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“Have the Kostori done nothing worthy of praise in Kenter? Eamon’s father gave your father his position.”
“That’s what King Jericho would have you believe. My father sits on our country’s throne and takes the blame for our problems while the Kostori grow fat on our food and conscript our men for their army. I assured you at the banquet that Eamon was exaggerating our political unrest, and that was true,” he said, his pale green eyes cutting back to her. “The noble families who demand justice for the former Grand Duke are nothing but a vocal minority, powerless. But they desire to see our country freed, just as my father and I do. If we were able to gather a force large enough to reestablish our independence, Kenter would flourish once again.”
She tilted her head, considering what he’d said. “But do you not fear that in allying with us, you will be trading one foe for another?” Riona asked, as casually as if they were discussing the weather. “Once you win your freedom, who is to say that my uncle will not demand your aid in the war against Erduria?”
A flicker of uncertainty passed across the duke’s face, but he quickly blinked it away. “If you were to help us regain our independence, we would owe it to you to fight at your side. You and I would stand against the Empire together.”
If Riona knew one thing for certain, it was that Duke Valerian was not a coward. Admittedly, she hadn’t expected much from him when he was presented before the court on his first night in Innislee. He was tall, corded with lean muscle, and his pale eyes and golden hair gave him a deceptive air of softness. In fact, he had reminded her a little of Percival, with his quiet, bookish manner.
The thought chipped away at her innate dislike of the suitors. She could tell by the conviction in Valerian’s voice that he meant every word he said. She suspected that if it came to war, he would fight on the battlefield alongside his men, just as King Tamriel and Queen Mercy had. Somehow, she would find him the army he needed, and not just because she wanted her own future. She truly hoped to see him succeed in freeing his country.
Still, she had to think first and foremost about her freedom. Duke Valerian was courageous, but he was no fool. If she planted the doubts in his mind, he would soon realize that he couldn’t stand against Kostos and Erduria in the negotiations for her hand. He couldn’t afford the cost of a marriage alliance with Rivosa.
“It would be an honor to stand by your side,” Riona said, surprised to find that she meant it. “How many men are in your army right now?”
“By law, my father is allowed to have only eight thousand at his command. We could call on another twelve thousand to join us, but they’re troops that are held and commanded by the Kentari nobility. He would require their support to lead them in battle, which is problematic because the nobility is divided in its loyalty to Kostos and to my father. That is why I need your uncle’s aid.”
“So, twenty thousand total—ifyou and your father manage to convince the nobles to support your war for independence,” Riona mused. “Kostos has been benefiting from your country’s resources for the last fifteen years, so they’ll have the supplies to endure the fighting. My uncle will help where he can, I’m sure, but it’ll be difficult to send aid if we’re still fighting the Empire for control of the Tranquil Sea. It’ll be easy for them to set up blockades around Kenter’s ports. Still, I’m certain we will find a way. My uncle has managed to hold the Erdurian navy at bay for thirty years. He can do it a little while longer.”
“I’m…sure he can.” Duke Valerian smiled, but Riona didn’t miss his unease as he looked away.
Across the garden, Prince Domhnall’s sword flipped out of his hand and landed in the grass at his feet. He lifted his hands in surrender as Eamon leveled the point of his blade at the Crown Prince’s heart. “Yield,” Domhnall gasped, sweat dripping down his face.
The courtiers applauded as Domhnall offered the Kostori prince a good-natured slap on the back, then bent to pick up his sword. He didn’t even have time to straighten completely before Amaris ambushed him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. Eamon chuckled at them as he returned his practice sword to the weapon stand on the far side of the garden. He scanned the crowd, his expression brightening when he spotted Valerian.
“Ready for our match, Your Grace?” he asked as a servant rushed forward with a goblet of wine for him. He took a sip and raised a brow at the duke. “I do hope you’ve been practicing since the last time we sparred.”
Valerian’s fingers tightened around the stem of his own goblet, but his smile was as easy and polished as ever. “Of course. I don’t intend to lose to you twice. I don’t think your ego could handle it.”
Eamon ignored the jab, draining his wine and gesturing for the duke to follow him to the sparring ring. Valerian offered Riona an apologetic smile as he set aside his goblet and followed the prince. As soon as they picked up the practice swords, the nobles circled around them, excited to see what would come of this volatile match.
A soft touch brushed Riona’s arm.
She turned to find a young girl—no more than fourteen years old—standing in the shadow of the wall that surrounded the garden, nervously eyeing the gathered courtiers. The knees of her servant’s uniform were streaked with dirt, marking her as one of the gardeners. “Aeron sent me, my lady,” she whispered. “He has found the servant who gave the poisoned wine to Prince Auberon.”
Her grave tone sent a chill down Riona’s spine. “And?”
“She’s dead.”
Dead.A stone sank to the pit of Riona’s stomach. How many more bodies would stack up before the Treasurer’s killer was found? “Do the city watch or royal guard know?”
“They know that she hasn’t reported to work since the banquet, but nothing more. One of Aeron’s men found her body dumped in an alley. She was badly beaten, but…he managed to identify her,” the girl said, tripping over the words. “Aeron sent me to find out what you want us to do next.”
Riona glanced at the courtiers, all distracted by the sparring match. She wanted to go and examine the servant’s body herself, to glean what information she could about the woman’s murder, but she couldn’t leave just yet. “Have him meet me at the Royal Theater tonight, at midnight. I want to examine the body.”
The girl curtsied and started to turn away, but Riona pulled a small piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to the servant. “Please deliver this to Prince Auberon.”
She nodded and left, and Riona turned her attention to the suitors. Valerian’s and Eamon’s blades were locked, sweat pouring down their faces as they glared at each other, each trying to gain the upper hand. The nobles were wholly focused on them, engrossed in the match. She couldn’t leave the castle, but she could slip away for a short while without her absence raising too many questions.
Without a glance back, Riona stepped through the archway and left the garden behind.
ChapterTwenty-Five
The Liar
“Did you hear a word I said?” Drystan asked, his sharp tone drawing Auberon out of his thoughts. They were standing in the hall outside the throne room, awaiting the king’s summons. “Have you been listeningat all?”
“I’m listening, I’m listening.” Auberon rubbed his tired eyes with the heels of his palms. When he finally fell asleep the night before, it had been a fitful, uneasy rest. “In summary, you want me to stand back and say nothing while you make a bid for the lady’s hand. Oh, and keep any smart comments to myself. Does that about cover it?”
