Ferdinand nodded. He gathered himself, and pressed his lips to her forehead, just like she had done to him when he was small. Somehow, that kiss gave him enough fortitude to say exactly what she needed to hear.
“I suppose the truth is that you really do love me.”
It took Geneva several tries to draw enough breath for what she so badly wanted to say. In his arms, she felt as light as a bird now, all her strength evaporated, her fight, her will, all that kept her from the stars. She grit her teeth like the warrior she was and met him with all the fire and force she had left.
“Yes, that’s the truth, Ferdinand. Amarande, too. Tell her I loved her.”
As the brilliance dimmed in her sky-light eyes, Ferdinand believed it.
CHAPTER 46
AMARANDEand Luca approached the Bellringe at a tentative pace.
Sundown was the goal. Enough time for the army to get in place. Enough time for a diplomatic conversation. Enough time for night to fall should they need the cover of stars and dark to get everyone out alive.
Somewhere behind them, down the mountain, hidden within the proud pine trees that blanketed the mountains with their tightly threaded needles all yearlong, was the pro-Otxoa caravan. They’d escorted Amarande and Luca the entire journey, acting as their protection before dropping away to scout the Bellringe away from the main road. If called, they could pound through the castle’s front gate within minutes. Amarande was still apprehensive about Tala, but confident about his role simply because she knew her own army sandwiched the Bellringe from the other side.
“Quiet as a crypt,” Luca whispered as he watched the ivory spires rise above the tree line. Amarande cut out a laugh, and Luca turned, surprise dusting the corners of his smile. “What?”
“Wasn’t that a joke? Given Renard’s… condition?”
“Oh. No, I didn’t—”
“Of course, you didn’t. Perhaps that I laughed says more about me than about you.”
Amarande punched Luca hard enough the length of his arm collided with the edges of the chest plate he wore. That had been a must, they decided—obvious armor and obvious weapons for each of them. A small sign that they knew Ferdinand had been ambushed, and that they expected to need to protect themselves more than on a typical visit.
Additionally, Amarande wore the same official Ardenian military dress that Ferdinand had chosen for his ill-fated trip. What Koldo had worn day in and day out. And somehow, Amarande felt the general’s presence in the fabric, the cut, the shine of the clasps and tiger’shead broach. She wore it as much for Koldo as she did for her people, her Warrior King father, and herself.
Luca, though, donned the flat black of Torrence, sharp as death itself. “Given what we’re about to face, I think trying to find humor in the minutiae is a fine tactic for seeing this through.”
Amarande cut a brow toward him. “Perhaps I should make your joke in front of Renard—do you think he’d appreciate it?”
Now this made him truly laugh. “About as much as he appreciated it when you stole his sword at King Sendoa’s funeral.”
“You’re not wrong, my love.”
Luca’s dimples flashed and he tipped his chin to the approaching opalescent gate. “Ah, the welcoming committee has arrived.”
Indeed, now atop the castle ramparts stood archers. Their bows were silent threats across their backs as they stared sternly ahead, attempting to appear intimidating in their aubergine and gold. Amarande and Luca didn’t dare to look back behind them, toward the trees. It was much smarter to hope the archers could see nothing but a wall of needles and trunks—even a single glance to check the cover could mean an expedition aimed at the Torrentians.
As they rounded the last switchback to the Bellringe’s glittering white gate, it opened. And there in the courtyard, stood a lone figure, hands folded gently before him, chin lifted to display a self-satisfied smile.
He was blond, pale, and yet again, someone they had never expected to see again.
“Dunixi?” Luca couldn’t cover his reflexive surprise.
The former pirate leader bowed. “At your service. Or, in fact, the king’s. Come, follow me.”
Luca took a step forward as he was supposed to—Get inside. Be diplomatic. Stick with the plan—but Amarande hesitated, the Bellringe guard at her back, staring down from the ramparts with those bows.
As the castle workers bustled forth taking the horses, removing their saddlebags to place in their respective chambers, and on and on, she realized that she wouldneedan audience. Maybe Renard knew that, too.
“Where are we going?” Amarande asked as they entered the castle proper. Even here and now there were fewer people than in the courtyard.
“The throne room, Your Highness.”
That wasn’t ideal—enclosed and big enough for a brawl—but much better than somewhere smaller and more intimate. And, given Dunixi nor anyone else requested they remove their weapons and armor, perhaps Renard was now making it clear he was looking for a fight rather than simply allowing them to infer it.
