AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I understand. And I know this will put a strain on the negotiations. No one will blame you if you and Prince Auberon decide to return to Erduria while he regains his strength. My uncle will be more than happy to send delegates to discuss the terms of a potential betrothal.”
“Thank you for your concern, but we’ve sailed all this way. I’m not leaving until after the negotiations are finished.” A weary smile tugged at his lips. “Plus, I’m fairly certainIwould be the next one in the infirmary if I told Auberon he had to endure another week of sailing. He can’t stand being on a ship.”
Her own smile faded. “Then he’s welcome to stay in the infirmary as long as he needs.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
Riona curtsied and started to walk away, then turned back. “Why didn’t you demand my hand in marriage when you spoke with my uncle, Your Highness? I saw you contemplating it. Why risk losing me to Prince Eamon or Duke Valerian when you could have won your prize tonight?”
The corners of his mouth turned downward at the wordprize.“Why did you comfort Auberon earlier? Our countries are enemies, yet you sat with him and held his hand while everyone else panicked. Not many people would do that.”
“I think that says more about other people than it does about me.”
His eyes bored into hers. “No, it doesn’t.”
Riona opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. Whyhadshe helped Auberon? After three decades of fighting, no one would have condemned her if she had left the prince to await the healer alone. Yet she couldn’t stop seeing the terror on Auberon’s face as he choked on his own blood. She couldn’t stop hearing the prince’s wet, ragged gasps for breath.
“You and Prince Auberon are strangers in a foreign kingdom, hundreds of miles from your home,” she finally said. “After my time in Beltharos, I know how it feels to be alone and surrounded by enemies. To fear that each day would be your last. I did what I would have wanted someone else to do if I had been in Prince Auberon’s place. It is as simple as that.”
Drystan was silent for several moments, warring emotions on his face. When he eventually spoke, all he said was, “Thank you for your kindness, my lady. I am more grateful for it than you can imagine. Auberon is, as well, but he’ll be too proud to admit it.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”
He chuckled as she started toward the exit, the Erdurian guards parting before her. One had just opened the door for her when Drystan called, “Because it was the right thing to do.”
Riona turned back. “I’m sorry?”
“Why I didn’t demand your hand in marriage tonight. What happened to my brother was terrible, and the person behind the attempt on his life will pay dearly for what he has done. But if we are to be wed, I don’t want it to be through political manipulations. Forcing you to become my wife is not the way I plan to heal the rift between our countries. I will not make you my prisoner.”
She sank into a curtsy, the tension in her chest unspooling. “Goodnight, Prince Drystan. I hope for your brother’s swift recovery.”
ChapterFourteen
The Liar
Auberon was miserable. His lungs burned with every breath. His mouth tasted like copper, his throat was dry, and his stomach churned.
But he was awake, and that meant he was alive.
He peeled his heavy eyelids open and winced at the sunlight streaming in through the open window. He lay on a cot in a sparsely furnished, unfamiliar room. The infirmary. He vaguely recalled someone mentioning the healer before all had gone black. A bedside table with an unlit lantern and a cup of water sat to his right. A lightweight blanket covered him from the waist down, and his chest was bare. His doublet and tunic had been neatly folded and left on a chair tucked into the corner of the room.
He turned his head. A table stood against the wall to his left, laden with bottles, vials, bandages, and countless medical implements. A man was hard at work grinding something with a mortar and pestle. He jumped when Auberon coughed, blood flecking his lips.
“Your Highness! You’re awake!” the stranger exclaimed. He handed Auberon a handkerchief to wipe his face, then opened the door and said to someone in the hall, “Send for Healer Barra and the prince. He’s awake.”
The prince?Auberon straightened.Drystan is here?
The man grabbed a vial from the table and lifted it to Auberon’s mouth. “Drink this, and drink all of it. It’ll ease your pain.”
He obeyed, wincing at the bitter burn of the tincture against his throat. Just as he swallowed the last drop, Drystan and two guards hurried into the room, an elderly man with frizzy gray hair close on their heels. The stranger—presumably Healer Barra—moved to the table and began speaking with the other man in a quiet voice.
“I can hardly believe you’re alive,” Drystan said as he dragged the chair over to Auberon’s bedside. He looked awful: his hair was loose and unkempt, his skin pale, his eyes underscored with dark shadows. If Auberon hadn’t felt as if he’d been trampled by about a dozen horses, he would have thoughtDrystanwas the one who had nearly died the night before—which didn’t bode well for his own appearance. “How do you feel?”
“Oh, I’ve certainly felt better,” he rasped. “I suspect I’ve looked better, too.”
Drystan shook his head, chuckling softly. “Even after being poisoned, you’re as vain as ever.”
“I strive for nothing if not consistency.”
