One thing for sure: if he kept staring at his new husband, he’d end up back in bed, ignoring his duties. Staying might be nice, but he needed to bathe, dress, check on the children, and get to work finding where the missing grain stores and livestock went.
His wedding finery felt soft against his skin, and he dressed in the scant light from outside.
Draylon’s a murderer,Yarif told himself. Now wasn’t that a conundrum to work out in his mind? Yes, he’d done better than some abusive old duke who only wanted status or a pretty plaything. Who knew precisely what Draylon wanted?
The guards said nothing as Yarif slipped into the hallway. Had they heard anything through the door? Or were these even the same two as last night? Yarif didn’t recognize them, but then again, the whole previous day seemed a blur.
Yarif arrived at his rooms, wanting nothing more than to bathe, then see the twins. “I’m not to be disturbed,” he told his guards, quickly adding, “except for King Draylon.” As he didn’t see any of the men who usually stood guard in his room, perhaps he really could have a few moments of privacy. Yarif closed the door behind him, turned around, and stopped. The familiar woman he’d seen at the banquet waited in his sitting room. Commander Illa Trandores.
Yarif’s heart stuttered, every fiber of his being screaming,Danger!
He did his best to keep his voice steady. “Commander Illa? What are you doing here? How did you get in?” He’d given strict orders that no one except for the twins enter his room without his permission.
And now Draylon.
Illa rose from Yarif’s writing desk, not trying to hide that she’d been through personal papers—now scattered about on the surface. How dare she! “Took you long enough,” she sneered. “Did you have fun spreading your legs for the enemy?”
What?Sheinvaded Yarif’s rooms and dared to take offense?
“Why are you here?” Yarif barely managed not to growl. He glanced above the fireplace. Oh, right. They’d taken his rapier, and though Draylon said he’d give it back, he hadn’t yet. Yarif didn’t carry a single knife on his person. He’d even lost his boot knife somewhere along the way. Probably when he yanked his boots off and tossed them across the floor last night. Who knew where he left his hairpin? All other weapons were hidden away.
He hadn’t even slept with one under the pillow.
“Looking for these?” Illa asked in mocking tones. One by one, in motions nearly too fast to track, she threw Yarif’s knives with deadly accuracy. They whizzed by his head, embedding in the door in a series ofthunks.
Yarif inched toward the door. “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, so what do you want?” If he screamed, would the guards come running? No. They weren’t his regular guards and likely the commander’s men. Yarif shifted toward the hidden panel instead. He’d played there as a child. He’d quickly lose any pursuers in the warren of passageways even without a lantern.
“Oh, not much,” she said, tones oozing smug satisfaction. “To start a war, win fame and glory. Go down in the annals of history as the one Emperor Soland depended on to get things done.” Her tone sounded casual. Too casual for someone discussing the deaths of innocent people.
War. She wanted war, like many of the nobles the emperor recently executed.
Like Father. Where Yarif had seen Commander Illa before snapped into place. “You met with my brother. He said you were a foreign noble.” Though he’d never said from where.
Illa switched seamlessly to Delletinian. “Even if I weren’t an amazing actress, I could have fooled that lump of a brother of yours. Your father too.” She cocked her head in a thoughtful gesture. “Hmm… I actually did, didn’t I?”
Yarif narrowed his eyes. “You convinced my father to betray the emperor.”
“It didn’t take much convincing.” Illa grinned, advancing a few steps. “But then a thought occurred to me. Why settle for a dried-up old king of a minor kingdom when I could have an emperor’s backing to gain one of my own? Once your waste of a father gave the emperor just cause to seize Renvalle, no one faulted him for defending the empire.”
“Then what do you want with me? I’m no longer king.”
“You know, Emperor Soland considered keeping you on the throne, giving you to me as my plaything. At your untimely death, I would have been queen.” Her sinister grin gave Yarif chills. “Oh, you’re going down in history too. As the reason the emperor invaded Delletina and brought the dogs to heel. After all, why be the queen of this backward place when I can rule all of Delletina, as should have been my birthright?”
Birthright? Years ago, when Delletina fought to resist the empire, a king had been deposed, and his family either murdered or scattered. Was this woman with a maniacal glint in her eyes part of the former line?
If so, small wonder they’d been overthrown.
Keep her talking, keep her talking… Yarif continued backing toward the hidden panel.
“Oh, don’t even think about escaping.” Illa glowered.
He jumped when the panel slipped open. Frida emerged, the governess he’d fired. Frida looked right past Yarif. “All is ready, milady.” She smirked in Yarif’s direction.
Illa laughed, the sound sending cold chills down Yarif’s spine. “Good. Now to get our victim.”
Victim? Yarif crouched, assuming a fighting stance. He’d do damage even without knives.
Illa yawned. “Don’t even think your little dances will help you.”
