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“You shouldn’t talk at all.”
“No, sheshouldtalk,” Helena said, forcing calm into her voice. “Let her take it back. She knows better than this. Such a false statement would ruin her.”
Mareleau lifted her chin with defiance. “I won’t take it back.”
Verdian opened his mouth, but Helena rushed to him and put a hand on his arm. “Let us not say a word more. Our daughter needs some time to contemplate—”
“There’s nothing to contemplate. I am with child. Larylis is the father.”
“Nonsense,” Helena barked, her composure shattering into fury. “Your moon cycle—”
“My moon cycle is late. Ask my maids about my laundry. They will confirm it. Larylis and I conceived the night of the Heart’s Hunt.”
Larylis stepped forward. “Mareleau, stop. Please.”
Helena shook her head, setting loose a graying brown curl from her towering updo. “That’s not possible. I made sure to keep the two of you separate.”
Mareleau shrugged. “You think I don’t know how to navigate the servants’ passages?”
Verdian’s lips peeled back from his teeth. “You’ve ruined yourself!”
Mareleau didn’t respond to her father’s statement. “If you’d like proof of further indiscretions, just ask Lurel. She left me and Larylis alone in the drawing room adjacent to the library after the war meeting. I threatened her to keep it a secret.”
“Seven gods, Mareleau,” Larylis said as he ran a hand over his face. His shoulders drooped with fatigue. Or was it remorse?
Teryn realized he still hadn’t moved. Still hadn’t spoken. His blood stirred with a sensation he’d grown accustomed to over the past weeks. A desperation to not be idle. To fill every possible silence with a flutter of activity. To work, to strive, to fix.
This…he could fix this too. Before it was too late.
Teryn cleared his throat. It took a few attempts to find his voice. “Do you love her, Larylis?”
His brother opened and closed his mouth, eyes darting between Mareleau and Teryn. “We didn’t…”
He repeated his question, tone firm. “Do you love her? The truth.”
Larylis’ throat bobbed. “Yes.”
Teryn nodded. “Then you should marry her.”
“You don’t get to make that choice,” Verdian said. “She’s my daughter and she will not marry that—”
Teryn cut him off before he could say the wordbastardagain. “Why? My brother has been named an Alante. He’s a prince. You were willing to see him wed the Princess of Khero. Why should he not marry the Princess of Selay?”
“The Princess of Khero isn’t my daughter. Aveline’s kingdom has no other contenders for the throne. Prince Larylis will suit fine for our purposes there. Here…” Verdian shook his head. “He does not have the respect required to allow my daughter to keep my throne after my death. Unlike you, he can offer her nothing else. He cannot merge our two kingdoms, nor can he make her a queen.”
Teryn’s stomach sank. As much as he hated to admit it, Verdian was right. Mareleau was Verdian’s heir. His only child. He wanted his daughter made queen at any cost. Kept safe at any cost. And Larylis…well, he may have been given the Alante name, but he was still only a prince.
“It humbles me greatly to say this,” Verdian uttered through his teeth, “but you're her only hope now. Should you find it in your heart to take my daughter as your bride and bury this scandal—”
“How dare you suggest such a thing.” Mareleau’s voice quaked as tears gathered in her eyes. “I love Larylis. I'm pregnant withhischild.”
Verdian’s voice took on an empty quality. “If Teryn agrees to marry you, no one need know of your shame. Otherwise, you are ruined. You will neither be queen nor my heir.”
“If I’m so ruined, why not just let me marry the man I love? Disinherit me. Make one of my uncles your heir. Do whatever you must, just—”
“I will not reward you for what you’ve done!” Verdian’s voice boomed from wall to wall.
Another silence fell, and in its wake Teryn felt that familiar itch return. To move. To act. To fix. He opened and closed his fists as he worked up the courage to do what must be done.
