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Kettling’s commander seemed startled when I rode out to greet him, the king’s guard at my side. Why wasn’t Adley delivering this message? He dared ask, confirming all I needed to know about where his loyalties lie. I removed him from the ranks and kept removing officers until I found one I was confident had no connection or clue as to what Adley was planning. He was quick to rally them.

Adley’s eyes flare with shock and rage—at being outmaneuvered—but he smooths that over. “Wonderful news. And will you be following with Cirilea’s army in the morn?”

To leave my city unguarded? “My army and I will leave as soon as justice has been served, and we will march east, to deal with Islor’s other enemies. Guards.” The command is soft, calm.

But they move as one, securing their targets and hauling them before me.

“What is the meaning of this!” Adley jerks against the two soldiers who secure either side of him, bringing him in line with Lords Stoll and Spire, and their respective wives.

A single drop of water would reverberate in this room right now, as the assembly looks on in various stages of shock. Saoirse’s face is as white as freshly fallen snow.

I step down until I am on even footing with them. “Did you honestly think I would not learn of your treason?” I raise my voice so everyone can hear. “These eastern lords have been plotting to seize the rich lands east of the plains and establish a new realm. Lord Adley fancies himself a king.”

Gasps sound.

“That is preposterous!” he exclaims. “Why would I seek this when my daughter is to be queen?”

“I asked myself that same question. But tell me something, Adley … what did you offer King Cheral in exchange for the troops that now move through my lands?”

“How did—” He catches himself, but it’s too late. He’s tipped his hand too far.

Bexley’s source was right. I owe her my thanks.

“Do not worry. I’ve made plenty of room in the dungeons for you all. Get them out of my sight.”

The guards drag them away.

No one else moves. No one utters a sound.

Saoirse stands alone in the front row now. When my attention lands on her, she rushes forward, reaching for my forearm. “Atticus, I did not know of their deceit.” She shakes her head, her long, sleek locks shifting like a curtain. “Truly. I would never be a party to dividing a country I am to rule with you.”

“It wouldn’t make much sense, would it.” I step forward, drawing a fingertip along her chin. “By the way, how is that book?” I whisper, as if we have a secret.

She blinks.

“Master Sicily’s account?”

“Oh!” Her face lights up with understanding. “Enthralling.”

I swallow my disgust and move in closer. “Did you enjoy the chapter on the battle in the plains, when the Kier raiders sailed in to attempt a raid of our harvest?”

“Oh, yes.” She hums, stealing a furtive glance around to see everyone watching. This is what she’s always wanted—for us to stand in front of the assembly and fawn over each other as Zander and Romeria once did. “You were so brave.”

I slide the pad of my thumb across her lip. “How so?”

She shrugs. “Just in your command.”

“I did not command in that battle. I was not even there.”

She falters. “I must have been mistaken, then. You’ve fought in so many battles.”

“Or you have not even cracked the spine on that book. But perhaps there was another reason for you to visit that section of the library that day.”

Her mouth gapes.

Not that I had any doubt about what Gracen told me, but there is my answer.

I step away from her and the charade. “Let it be known that Lady Saoirse of Kettling was behind the tainting of my tributary, in an attempt to influence me to move our nuptials forward and secure her position on the throne before I could discover what the east has been plotting. A very reliable witness came forward to inform me of her crime. I can only imagine what else she planned for me.” I nod toward the guards. “Put her in the tower.”

“But … but … you cannot do this!” she shrieks. “I am your betrothed!”

“I don’t think it’s going to work out between us.” Relief overwhelms me the moment our engagement is officially ended.

Saoirse looks around as the guards drag her away, as if searching for someone to speak up on her behalf.

But no one wants to draw any attention to themselves.

“As I am sure you all can appreciate, these times are perilous, and Cirilea must be protected at all costs. Therefore, the gates have been sealed until further notice. I will not be granting anyone access to the nymphaeum on Hudem. All celebration is canceled, and I strongly suggest you refrain from taking a vein until your tributary can be tested and marked.”

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