Aren nodded at her, and Lara smiled warmly at the girl.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet.” Katarina gestured to the servants, who set out plates of cakes and poured small glasses of wine, which were set on trays before them.
“I know that your first concern is for your sister, Princess Ahnna, and I wish I had better news.” Katarina withdrew a small pouch from the pocket of her skirt and handed it to Aren.
With shaking hands, he upended the contents into his palm, staring at the familiar necklace of gold, black diamond, and emerald. Once his mother’s. Then Lara’s.
A gasp tore from Lara’s lips. “Oh God. I packed it for her in Bronwyn’s things. Ahnna had it with her.”
He couldn’t breathe.
“It was found among bones,” Katarina said. “The white lions had…disturbedthe remains, but this was found nearby.” Reaching down, she unwrapped an Ithicanian blade, and Aren nearly vomited at the sight of it. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Ahnna was dead. His sister was dead.
“We have the remains on our ship,” Katarina continued. “I have experts in my employ, and they indicated that there were signs of multiple stab wounds on the ribs and a blow to the skull. It was not the lions that killed her—a statement supported by the fact that my men found male remains in near proximity. He also shows signs of having succumbed to trauma inflicted by a blade.”
She reached back into her pocket and retrieved pieces of fabric. Badges of Harendellian military rank that were affixed to a uniform, and Aren recognized it as belonging to a major general.
“Who can say precisely what occurred,” Katarina said, handing them over. “But it seems James caught up to Ahnna and they fought, both of them eventually falling to their injuries. A loss for Ithicana, but also a heavy blow to Harendell. All of Amarid sings Ahnna’s name, for she has accomplished what we could not.”
Her words were little more than noise in Aren’s ears.
“Self-defense is not murder.” Lara’s voice was strangled, and he slowly turned to look at his wife, finding her white as a sheet.
“Fair. Although the Harendellians have already judged her guilty, and in your refusal to do the same, you have invited William’s wrath. They are prideful, the Harendellians, and the Ashfords most of all. They will not let this go. We will do our best to keep these deaths secret, but when James fails to return, William will blame either Ahnna or Amarid, depending on which serves Alexandra’s purpose.” Her lip curled with disdain. “The irony, of course, being that Ahnna rid her of Edward’s bastard.”
Not a bastard.The thought pushed through Aren’s grief, but his tongue still felt too thick to speak, a band of tension wrapping tight around his chest.
“I am so sorry for your loss,” Katarina said, then took a mouthful of cake, watching him as she chewed. “I can only imagine the pain in your heart, and you have my sympathy for the need to look past your own suffering to the practicality of facing the rising threat of Harendell.”
Except losing Ahnna was like losing a part of himself. His twin had been a constant since his first breath. Sister. Commander. Confidante. And she had died trying to protect all they both held dear. Yet he knew that if Ahnna was watching from the Great Beyond, she’d be shouting at him to keep fighting, and she’d never forgive him if he allowed Ithicana’s enemies to get the better of him in his grief.
Aren took a small sip of wine, burying the pain as deep as he could. “Let’s not pretend your motivations are that altruistic, Katarina. What do you want?”
The queen took another mouthful of cake, again watching him as she chewed. It reminded Aren of being watched by a rat. Swallowing, she dabbed her lips with a napkin and looked at Nina, who had sat quietly this entire time. “Would you play for us, my sweet?”
The girl picked up a lute and began to play a soft melody while staring off at the sea.
“Ithicana has always favored Harendell at Northwatch,” Katarina finally said. “Your alliance with them was strong, and you gave them priority in every possible way. It was the reason that I agreed to ally with Silas—he was willing to give me the terms I wanted once he controlled the bridge.”
Aren said nothing, only took another sip of wine. Expensive beyond measure, yet it tasted sour on his tongue.
“All nations covet the bridge, but a ruler’s greed is not sufficient motivation for an army of living, breathing men to fling themselves against Ithicana’s defenses. Ahnna, however unwittingly, has given the Harendellians sufficient motivation,” she continued. “If they go to war, it will be for keeps, and at the end of it, William will be Master of the Bridge. This bodes poorly for Amarid, for of a surety, Harendell will either deny my merchants access to the bridge or extort them with horrific tolls. Worse still, once they have defeated you, they will turn their eyes on the Lowlands. Since their marriage-alliance with Cardiff is soon to be cemented with an heir, Amarid will stand no chance against them. From my perspective, it behooves me tosupport Ithicana in its fight, because if Harendell is occupied with you, they will not come for the Lowlands.”
“Support how?” Lara’s voice was toneless, and it was only because he knew her so well that Aren heard the distress within it. “It will be many years before you can rebuild your navy after the losses you took in your alliance with my father.”
“Oh, I will not risk an all-out war with Harendell,” Katarina replied. “However, I will covertly support Ithicana by supplying weapons and steel. Everything your warriors need to keep up your resistance.”
“You’d have us do all the fighting while you sit back and sip your wine?” Lara demanded.
“It may be water that I’m forced to sip, because funding your side of the war will take a terrible toll on my coffers. But yes, Lara. It will be Ithicanians on the front lines.” Katarina took another mouthful of cake. “You should try a piece, Aren. My pastry chef is the best in the north, if I do say so myself.”
Ithicana had run through its supply of grain, so his people didn’t have bread, never mind cake, and despite not having much of a sweet tooth, Aren took a slice. The frosting tasted of oranges and ginger.
“May I have a piece of cake, Grandmother?” Nina asked, pausing in her playing.
“As many as you like, dearest. We have plenty.”
