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“I wish Rask were still alive as much as you do.” Not because he’d liked his brother, but because with Rask performing all the duties the heir was supposed to do—soldiering, politicizing, and warmongering—Keris had been able to avoid them. But Rask had gotten himself killed in a skirmish with the Valcottans, and Keris’s greatest fear since his brother’s death was that he’d be able to avoid soldiering, politicizing, and warmongering no longer. Which was why his father not backtracking out of his agreement to allow him to go to Harendell had seemed like nothing short of an act of God.
Which, given he was a disbeliever of the first order, made Keris extremely suspicious.
“You are pathetic and weak, and your tongue is not worthy of speaking your brother’s name.” His father’s grip tightened. “But you are still my son. Which means I must find ways to capitalize upon your attributes, limited though they may be.”
And there was the catch.
Of course his father wanted something from him. He wouldn’t allow Keris to go without making him pay a price. “What will it be, Father? Spying on the Harendellians, I assume?”
He chuckled, and the sound made Keris’s skin crawl. Then his father released his shoulders. “No, Keris. I’ve spies aplenty. But rest assured that I will find a way to use you to my benefit.” And without another word, he strode up the gangplank and disappeared onto the ship.
Not spying, butsomething.And whatever it was, Keris knew he wouldn’t like it.
The old Ithicanian still stood a few paces away, waiting patiently. “If you’d follow me, Your Highness, we will get underway. We have restrictions on what is allowed through the bridge, which means all persons and baggage are subject to search. And”—his eyes flicked to the stacks of chests and to Keris’s entourage—“that might take more time than anticipated.”
Hours was what it took,the Ithicanians removing them to a stone warehouse whereeverythingwas thoroughly searched before being loaded into narrow wagons. And though Keris had watched his father’s ship sail away, he couldn’t shirk the sense thatsomethingwould happen that would see him not in Harendell, but back in Maridrina, once again immersed in a war he wanted no part of. A war he was opposed to on every possible level.
“They ready?”
A female voice caught his attention, and Keris lifted his face from the book he was reading to find an Ithicanian woman striding into the warehouse, several other armed Ithicanians on her heels. She was tall and lean, her dark-brown hair shaved on the sides of her head and the rest pulled back into a long tail at the back. She wore the drab greyish-green tunic and trousers that the Ithicanians favored, her thick leather boots rising to her knees and a multitude of weapons belted at her waist. Her arms were bare except for the vambraces buckled around them, her skin tanned but for the few pale scars lining it that suggested she was no stranger to combat. Like the rest of her countrymen, she wore a leather mask, making it difficult to guess her age with any certainty, but Keris doubted she was more than twenty.
The old Ithicanian nodded. “Their luggage is in order. An overabundance of drink, but they assure me it is for the journey, not to sell.” His jaw tightened. “Their…conductgives verity to the claim.”
“Lovely. There is nothing I like better than escorting drunk Maridrinian pricks.”
Keris laughed.
Her head jerked sideways, gaze lighting upon Keris where he leaned against the wall, far away from his companions.
After coughing to clear his throat, the old Ithicanian said, “This is Crown Prince Keris Veliant. The Queen’s elder brother.”
The woman inclined her head. “My apologies, Your Highness. I regret you overhearing my comment.”
But she didnotregret saying it. Keris liked her already. “Given I’m quite sober, I assume you’re delighted to escortme.”
Her hazel eyes flickered with amusement. “Sober… but youarea Maridrinian.”
“And a prick, as luck would have it.” He smirked at her. “I hope your king pays you well.”
“Not well enough.” She gestured toward his entourage. “If you’ll join your companions, Highness, you’ll be searched for weapons, and then we’ll be on our way.”
Keris made no comments as one of the soldiers accompanying her searched him from head to toe for weapons, pulling off his boots and inspecting their soles, the man’s efficiency suggesting he’d done this a hundred times and knew his business well. Keris’s entourage, on the other hand, snickered and laughed through the whole affair, making comments that had Keris grinding his teeth. He was on the verge of shouting at them to shut their damned mouths when one of them said to the Ithicanian woman, who was kneeling while searching him, “You look well practiced in this position, girl.”
Every Ithicanian in the room went still, their anger palpable even to the fools in his entourage, whose faces quickly drained of humor.
Shit.
The Ithicanian woman’s jaw had visibly tightened, but she said nothing as she finished her search. Then she stood abruptly, her shoulder catching the idiot between the legs hard enough that he screamed. Toppling over, he lay on his side, cursing and moaning while he clutched his groin.
The woman turned to the old Ithicanian, snapping, “There a Maridrinian ship in port, Rin?”
“Two.”
“Good. Pick one and tell them they’re taking His Highness and his men back to Vencia. Passage through the bridge is denied.”
Keris’s stomach dropped, panic rushing through his veins. He’d known this would happen. That his father would find some way to go back on his word.
“Raina.” The old man’s voice was disapproving. “Prince Keris is Queen Lara’s brother.”
