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“That son of a bitch, he raped my little sister. My sister. Fucker. God damn him and his whole fucking family. I’ll kill every one of them. Every single fucking one. What did she do to deserve this? She’s barely old enough to even understand what happened to her.”
That motherfucker. I didn’t have to ask who. It was no surprise to me that Prince Galen had taken one of the servants to his bedroom. Promiscuous and greedy, and proud of it as far as I could tell. But raping a girl who was barely more than a child was a whole different level.
In a matter of seconds, I’d made the mental calculations. Assassinations weren’t that fucking difficult. Given a good horse, a sharp blade, and this vengeance I felt in my bones, I was pretty sure I could catch up with the carriages and slit Galen’s throat by noon.
But the blowback from killing him now, without taking my time to think it through, was nothing but bloodlust. That was a decision I had to weigh carefully. One thing I knew for sure—for Anika’s sake, for Aidan’s sake, for his sister’s sake, for my sake, and for the sake of all of us: “He won’t live long enough to hurt anyone else.”
The darkness released its grip on Aidan, enough for him to see through the haze. He ran his hand down his jaw and eyed me. “I’ll kill him, Maksim. I’ll do it if I see him again.”
No my prince. No your highness. No standing on ceremony.
“I hear you, brother,” I said as I clapped him on the shoulder. “But just leave it with me. We both have reason enough to want that fucker gone, but it has to be done right. You kill a prince, I can’t protect you. Understood?”
Aidan blinked slowly and nodded, his jaw tight. He didn’t have to like it, but I had to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. “Understood.”
“Now go, take care of your sister. Get Maria to check on her, too.”
“Yes, sir,” he said grimly, and spun on his heel, jogging back toward the kitchens with chain mail jangling.
Once I was alone, the rage overtook me yet again. I worked the hilt of my dagger around and around in my palm. That useless piece of shit would never get near Anika again. I’d kill him before I let that happen. I’d let the kingdoms go to war. I’d let the world fucking burn. He wasn’t taking her as his wife. No fucking way in hell.
* * *
“Speak. Quickly.” I stared at the condemned wretch. He was dressed in some finery, though it had taken a battering during his time in prison. That, together with the tone of the note delivered yesterday, told me that he wasn’t like those bastards that attacked Anika on the road. This was a different animal altogether.
“Why are you here?” he asked, looking up from his meager meal and meeting my eyes.
I considered for a moment. Was I at a disadvantage here? Was he trying to bait me? Trying to extend his own miserable existence?
It didn’t matter. I needed answers.
“My uncle. He’s marrying my sister off to some foreign noble, a complete bastard. That would be bad enough, but he didn’t tell me anything about it. I found out the same time she did, at the banquet to celebrate her betrothal last night.”
“Ah.” He nodded, concern written on his brow. “Then it’s starting.”
“What is starting? What aren’t I seeing? And who exactly are you?”
“All good questions, your highness, and I’ll answer them. But first, a little background. Anika is not your sister.”
“I know that,” I said in frustration.
“Yes, but do you know who she is?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Before your birth, certain promises were made. You know your father was a warrior king, just like you? Not like his brother, the coward. Well, Anika’s father and yours fought side by side as allies. Not long after you were born, and long before she was, your father nearly died. Anika’s father, a knight of his own land, pulled him from the battlefield, wounded, at great risk to his own life. Your father promised that the first daughter produced by that knight would be wed to his son, granting lands and titles beyond anything he could have hoped for.”
I blinked at him in disbelief. “Anika and I were betrothed?”
He nodded. “Long before this foreign prince. Your uncle, of course, knew about this, and no doubt the princess’s mother as well. But that’s irrelevant. She is not your enemy, she is simply weak willed and damaged by all that’s befallen her. She thinks this is the way to keep her daughter safe. It is not.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You probably shouldn’t, but you do. And that’s because it’s only confirming what you already know, deep down. You’re no fool, Prince Maksim. You might like to act the brute but you have your father’s intellect.”
