AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I do.” The king’s words were punctuated by the hammer of a hundred swords and spears against shields, and Lara twitched.
But the shock of the noise was nothing compared to what she felt when the soldier turned to her and said, “Do you, Lara Veliant, Princess of Maridrina, swear to fight by this man’s side, to defend him to your dying breath, to cherish his body and none other, and to be loyal to him as long as you both live?”
She blinked. And because there was nothing else for her to say, she whispered, “I do.”
Nodding, the soldier pulled out a knife. “Now don’t be a baby about this, Majesty,” he muttered, and the king answered with a tense chuckle before holding out his hand.
The soldier sliced the knife across the king’s palm, then before Lara could pull away, he grabbed her arm and ran the knife across her hand as well. She saw the blood well up before she felt the sting. The soldier pressed their palms together, the King of Ithicana’s hot blood mixing with hers before running down their entwined fingers.
The soldier jerked their hands up, almost lifting Lara off her feet. “Behold, the King and Queen of Ithicana.”
As if to punctuate his words, the storm finally fell upon them with a resounding clap of thunder that made the ground shudder. The drums took up their frenzied pace, and the King of Ithicana pulled their hands out of the soldier’s grip, lowering his arm so Lara wasn’t on her tiptoes. “I suggest you board your ship, Your Grace,” he said to Lara’s father. “This storm will chase you home as it is.”
“You could always offer your hospitality,” her father responded, and Lara’s attention flicked from him to Serin, who stood with the rest of the Maridrinians beyond. “We are, after all, family now.”
The King of Ithicana laughed. “One step at a time, Silas. One step at time.” He turned and gently tugged Lara into the depths of the bridge, the portcullis rattling its way down behind them. She had only the opportunity for a brief glance back over her shoulder at her father, his expression blank and unreadable. But beyond, Serin met her gaze, inclining his head once in a slow nod before she was pulled out of sight.
It was dark inside, smelling faintly of animal dung and sweat. None of the Ithicanians removed their helmets, but even with their faces concealed, Lara felt their scrutiny.
“Welcome to Ithicana,” the king—her husband—said. “I’m sorry to have to do this.”
Lara saw him lift a hand holding a vial. She could’ve dodged it. She could have taken him down with a single blow, fought her way free of his soldiers. But she couldn’t let him know that. Instead, she gave him a doe-eyed look of shock as he held it up to her nose, the world spinning around her, darkness rushing in. Her knees buckled and she felt strong arms catch her before she hit the ground. The last thing she heard before she faded from consciousness was the king’s resigned voice: “What have I gotten myself into with you?”
5
Aren
Aren,the thirty-seventh ruler of Ithicana, lay on his back, staring up at the soot stains on the roof of the barracks. His helmet rested next to his left hand and, as he turned his head to regard the monstrous steel thing he’d inherited along with his title, he decided that whichever one of his ancestors had come up with the idea of the helmets had been both a genius and a sadist. Genius, because the things put fear in the hearts of Ithicana’s enemies. Sadist, because wearing it was like having his head stuffed in a cooking pot that smelled of sweaty socks.
His twin sister’s face appeared in his line of sight, her expression amused. “Nana has examined her. Says she’s shockingly fit, most certainly healthy, and, barring tragedy, likely to live a goodly long while.”
Aren blinked once.
“Disappointed?” Ahnna asked.
Rolling onto one elbow, Aren sat upright on the bench. “Contrary to the opinions of our neighboring kingdoms, I’m not actually so depraved as to wish death upon an innocent girl.”
“Are you so sure she’s innocent?”
“Are you arguing that she’s not?”
Ahnna scrunched up her face, then shook her head. “In true Maridrinian fashion, they’ve given you a beautiful and sheltered shrinking violet. Good to look at and not much else.”
Remembering how the young woman had shaken as she’d walked up the pier, holding tightly to her father’s arm, her enormous blue eyes filled with terror, Aren was inclined to agree with his sister’s assessment. Yet even so, he fully intended to keep Lara isolated until he could get a grasp on her true nature. And learn exactly where her loyalties lay.
“Have our spies learned anything more about her?”
Ahnna shook her head. “Nothing. He appears to have kept her hidden away in the desert, and until she rode out of the red sands, not even the Maridrinians knew her name.”
“Why all the secrecy?”
“They say it was for her protection. Not everyone is pleased about our alliance with Maridrina, Valcotta most of all.”
Aren frowned, dissatisfied with the answer, though he could not say why. Maridrina and Valcotta were continually at war over the fertile stretch of land running down the western coast of the southern continent, the border contested by both kingdoms. It was possible the Valcottan Empress might have attempted to disrupt the alliance by assassinating the princess, but he thought it unlikely. For one, Silas Veliant had more daughters than he knew what to do with, and the treaty had not been specific about which girl would be sent. Two, every kingdom north and south knew that Aren’s marriage to a Maridrinian princess was nothing more than a symbolic act, all parties involved more interested in the trade terms underpinning the agreement and the peace they purchased. The treaty would have endured even if the princess had not.
But third, and what troubled him most of all, was that it wasn’t Maridrinian nature tohidefrom anyone.If anything, Silas would have relished the assassination of a daughter or two because it would renew the flagging support of his people for the war against Valcotta.
“She awake yet?”
