His eyes return to the landscape, and he blows out a breath through his teeth. “For all this drama, I sure hope the girl is beautiful.”
He’s baiting me, but I shrug. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what she looks like.
But Sev presses. “You aren’t the least bit curious?”
“No.”
“You must havesomeidea.”
“No.”
“You’re going to ask her to marry you! Not even aportrait—”
“Bleeding skies, Sev! I negotiated from the battlefield! You were right there half the time. I haven’t seen her.”
That shocks him into silence. But it shouldn’t. This is a political alliance, nothing more. The proposal is a formality. A marriage to unite our kingdoms and reassure the people of Incendar before another spring drought leaves more crops barren and more people hungry. I can protect Astranza’s soldiers in the war if King Theodore’s magic can make sure my own don’t starve. I’ve already heard reports of cellars andfood stores running empty, and while we don’t have these heavy snows, we have another month of winter left at least.
My advisers have also begun to report that rumors have turned darker in nature, too. People have begun to speculate that my fire magic is somehowcausingthe droughts.
It’s not, but I won’t deny it. The truth is worse.
My friend is still watching me. “So you don’t care atall?”
I keep my eyes on the frozen landscape and shake my head. Any girl who clings to the comforts of her palace in the midst of a war is probably spoiled and lazy—and likely downright conceited, if her eldest brother’s attitude is anything to go by. Princess Marjoriana didn’t appear for any of our negotiation meetings, and that says a lot about her opinion of Incendar. At least Prince Dane is familiar with a battlefield—though it didn’t take me long to figure out that he’s the type to sit safely in a tent and give orders from a distance.
My own father was always right in the thick of battle, so it’s never occurred to me to lead any differently. On the day I first met the crown prince of Astranza, I answered his summons fresh from a skirmish on the border, with blood on my knuckles and dirt clinging to my armor. Astranza’s forces had been involved as well, but Dane looked like he hadn’t seen a drop of bloodshed in his life. When I found him in his tent, he was sitting bored in a chair, without so much as a scuff on his polished boots. Before I could say a word, he looked down his nose at me, contempt plain on his face. “You there. Tell your king I am ready to receive him now.”
It’s a miracle we ever came to terms.
Honestly, it’s a miracle I didn’t shove him up against a tent post and remind him why they sought Incendar for an alliance atall.
But this is why I don’t care what the princess looks like. I remember the arrogance and disdain on her brother’s face, and I end up imagining how it will manifest in her own.
Fine. She can hate me if she likes. I’ve long known that marriage would be a matter of political convenience—if not outright strategy—so I learned to guard my heart. As long as she stays away from my sister,she can do whatever she wants. I’ll give the princess a corner of the palace where she can complain to the stars.
But every time I have that thought, I hate the tiny part ofmethat flickers with hope, that maybe she won’t be horrible and scornful. That maybe this union could lead to something more than political scheming.
That maybethere’s a part of her that wants this alliance to work as badly as I do.
When that flicker appears, I stamp it out, like smothering a fire before it can wreak havoc. I’ll offer hope to my people, but it’s dangerous to allow it to take root in myself.
I grit my teeth. “It doesn’t matter. I’m rarely in the palace. As long as she leaves Victoria alone, I don’t care what she’s like.”
Sev smiles. He can always see right through me. “You care alittle.”
I don’t smile back. I can’t afford to care. We both know what’s at stake.
Maybe it’s better if she’s spoiled and selfish and wants nothing to do with me. It’s not as if I’d be any kind of husband. My life is on the battlefield. Not the bedchamber.
When I don’t answer, the smile slips off his face, and Sev falls silent again. The only sounds are the creaking of saddle leather and the swish of hooves through slush and snow. My soldiers aren’t bickering now, but I’m not sure their silence is better. They’re likely as cold and irritated as I am, and it’s never wise to have unhappy men at your back.
In the distance, farmhouses and other structures are barely visible in the moonlight, but the first threads of sunlight appear on the horizon. I look out across the snow, wondering about that man, the way he said the people had been ordered to douse every flame. Not a single candle twinkles in a window.
Was that a spot of movement, though? I automatically pull a glove free.
But there’s no fire here. Magic won’t help us. I shorten my reins a few inches in case we need to bolt.
Sev follows my gaze. “I told you we should have brought the entire First Regiment.”
