Dane strides between maids and footmen who scurry to yield a path, and then he shoves past the soldiers without paying them a glance. His face is like thunder, and he takes hold of my upper arm like he’s going to give me a good shake. He’s so rough and so harsh, and it’s so completely contrary to the way the soldier just did it. His fingers dig into my bicep, and I make a small sound before I can help it.
Dane’s eyes blaze into mine. “You will return to your quarters atonce,” he hisses under his breath. “You’re lucky you were only seen by—”
“Let her go.”
It’s the soldier with the dark blond hair and the velvet accent, butthere’s nothing quiet about his tone now. He probably has no idea who my brotheris, or he wouldn’t be ordering the crown prince to do anything at all.
Dane ignores him anyway. His fingers squeeze into my arm again, and I give another little squeak of pain.
“Now,” he growls at me. “And do not show your face until I—”
“Dane,” says the soldier. “Let hergo.”
When the man uses my brother’s given name instead of his title, some of the servants gasp.Inearly gasp, because I don’t know anyone who’d dare.
Dane’s entire expression ices over, and he inhales sharply, likely preparing to excoriate the soldier for his insolence—or possibly to call for guards to have him dragged out of here.
But when he turns his head, my brother simply...freezes. His mouth works for a moment, no sound coming out.
“Now,” says the soldier. His expression has turned cold and hard, his voice full of promised violence if Dane doesn’t obey.
To my absolute shock, my brother does. His hand slips away from my arm, and his mouth clamps shut. It leaves them glaring at each other, until I wonder if there’s any chance for an alliance, because these two men are going to start a war right here. The silence in the room is thick enough to wade through, and it ticks on for a full minute.
The soldier with black hair tied back in a knot clears his throat. His expression is a fascinating combination of resignation and amusement.
“Your Highness,” he says to my brother, his tone dry. He has a similar accent, but his voice is a little lower, a little rougher. “As you may recall, I am Captain Sevin Zale, of the First Regiment of the Incendrian Army. Our herald has been detained, so I have the honor of presenting His Majesty, King Maddox Kyronan.”
I nearly yelp. I’m glad I had all the practice with the seamstress and her pins, because I’m able to keep perfectly still. I taste copper, and I realize I’ve bitten my tongue. I need to slow down my breathing or I’m not going to be able to hear anything else.
But I have no idea how to proceed.Thisis the king? I’m not supposedto meet him until later, and definitely not like...likethis. Will he remember me, or will this interaction be forgotten?
I lock my eyes on the floor, so all I see are their boots. First my brother’s, polished and shining without a buckle out of place. Then the soldiers’—well, the king’s and the captain’s—which are full of scuffs and scrapes and mismatched stitching where they’ve been repaired. Much like the rest of their armor, really.
I never would have taken either of these men for royalty.
“Your Majesty,” my brother is saying. He must have recovered from his shock, because any harshness has been erased from his tone. “Forgive me. We did not realize you would be traveling ahead of your party. Welcome to—”
“Enough.” The king says this like he’s had his fill of my brother’s nonsense—and it’s shocking.No onetalks to Dane like that. I want to look up, to see what expression is on this man’s face, but I don’t dare. I’m desperately hoping he wasn’t looking at me too closely before. Because as cruel as my brother has been right now, he’ll be worse later in the privacy of my chambers.
The king’s fingers catch my wrist again, just as gentle as before. “Did he hurt you?”
I snap my gaze up. Those golden eyes hold mine.
He’s definitely going to remember.
“Of course I didn’t hurt her,” Dane says immediately.
But the king doesn’t look away from me. “I’m asking her.”
There’s a note in his voice that nearly makes my breath catch, and I can feel the strength hiding behind the softness of his grip.Thisis the man who sets armies on fire and cuts them into pieces? The man who starves his people? The man who’s rumored to burn men to ash with nothing more than a touch?
And then I realize that his hand is touching my bare skin, and just like before, his fingers are warm despite the chill in the air.
A shiver rolls through me, and I draw back.
I watch the movement register in his eyes, and he frowns. “Forgive me.” His hand drops. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You took me by surprise.” My heart keeps skipping along, but I square my shoulders again, the way I did before I knew who he was. “I’m not afraid of you.”
