Teryn’s father smiled down at his mistress. “Of course, darling.” Then, turning back to Teryn, he added, “We will make this work, Teryn, I promise you. If there’s a way for you to win the Heart’s Hunt, I’ll find it.”
Teryn tried to give his father what he hoped was a confident smile, but he’d learned years ago not to put much weight in his father’s promises. Not that his father didn’t try. He did. He was steadfast and tenacious when it came to those he loved. Often, though, love wasn’t enough.
No, if Teryn wanted to see this ridiculous Hunt through, he’d have to do it himself. The question was how. He was a skilled hunter, so that wouldn’t be an issue. He’d gone on royal hunts since he was old enough to walk. He’d felled his first beast at age ten. It was the same year he not only developed a keen love for the spear—his weapon of choice—but found Berol. Ever since, he’d spent his summers honing his craft, learning to hunt larger and rarer beasts. But never a legendary beast. This wasn’t the age of unicorns and dragons. This was the age of reason. Something Princess Mareleau clearly lacked.
Annabel gave Larylis a casual wave as her only acknowledgment of her son before the couple left the balcony. That wasn’t unusual behavior for Annabel. She’d borne two more children after Larylis—both boys—and had sent them away to boarding school as early as she could. Teryn could surmise it was to keep them out from under the queen’s ire, but he’d always thought Annabel seemed far more interested in being a lover than a mother.
Teryn fed Berol the rest of the duck and stroked a finger over the top of her head.
Larylis came up beside him. “I don’t know how you pet that thing without fearing loss of a finger.”
“Fear is for the weak,” Teryn said in jest. “Besides, you’ve petted her plenty of times before.”
“Yes, with a healthy dose of fear.” Larylis reached out to lightly scritch the back of the falcon’s neck. Berol extended her wings and ruffled her feathers, making him jump back. Then, stuffing his hands in his pockets, he leaned against the balustrade. “So…how are you really feeling about all of this?”
Teryn ponded his answer. In truth, he was frustrated. Irritated. Absolutely perplexed. And yet he was resigned to do what needed to be done. His kingdom was running out of time to repay their debt to Cartha. If they waited much longer, the bank would escalate their efforts from sending pirates to hiring mercenaries. The latter wouldn’t simply raid their trade ships. They’d collect Menah’s debt in lives.
The most reasonable solution was to wed Mareleau. Her dowry would be enough to settle their debt with the bank. If his engagement with the princess fell through, well, they’d be left with very few options. Sure, another marriage alliance could be made, but what were the chances another kingdom would be willing to risk allying with them? He knew it could take years to draw up an agreeable contract.
The Kingdom of Menah didn’t have years. Not where the Bank of Cartha was concerned.
With his brother’s question still hanging unanswered between them, Teryn planted a crooked grin over his lips. “You want to know how I’m really feeling? I feel like today has been the most humiliating spectacle since we visited that mummer’s troupe. Remember that? They had us played by literal dogs while Father’s impersonator went about humping a woman dressed as a sow.”
“I’m serious,” Larylis said, although he couldn’t hide his laugh. “Hunting fae creatures, competing against two other princes for a woman’s hand that you’ve already been promised…it’s a lot to do for someone you don’t love.”
There was trepidation in his tone, which brought Teryn’s attention to his brother’s face. That same pained look he’d noticed earlier had returned. “Are you truly concerned about me doing too much for a woman I don’t love? Or for her because I don’t love her?”
Larylis stiffened.
“Wait.” Teryn took a step closer to his brother, startling Berol, who sidled down the balustrade. “Do you…have feelings for her?”
“Of course not,” Larylis rushed to say, pushing off from the rail to straighten. Despite his words, there was a sudden flush in his cheeks. “I don’t?—”
“You knew her. Back when you were a ward to Lord Ulrich. Did the two of you?—”
“No, Teryn, it isn’t what you think.” He shifted from foot to foot, then slouched to the side. “Oh, all right. We kissed.”
Teryn’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Youkissed? Are you telling me I’m engaged to someone you’ve kissed? And that you’ve never found it pertinent to mention until now?”
“It was three years ago. I was sixteen. It meant nothing.” His voice dipped with a note of regret, one that wasn’t lost on Teryn.
“Larylis, if you have feelings for her?—”
“I don’t.” This time his tone was firm. Certain. “You know I dislike her.”
“Yes, well, I hadn’t known you disliked her after having had your tongue in her mouth.” Teryn’s last word quavered with a chuckle. That was when he realized something. He wasn’t mad at his brother. Disturbed, perhaps. A little indignant that Larylis hadn’t trusted Teryn enough to tell him the truth until now. But Teryn was neither angry nor jealous.
Which probably wasn’t a good thing. Not where his future romantic prospects were concerned. However, Teryn had always known he wouldn’t marry for love. Unlike his father, he was determined to do what was right for his kingdom. He’d stay true to his word. His duty.
Unless…
“Promise me you don’t have even the slightest feelings for Princess Mareleau. Or…if you do, just…just be honest.” Teryn held his breath as Larylis stood frozen, shoulders tense. He didn’t know what kind of answer he expected, or what he’d do if Larylis did in fact harbor a secret affection for his fiancée. Part of him wanted to hear his brother proclaim a deep love for the woman, to beg him not to marry her. Teryn knew Larylis couldn’t wed Mareleau, though. She was a princess and Larylis was illegitimate. Even so, it would be the one thing that could set Teryn free, the one thing that would fix his heart firmly against the unwanted match for good.
And, as a result, would send their kingdom into further peril than it was already in.
Finally, Larylis’ posture relaxed. “I have a lot of feelings about Princess Mareleau, and I guarantee none of them are good.” He punched Teryn lightly on the chest. “I feel bad for you. That’s all.”
Teryn wasn’t sure if he believed his brother, but the sense of calm settling in his gut reminded him that any other answer would have brought nothing but turmoil. “I feel bad for me too,” he said with a smirk. “She must be a terrible kisser.”
