Page 10 of The Dead Queen

I’m no fool. I know my impending marriage is just another of my father’s strategies. The real question is, to what end? How far is he willing to go to distract people from the threat lingering in the north? The same threat my grandfather fought, and his father before him. There’s a long line of powerful, ferocious Fox Kings who’ve protected the Llwyn Kingdom from the Dead Queen and her corpse army.

This engagement shouldn’t feel like a death sentence, but it does. I’m not ready for marriage. Especially not one that’s foisted upon me.

Slow, steady footsteps echo along the library floor. I don’t need to turn to know who it is.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Hunter says.

I spin to face him. He’s leaning against a bookshelf, rubbing his upper arm. It’s an anxious habit he’s had for years. He’s changed out of his copper-plated armor and now looks more like himself, or at least like the Hunter I remember. His simple white tunic and brown breeches show the court’s superficiality hasn’t completely consumed him.

Then I look down at my gown with its cinched, silken skirts and realize I’m no better. Not that I have much choice over my clothes now that I’m back. Even less so as an heir about to be married.

“I’m sorry,” he says, keeping his voice quiet so it doesn’t echo down the aisle. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”

I close my eyes and hold in a breath. As much as I know this isn’t his fault, it still hurts. I still feel trapped. Used.

“I know.”

When I open my eyes again, he’s giving me a familiar look. “Kind eyes” I used to call them.

“You look nice,” he says. “Though I miss the smell of horse.”

I snort. I can’t help it. He knows me well.

He moves closer, closer than anyone else would dare, but this is Hunter, my dearest friend. And, if I’m going to be honest with myself, my old love. His closeness both comforts and tortures me at the same time.

I sigh. “Hunter, I …” but I can’t go down that road. It’s a dangerous path. Instead, I look up into his brown eyes.

He waits, patient as always.

“How could you have let them blindside me like that?” I ask, all anger at him now depleted, like an empty waterskin. “Why didn’t you tell me about the engagement the second I arrived?”

He reaches out to take my hand in his. I let him, my skin tingling at his touch. The familiarity feels both strange and thrilling after three years with no friends, no comfort, no touch. No one to confide in. At the borderlands, there was work to distract me from emotions. And more work. I learned to cut off any feelings of isolation or longing. I learned to not want companionship. Not to desire the warmth of someone else’s skin on mine.

When you need to go without, it’s best not to want. It’s best not to need anything. Or anyone.

Hunter swallows hard, and his eyes drift down to our hands.

“I was just truly happy to see you, Sienna.” He runs his thumb over my knuckles lightly. “When you first saw me, your face lit up, like old times. I didn’t want to ruin that. I hoped you’d remember what we had once. Before…” He shrugs. “I didn’t want to be the one to disappoint you again.”

And there it is. The “Before”. I can see it now, the guilt that plays around the corners of his brown eyes. He betrayed me once. We have never been the same since.

I bite my lip. As much as I wish I’d had some warning, I can understand Hunter’s reluctance to be the bearer of bad news.

He bends forward to catch my eyes.

“And, really, is this so bad?” His face is filled with timid hope.

My hand feels warm in his, and I can’t decide if it’s from our shared power or the heat that he used to ignite in me. Maybe some embers remain, buried deep beneath the scarred coals in my heart. The thought both thrills and terrifies me.

For a moment, I let myself wonder if my initial reaction to the engagement was just my usual rebellious response to my father. Maybe this could be something good. Maybe Hunter and I could rebuild what we once had, but stronger than before. The image of a shared future flashes through my mind—laughter, warmth, belonging.

But then reality hits me, cold and unforgiving. I remember why I came back here. This time, I’m going to find out what happened to Grandmother. Why she was in the borderlands. Why she never came back. I won’t let my father keep his secrets. I can’t allow Hunter or a royal wedding to distract me. There’s no peace in domesticity for me, not when I still have so many unanswered questions.

Not when I suspect that Grandmother’s death was no accident.

“I’m sorry, Hunter.” I shake my head. “This isn’t what I wanted. For either of us.”

“What if it’s what I want?” He asks softly. “What if this could be something truly great? You and me, like old times.”