If her father had not died, they would’ve spent this summer preparing for war. Her father’s plan.He always had a plan.All of it laid out in shorthand letters.
Still, something heavy dropped in the princess’s empty stomach as the letters swirled before her, the message undeniably clear. The only thing she couldn’t decipher was who T was. Not Taillefer, surely. Koldo would know—there could be no other K. Not that she would tell her who the T was. Not that it mattered now. The plan was dead but within Amarande it caught flame.
This plan was as much of a directive then as it was now.
She couldn’t fail Luca. Her father’s words rang in her mind with exactly what she must do to ensure her love would stay safe.
Make the first mark.
She could take her blade to the Warlord’s throat in the next ten minutes and change the course of everything.
Even if she didn’t get out alive, Luca would survive. The Warlord’s reign would fall to chaos. Her mother wouldn’t be able to revive it—not with her commitment to Ardenia so public.
The call of action was hot in her blood, her pulse thundering at her wrists, her temples, her jaw. She dropped the map, not caring for the noise it made, and drew her sword.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Taillefer’s hand shot out, going for her wrist but missing. “They will attack anyone who enters their camp with a sword at the ready.”
Amarande crested the lip of the creekbed. “I’m going to pay a visit to the Warlord.”
Taillefer lunged with both hands now, going for her legs. He snatched her ankle, voice rising in intensity as he hung on. Her boots slipped in the soft silt, unable to gain purchase. She slid down until her sword tip caught the earth, stopping his progress and leaving her shoulders andhead exposed to anyone awake and alert in the camp. The princess didn’t care.
“Youcannot.”
“I can and I will.”
“No.” Taillefer cuffed her shoulders and the sword tip gave, Amarande and her weapon sliding down the embankment with him. “Princess, I understand what you’re thinking. The strategy is sound—it is. It would buy Luca time and give him a reeling regime to dismantle, which would be much easier than what he’s staring down now. I’ll admit, that is bordering on genius, except for one thing: You will not make it out alive.”
“I will.”
Taillefer’s stare did not waver. For a boy who did not traffic in seriousness, the stern angles of his face were unsettling. “You heard the rebels at the inn—The Warlord shall find you in the stars.That did not sound like wishing their enemies to have tea; it sounds like the Warlord knows you’re coming.”
He pointed at the map as proof, though he didn’t know what she did about her mother. “Amarande, there are more than a thousand people here who would cut you down, believing you are trying to finish what your fatherobviouslywas about to start and was likely killed for.”
Amarande shook her head clear, trying to deny the truth of the points Taillefer had connected. But she wanted them to go another way. Needed them to.
If Geneva killed her father, her mother—Koldo, too—had much more to do with the events that followed than even the boy across from her. Someone who suddenly could’ve actually been a pawn. She grimaced, jaw muscles firing. “That is a chance I will have to take.”
“No. You won’t.” Taillefer switched his grip to cuff the wrist of her sword arm. His eyes caught the light, shards of ice in this vast desert. “Think of Luca. He’ll die of a broken heart.”
That stopped Amarande’s breath dead in her lungs. “Taillefer, when on earth did you become a romantic?”
His eyes dropped. “I will only say that… it was very clear how much he loved you when we spent time together.”
Amarande wrestled her wrist away. That sick feeling sloshed in her gut, and she had to swallow down bile lapping at her throat. “Youmean when he believed he would die at your hand? When you tortured him within an inch of his beautiful life? When you paraded him out as a cadaver to force my hand?”
“Yes.” To his credit, Taillefer looked up to answer her. “I know you won’t believe it, but I do regret my actions. Very much.”
She said nothing, but she did not move either, her sword still in her grip.
“Princess, you will win his kingdom—with him, for him. I promise.” Taillefer’s focus upon her was unflinching. She turned farther away. “But do not sacrifice yourself and your future at this moment for something that may not work. Please.”
For a long while, silence stood between them, the light wind rustling the matted ropes of her hair, the ashen dirt kicking up around them. Amarande sheathed her sword.
She met Taillefer’s relief with a tip of her chin. “Fine. We go into the camp for supplies only. Horses, food, waterskins, and, if we can manage it, new clothing for you. Your uniform is far too noticeable, even without the garnet cloak.”
The smallest of his slippery smiles kicked up at the prince’s lips.
“I hate to tell you this, Princess, but no matter how I am dressed, all eyes will be on you.” Her lips dropped open, not sure how to answer this statement, and the realization of how it must have hit her ears crossed his face, his eyes shooting wide open. “I didn’t mean that as a compliment.”
