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Ber’s gut clenched, but it would be useless of his stomach to revolt. After Aony had delivered Tes to Toren and abandoned her with such callousness, there wasn’t a chance in the gods’ own realm that his brother would betroth his daughter to the man. Toren wouldn’t agree to such a marriage contract with anyone, for that matter. It wasn’t in his nature.
“Do you worry about such a move, then?” Ber asked carefully.
“Aony would be a wretched king,” Ilduin said. “I only wish to urge you to keep your eye on him. You insulted him mightily at dinner last night. He won’t let that pass.”
The duke’s existence was an insult, but Ber kept his mouth closed on that one. It was better not to offend the man’s sensibilities. Ilduin might not be ready to make a move against the king, but there was more than one way to be an ally. Since Aony had turned on him, Ber could use all the help he could get.
“Thank you for the warning,” Ber said, forming his lips into a polite smile. “If you note any signs of treason from the duke, I urge you to let me know. He may not like it, but I am officially the crown prince. He should beware of going too far.”
“Agreed, Your Highness.” Ilduin tipped his head in a slight bow. “Thank you for indulging me. I’ll leave you to your breakfast preparations.”
Owein waited until the lord was several paces away before he spoke. “Fascinating.”
“Isn’t it?” Ber agreed.
If Duke Aony was doing enough in the background to get Ilduin’s notice, the plot was moving faster than anticipated. Aony didn’t need a wedding to assert a claim to the Centoi throne—his great-grandmother had been a princess from theBreren line—but he appeared to be confident enough of success to have already formed such a deep ambition.
With Tes still absent, Ber needed to find a backup plan. And fast.
“You know, the duke has a younger sister,” Owein said. “Almost old enough to be brought to court. A marriage to her might satisfy the king. Even the suggestion would give Aony pause.”
The thought of touching another woman made Ber’s skin burn with revulsion, but he couldn’t protest. Not even Owein, who he almost trusted, was aware that Tes was alive. And after last night’s conversation with the king, the suggestion made even more sense. Still.Almost old enough.
Gods, he hated this place.
But he could only nod. “I’ll consider the idea.”
He wouldn’t do it—but he would keep it in mind as a threat.
Chapter 5
Undertones
There was something off about the streets Tes passed through. Though really, it was the people more than anything physical. Heads were a little lower and shoulders more hunched. And she couldn’t help but note the sharpness of the glances cast not just her way but at any who passed by. The average townsperson shouldn’t be so nervous of newcomers.
She expected the suspicion to ease a little as she left the area around the portal where travelers generally arrived, but even when she became part of the standard crowds wandering the marketplace, she felt a palpable tension. Thin lips and hands resting on daggers. Strained and shortened bargaining over goods. It was clear to anyone paying attention that the people were uneasy.
Was this because of Ber, or had her father managed to become worse?
The king was skilled at hiding blatant cruelty beneath stern rules and unyielding expectations. But Ber had been his heir for nearly a year in her absence, and his dark deceit could have influenced her father into even harsher actions. If he’d becomemore obvious in his twisted punishments, it would explain the tension here.
Unlike High King Toren and his spouses, King Ryenil ruled on fear more than love. Yet he was wise enough not to take his reputation too far. At a certain point, terror almost always morphed into rebellion, where a milder dread could settle into reluctant respect. Neither were ideal to her mind, but the former was far likelier to lead to disaster than the latter.
Perhaps that was why soldiers were everywhere. More than one watched Tes stroll down the street, and so she made a point of stopping to browse at the stalls. Carefully, of course. She touched nothing, her hands always visible at her sides to avoid any accusations of theft. The last thing she needed was the attention of an overzealous guard.
Eventually, she did buy herself a hand pie and a cheap clay mug full of watery tea. Neither were particularly satisfying, but eating gave her something to do as she meandered toward her destination, a small workshop near the western gate. Many of the craftspeople providing goods to the palace favored that area, since the gate was closest to the servants’ entrance where their wares would be delivered.
Cairi’s shop also bordered the greater marketplace. The artisan mage created light globes, which lasted so long that she would never have enough business in the palace alone. She kept a shop to sell a variety of globes, from the simple to the elaborate, and once a week or so, she checked all the globes in the palace and provided necessary replacements.
They’d met by chance during one of those checks. Tes had been posing as a maid, hoping to be assigned close enough to court to overhear the nobles’ whispered discussions, but she’d been stuck dusting a row of barely used sitting rooms. She’d been so startled when Cairi entered the room that she’d knocked one of the light globes from its stand with the duster.
Between cleaning the mess and staying around to assist as Cairi repaired the globe, Tes had somehow managed to form a solid acquaintance with the mage. Over several centuries, it had become true friendship. True enough that when Cairi had happened upon her in her role as princess, the mage had recognized her at once.
She was one of the few to know Tes’s true mission.
“Excuse me,” Tes said to a bored-looking merchant sitting at a booth full of glassware. “Could you please tell me where I could buy light globes?”
The man eyed her plain dress. “For yourself or your employer?”
