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Amaris’s brows shot up. “Truly? How do you know?”
“I have my methods. I’m told his infant son has his true father’s nose.” Riona shot her a wicked grin. “I doubt Lord Tristan would care much, though. He’s sleeping with the captain of the city watch.”
Before Amaris could sputter a surprised reply, Riona pulled on her heels and strode out of the gatehouse, offering only a passing glance to the two council members who stood nearby. Amaris hurried after her. Lord Tristan, a barrel-chested man with a thick, dark beard, dipped his head in respect as they approached the royal carriage awaiting them. Riona heard Amaris stifle a laugh as she nodded in response.
“You never breathed a word of that to me!” she accused once they were both settled in the carriage. “Why did you never tell me? And why didn’t you say anything to him just then? He must have realized we overheard his conversation.”
“If he cared about that, he wouldn’t have discussed me in the castle. Everyone knows the walls of this place have ears.” She cast a sidelong glance at Amaris. “You must not repeat what I told you. Secrets are a commodity in a city like this.”
Amaris made a small huff of assent, still looking slightly annoyed that Riona had kept such intriguing information to herself.
Riona studied the lord as the carriage lurched into motion. If the revelation that he was a cuckold, father to a bastard, and an Unnatural spread around the court, Lord Tristan’s family would be disgraced. He wouldn’t be stripped of his place on the council, but he’d lose all respect in the court, and it wouldn’t be long before he resigned his position. Riona didn’t want to be the cause of his downfall. Unlikable or not, he was a good leader and advisor, and the people of his sector had flourished since he’d inherited his father’s position. Still, it didn’t hurt to have one piece of scandalous information at her disposal, should she need it.
Her gaze slid to the advisor at Tristan’s side. Lord Farquar was the newest member of the king’s council, a former captain of the Rivosi navy. He was tall and well-muscled, with the fair skin of the southern lords. He had retired from the navy earlier that year to assume his father’s position on the council when the older man’s health began to fail. Riona had heard the stories of his victories in the war with Erduria, but she didn’t know the man personally, and that made her uneasy. There was something about the steady, appraising look in his cool emerald eyes that reminded her of Nicholas Comyn.
She shook off the thought and closed the curtains over the window. Farquar was not Nicholas. Both had been respected military leaders, but that was where their similarities ended. Nicholas had been a monster. Farquar was only a man.
ChapterFive
The Lady
The second the council chamber doors opened, a flood of overlapping voices spilled into the hall. Riona held her head high and shoulders back as she walked into the room, the conversation fading to a hush as she dropped into a low curtsy before the long table that dominated the space. Her skin prickled under the weight of the advisors’ stares.
“Your Majesties,” she intoned, her gaze trained on the floor. “My lords and ladies.”
“Rise, my dear,” King Domhnall said. He stood on the opposite side of the table, dressed in a gold-trimmed black doublet. Her uncle shared his brother’s broad-shouldered build and regal features, but his dark curly hair and short beard were woven through with strands of silver. “Welcome home. It’s nothing short of a miracle that you have returned to us, and I thank the Creator every day that you’re safe.”
Some of the tension in her chest eased at the warmth in his voice, the dread from the previous night’s conversation fading as she claimed the empty seat beside her father. As soon as she sat, the queen reached across the table and clasped her hand. “After you left last night, Domhnall filled me in on what Lord Winslow shared at yesterday’s meeting. I scarcely believed it when he told me that you joined the battle of Sandori. That was incredibly brave of you.”
“Brave, but foolhardy,” Lord Farquar said. “His Majesty sent her to Beltharos to be a bride, not a martyr.”
Her father opened his mouth, but Riona cut in before he could speak, shooting the lord a scathing look. “Nicholas Comyn betrayed his king, stole the throne, slaughtered countless innocents, and sentenced his nephew and me to execution. It is true that I am not a warrior, but I would not leave my husband to face a bloodthirsty tyrant alone—especially one who had tormented and manipulated him all his life.”
“A decision few would’ve had the courage to make, my lady,” Treasurer Cathal interjected, dipping his head in respect. He was a short, portly man with an easy smile and eyes perpetually hidden behind thick-framed spectacles. He grinned at her before turning to the former naval captain. “Honestly, Farquar, is that not the loyalty one would desire of his wife?”
“I am speaking of pragmatism, not loyalty. We needed that marriage with Percival Comyn to settle the border disputes.”
“And what value would there be in a marriage if both Lady Riona and Percival had been executed?”
The lord did not falter. “The marriage was dissolvedafterthe tyrant was defeated, not before. The fact remains thatPercivalis alive, andLady Rionais here.”
The king held up a hand, and the advisors abruptly stopped bickering. “Treasurer Cathal, write to Lord Percival Comyn in Westwater and inquire about the state of his family’s troops. Perhaps he will be willing to dispatch some to help quell the unrest between our peoples. While you’re waiting for a response, arrange for shipments of food and money to the border villages, and see if our outposts have the numbers to increase patrols.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“As for you, Riona…” King Domhnall looked pointedly at her hand, and she stiffened, fighting the urge to tuck it under the table to hide the fact that she no longer wore a ring. “Lord Farquar is right. You and Percival survived the battle, and he has inherited the Comyn fortune and lands. Lord Winslow told me yesterday that it was you who convinced the High Priestess to annul your marriage. Why?”
Because he fell in love with another woman. Because I could never bear the pain of loving someone who did not love me back, and I would not condemn him to a life without Celeste. But she could not admit that—not to anyone save Amaris.
So instead, she held her king’s gaze and lied.
“The Comyn fortune is a fraction of what it once was. The allies Nicholas could not sway with promises or threats, he swayed with coin. I assure you, Percival is the only one who would have benefitted from our marriage,” she said, the words falling easily from her lips. “Since our vows were made under duress, the High Priestess agreed that they were not binding. I’m sorry I did not consult you before I made the decision, Your Majesty, but I thought only of the future of our kingdom.”
He regarded her with disappointment. “The decision was not yours to make. Duress or not, you have a duty to your country. My niece, it gives me no pleasure to tell you this so soon after your return, but you’ve left me no other option. I have written to the heirs of several powerful and influential thrones, and three royal suitors have expressed interest in pursuing a marriage alliance.”
The news struck Riona like a blow. She turned to her father and found guilt scrawled across his face. He had known. Of course he had; he was the Lord of Innislee. He had probably penned the letters on his brother’s behalf. Betrayal ignited within her. When she spoke, her voice came out low and cold. “I have been in this city for all of one day, and already, you are prepared to cast me out again.”
“Riona—”
