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“Smile and wave at them, Princess,” Fenyx ordered me, leaning closer to my ear in a horrible reminder of Draven.
I tried to tilt my face away, but he pulled me tighter against him, his hand slipping down my thigh, caressing me through the silk.
“Let go of me, Fenyx,” I said, still smiling. “Or I’ll call for one of my brother’s guards.”
His handsome face crinkled into a smile so perfect that, by rights, it ought to have been beautiful. But on Fenyx’s face, it only served as a reminder of how corrupted this golden knight really was. “Go right ahead. Who exactly do you think they serve?”
His fingers were fiddling with the fabric of my gown, twisting and pulling as he lifted the layers. And then he was viciously pinching me through the dress—so hard, I knew I would have bruises later.
I willed myself not to react.
I had been through the fucking Blood Rise. What was a pinch from an overgrown bully?
Still, the feel of his hands on my skin, even through the layers of fabric, had me breaking out in a cold sweat.
I was a spy, yes, but was I really supposed to tolerate everything Fenyx dealt? It was taking everything I had not to strike him down in a torrent of flames.
I was doing this for Kaye. For Camelot. I didn’t need flames. I needed restraint.
“We’ll be married soon, sweetling,” Fenyx promised, moving his hands to my ass and giving me another vicious pinch. “Then your body will be entirely at my disposal.”
I hadn’t tried to talk to Arthur about Fenyx’s maniacal marriage proposal yet. Mostly because I was afraid Fenyx was correct and that Arthur had already given his full approval for the marriage. After all, my brother hadn’t cared about my opinion before when he’d been planning to let Florian have me.
“Once the tournament ends, I’ve asked your brother if we can begin plans for the next celebration,” Fenyx murmured.
Suddenly, I understood there was a time limit on my mission. For I had no plans to be present at any marriage ceremony to Fenyx.
In the last week, I had done my best to gather all of the information I could, delivering it to my uncle but also to Tyre—whenever I’d had the opportunity to speak with the High Priest without Fenyx lurking nearby.
Most of what I’d gleaned was probably useless. Changes in the guard rotation schedule. A few overheard comments about troop movements from some of the nobles in the Great Hall. Observations about Arthur’s daily routine.
But I had also passed on what Orcades had mentioned about Kaye—that Arthur was bringing him back for some other purpose. And not necessarily a benevolent one.
The problem was, what could Galahad and the others really do about that? They were in no position to protect Kaye. All I could do was keep my eyes and ears open and plan to protect him myself with everything I had, as soon as he arrived.
And if Fenyx dared to go near my little brother... Well, then I really wouldn’t hesitate to turn him into a puddle of melted flesh.
Unsnapping the clasps holding my train, it fell to the ground as I yanked myself away. I glimpsed a look of surprise in Fenyx’s eyes. Evidently he had underestimated my strength. I knew I had made that mistake myself in the past. I wasn’t planning to make it again.
Hoping Fenyx wouldn't turn his annoyance upon the little page boys who were now standing there open-mouthed, I marched up the steps of the pavilion swiftly and took in the scene at the top.
Arthur was already seated. His head rested on one hand as he looked out with boredom over the crowd below.
Orcades sat serenely beside him, her hands resting over her belly. She hadn’t noticed me yet.
I could hear Fenyx's footsteps pounding up the steps behind me. Before he could reach the top and try to dictate where I sat, I quickly slid into the empty seat next to Orcades. Conveniently it was also the last one in the row on that side of the pavilion.
As Fenyx clambered up the last step, his face red and angry, I shot him a look of triumph. He glared, then stomped to the open seat on Arthur’s other side.
Beside me, Orcades was not paying the slightest bit of attention to either of us. Instead, her face had turned pained. She arched back in her chair a little and groaned, her hand caressing her swollen stomach.
I watched in fascination as her belly shifted beneath her hand. Something was moving inside of her. The child.
“Does it hurt?” I leaned over to whisper. “Do you need anything?”
She looked at me as if registering my presence for the first time, then shook her head and forced a smile. “False labor, it’s called. I’m told it will happen more frequently as my time nears.” She looked down at her pulsing stomach. “The babe is very active.”
“Can you sense anything about it?” I asked, keeping my voice low so Arthur wouldn’t hear.
