“And if he won’t?”
“I have his wife and his heir in my possession,” Ronan replied. “I will not give them up until he gives me Alexandra’s head.”
Fear was choking James now, for his uncle’s plan made all toomuch sense if one cared not for the fate of Ithicana. “And what about Katarina? She’s just as guilty.”
“Once Alexandra is dead, together, William and I will move against Amarid.”
“And return Ithicana’s sovereignty?”
The wind blew over them, stealing the warmth from his flesh as he waited for his uncle to respond. Finally, Ronan said, “You’ll still be in your brother’s good graces given you won’t have tried to take his crown, so with luck, he’ll give you Ithicana. Which means your woman will be queen.”
How had it circled back around to this?
“I don’t want to rule Ithicana,” James snarled. “I don’t belong there! You and my father wanted me to be king. That was your plan. I’m finally willing, and now you refuse to back me?”
His uncle gripped his shoulders. “Jamie, if I had my way, you’d sit on the Twisted Throne. It was a goal Edward and I shared, for you are a better man than your brother by far. But if Caly says it will not be, then it will not be, and I will not take my people to war for a dream that was not destined to become reality. Go back to Ithicana to fight and die at your woman’s side if that is what you must do. Better yet, take her and go somewhere no one knows your name. Ithicana will fade into history, but you’ll be alive.”
Giving James’s shoulders a squeeze, King Ronan of Cardiff gestured for his guards to follow and then disappeared inside the castle, leaving James with only the frosty wind for company.
A sudden wave of exhaustion fell over him, and James sat with his back to the stone wall, elbows resting on his knees.
He’d failed her. He’d fucking failed her.
It wouldn’t be long until the Maridrinians reached out and made a deal with the Amaridians, and with Alexandra’s attention fully fixed on the south, Katarina wouldn’t risk trying to hide from her that Ithicana had fallen. And William…James wanted to believe that, if given the chance, his brother would hear the truth about Alexandra andturn on her, but if her schemes had won him the bridge? James did not think that William would put a noose around Alexandra’s neck for the sake of Lestara or his unborn child, because what need had he of trade with the north if he had Ithicana’s bridge under his control? He was more likely to take his bride back by force, or to just divorce her and marry someone new.
Why couldn’t Ronan see that this was no solution? Why didn’t he understand that doing nothing while Ithicana fell only meant that he’d stand alone with the two queens turned on him? Why didn’t he realize that he was only delaying the inevitable? Why was he allowing visions and prophecy andfucking nonsenseto make his decisions for him?
It didn’t matter. Ronan was not the answer, which meant James had to find another path.
The solution came to him like a punch to the stomach. It was time he remembered that he was Edward Ashford’s son, which meant scheming was in his blood.
Going back into the castle, James returned to his uncle’s study. “I’m leaving. I’m going to Verwyrd to try to talk sense into William.”
“Alexandra will have you killed the moment she discovers you have returned. She knows you are a threat to William’s reign,” his uncle replied. “Better to return to Ithicana and your woman, no?”
“If I fail Ahnna, there is no point in me going back to her,” James replied. “I need two good horses. Time is of the essence.”
“If that is your decision, I won’t stop you.” His uncle rose to his feet and went to the door. “Have two swift horses saddled and supplied. My nephew rides for Verwyrd tonight.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Waynne said, bowing low before departing.
“I would say my farewells to Lestara before I go,” James said. “Given it will be some time before I see her again.”
His uncle shrugged. “After you tell your brother the truths about his mother, you might also give him my terms: If he wishes to have his wife and child returned to him, he must send me Alexandra’s head.”
“I’ll give him the message.” Bowing to his uncle, James left the room. A servant woman guided him to Lestara’s chambers and carried on down the hallway.
James lifted his fist to knock, only for the door to open, Caly standing in the entrance. The queen of Cardiff gave him a long stare, then barked, “You’ve a visitor, girl. Wake yourself.”
Without saying anything to James, Caly left the room. James shut the heavy door behind him.
Lestara sat in her bed, the lamp on the bedside table casting a soft glow. “James?”
A life in the Sky Palace had made him wary of listeners, so he crossed the room to the bed and kept his voice low. “If you had to, could you ride and ride swiftly?”
His cousin’s eyes narrowed. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid. But why would I have to?”
She wasn’t stupid. Was nowhere close to it, which meant manipulating her would require cleverness and as much adherence to the truth as possible. “Alexandra murdered my father. Ahnna was just a scapegoat.”
