My nails bite into the palms of my hands so hard I’m sure I’ve drawn blood. All I know is I can’t breathe, and I want toscream.But while pure chaos takes over my mind, I maintain my forged expression of passive acceptance.
I won’t let him see beneath the facade. I won’t let him have more power over me.
“As the Eagle commands,” I say with an incline of my head.
I don’t miss the flash of disappointment in his black eyes. Of course, the sick bastard wanted it to hurt.
I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
“Come now,Princess Aella,” he tuts, “Aren’t you curious why?”
“Why?” I force the word from my lips, almost wincing at the vicious cadence to it, but—fortunately—he’s all too eager to explain and doesn’t appear to notice.
“You will compete in Eretria’s Royal Trials to earn the position of the prince’s bride,” he begins, his gaze sharp and calculating. “But this isn’t just about you—or even the Crown. The Sorrows need true influence within Eretria’s court. Their kingdom has long been a thorn in our side, obstructing trade routes and refusing negotiations. And now, with whispers of their weapon, we can’t afford to remain in the dark.
“If you succeed, you won’t simply become a bride; you’ll be our eyes and ears at the heart of their power. Every whisper, every secret, every plan they hatch will flow back to us. This isn’t a game of romance—it’s a calculated move for control.”
My throat constricts at the smugness of his tone. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry as sand. I’m seized by the sudden desire to lunge athim, snatch his blade, and shred the satisfied expression from his face. To paint the manuscript-lined wall with the crimson of his blood.
I breathe deeply and blink the violent vision away.
“What of my decoy?” I ask.
“She is being dealt with.” Something sinister gleams in his gaze, and I shiver. “Now, have I made myself clear?”
“Of course, Eagle. I’ll do my best.”
“You will notdo your best.You will win.”
The edges of my vision blur before slamming back into sharp focus, just to watch any hope of a future crumble in the wake of his expectations. Winning would not only mean I would be trapped in a life at the side of a foreign prince. It would mean being the Eagle’s puppet on a set of long strings.
A fate there would be no escape from.
“You won’t disappoint me, Aella.” His cold voice cuts through my racing thoughts, but it’s the next words that shred through my mental defenses. “You remember what happens when you disappoint me, don’t you?”
Images invade my mind before I can strengthen my defenses.
Shattered planks of a boat…bubbles floating to the surface of a dark, hungry canal…a too-small hand reaching…and then gone.
The air leaves my lungs in a shuddering exhale. I blink rapidly to clear my vision, nervously twisting the ring on my finger to help center myself.
“I’m glad you are still clear on what’s at stake. I would hate for any harm to befall our dear Nyssa. She is a promising Songbird, after all.” His smile is as malicious as his words, sharp teeth glinting in the candlelight. “If you succeed, I will allow her to stay there—you will need a handmaiden or two.”
“That is most gracious, Eagle.”
“Dismissed.”
I lower my head once more, forcing myself to turn and walk from the room with a measured stride. All I want is to run. To scream my rage at the lonely moon in the sky.
But I won’t.I can’t.
The Eagle’s message is obvious. If I fail, Nyssa will pay the price.
If she is the cage he chooses to trap me with, I will gladly stay prisoner for the rest of my existence. Anything to keep her safe.
I push the fury to the back of my mind, bury it in the shadows that linger there, and lock it away where no one else will ever find it.
Hopefully, not even me.
