two cases, Mabel Doyle and the other—?Harriet, I think it was?—?have been resolved, I’ve little doubt I’ll have to concert my efforts on your behalf once more.”
“Hilda,” I murmured. “Her name was Hilda.”
“Why would you remember her name?” He looked down his narrow nose at me. “That is exactly the kind of thing that makes people wary of you. Your sympathies are suspect. Be warned, it’s only a matter of time before I run out of Hildas to distract them with.” A smile crept across his face. He’d convicted a woman who was almost certainly innocent, and he wanted me to be thankful that he’d done it, and would do it again. I gripped the stem of my goblet so tight, my fingernails bit into my skin. Hilda would haunt her daughter-in-law, but I shared the blame in her death.
“Lisette arrived today and should be along shortly,” Toris said, cheerily changing the subject. Quietly, so Kellan couldn’t hear, he said, “She has been so very anxious to see Lieutenant Greythorne again. She has a particular fondness for him, I’m told.”
It was a special talent he had, to send a needle straight into my heart through the tiniest flaw in my armor. It wasn’t that Lisette cared for Kellan that way—?I sincerely doubted she did—?but that Toris knew I did. I took a breath. Well, I now knew a few of the chinks in his armor, too.
“I thought that maybe, now that you’re letting Achlevan ships into your port, she might set her sights on a nice, burly Achlevan sailor. You’d make a fine grandfather to a whole brood of sturdy Achlevan pups.”
“Aren’t you a wonder?” he asked, eyes narrowing into half-moons while the smile remained frozen on his face. “Not afraid of anything, are you?”
I’m afraid of marrying the sickly prince of Achleva. I’m afraid of never seeing my mother or brother again. I’m afraid of the Tribunal. I’m afraid that Kellan protects me only out of duty. I’m afraid of the ghosts that lie around every corner. I’m afraid that someday soon I’ll be joining them in the hereafter. I took another drink. “Not anything.”
He brushed his suit coat and leaned back. “You should be. The wolves howl, Aurelia, and there may come a time when I will no longer be able to hold them back.”
An oily little smile played on his lips, making it clear that he was looking forward to it.
5
I
stared at him, but his malicious smile had already been smoothed away. Toris stood and straightened his coat. “Looks like my daughter has just arrived. Good evening, Princess.”
Lisette de Lena was at the top of the staircase, decked in a crimson gown that set off the rosy glow of her cheeks. Her hair gleamed gold in the lamplight. When we were children, people used to remark how alike we looked, though I always knew such comments were more for my benefit than for hers. If a painting of Lisette was left out in the elements for a few weeks, it might fade into something that looked a bit like me.
We were best friends, once.
She paused at my brother’s chair to furtively slip him a piece of chocolate, rewarding his eager smile with a stealthy wink before moving in my direction.
“Your Highness.” She addressed me coolly as she approached. “And Lieutenant Greythorne,” she added, holding out a gloved hand, “always a pleasure.”
Kellan gave a quick bow. “My lady.” I gave a slight tip of my head. It was all the politeness I could muster.
A twitch of her lip was the only slip in her composure. “Well, good to see you both,” she said sweetly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must go say hello to Duke Northam. His poor, dear wife, Agnes, just lost her father, and I need to find out if she received the flowers I sent.”
I’d already stopped listening. Simon had entered and was being seated in a place of honor on the other side of my mother, beside my brother.
Had I made a mistake, letting Toris know I was aware of his dealings with Achleva? The wolves howl, Aurelia, Toris had said. And there may come a time when I will no longer be able to hold them back.
Who were the wolves? The Tribunal? The townsfolk who thought I was a witch? The ones who hated me simply because they didn’t want our country to be united with Achleva? Enemies were all around me, living and dead. I didn’t want to die—?I still had too much to do. An idea began to form in the back of my mind, a sort of contingency plan should things take a turn for the worse.
“Excuse me, Princess, your glass—?”
A young man in servant’s livery was standing over me with a jug of wine. I jumped at the sound of his voice, knocking my goblet right out of his hands. Red liquid splashed across my bodice and into my lap.
“So sorry, my lady,” the young man mumbled, trying to dab at the spreading stain with his cloth.
“No, no, don’t worry,” I said, shoving his cloth back into his hands as I rose. “I’ll just . . . I’ll just . . .”
