The Heir's Bargain (Of Fire and Lies)

Chapter 16

”Delivery for Captain Ferrios!”

My sword fell to my side. ”Delivery? I”m not?—”

I choked on my words as my back hit the ground with a thud. A cloud of dust wafted into the air around my face. Tiny dust particles swam in the air as I squinted at the sun.

”Nice one, Moris!” Quint called out from the group of soldiers gathered around the mat.

I should have been thankful that the group of soldiers who witnessed me falling was smaller than usual, but it only made it worse.

For the past few days, the lieutenants and captains of the First Battalion had been asked to stay behind after our regular training for additional advanced sessions. General Walen said little else when he made the announcement. But when my father showed up, I knew something was up—something I needed to be a part of.

For the past three days straight, I worked myself tirelessly.

My body was covered in bruises from the additional combat training, and my limbs were so sore that even an ice bath did little to soothe the ache.

If only that was why Moris was able to knock me on my ass.

”That”s what? Two losses in a month, Captain?” Moris squatted down beside me, his hands resting on his knees. ”Dare I say you”re losing your touch?”

I shoved him before rolling over and pushing myself up. ”I am not. I was just distracted.”

”Distractions will get you killed.” A wide smile split across his face. ”Isn”t that what you always tell us?”

”Oh, shut it,” I spat over my shoulder as I dusted off my backside and headed toward the man holding a package.

”What is it?” I asked the messenger as he held out the large rectangular box.

The man shrugged. ”How would I know? I was told to deliver it, so I”m delivering it.”

The box was simple and nondescript, with no letter on the outside. I couldn”t remember the last time someone sent me something, especially in the midst of training.

”Can you at least tell me who it”s from?”

”Prince Fynneares, ma”am.”

My tongue was lead in my mouth as I gripped the box. The cardboard dented where my fingers pressed into it as whistles and hollers spread across the soldiers behind me.

I snapped my head in their direction, eyes narrowed. A few quickly dropped their gazes, but others were not as smart and snickered behind their hands.

”Thank you,” I mumbled to the messenger. I turned the box and hugged it between my hip and arm.

Fynn had another thing coming if he thought I would open it in front of?—

”What”s in the box, Cap?” Sylvia asked.

”Nothing,” I said, tightening my grip.

”Nothing? That”s a big box for a whole lot of nothin”.” Sylvia grinned and reached for the box.

As I shuffled it behind my back, it slipped from my hands.

Gasping, I spun, only to find Moris hopping away. I made to grab it, but as I reached forward, my body froze.

Internally, I screamed, but none of them heard me as Moris” gift swept over me, paralyzing me from my toes to my fists to my damn eyelids. I couldn”t move; I couldn”t speak.

But most unfortunately, I could still hear them.

Giggling, Sylvia ran over to Moris. ”Quick, open it!”

Moris peeled the lid of the box open. Sylvia reached inside and snatched something from inside the box. She flipped over what looked to be a card with my name written in neat, fancy penmanship.

By the gods, I wished I could scream.

They were all dead. All of them. Sylvia, Moris, Fynn. I didn”t care if leadership would need to find replacements for them or if Terin would need to take Fynn”s place.

I didn”t know who I wanted to kill more: Moris for paralyzing me or Fynn for putting me in this godsforsaken position in the first place.

Moris had no right to use his ability on me. It was strictly prohibited during combat training. And for good fucking reason. I could feel my cheeks turn bright red as Sylvia cleared their throat and began reading Fynn”s letter.

Paper crinkled, and Moris cooed as he lifted beautiful silk fabric from the box.

Is that?—

Internally, I shook my head. I thought Fynn didn”t like that dress when we were at the boutique, yet here it was.

”Dearest Danisinia,” Sylvia began, lowering their voice in some horrid impression of Fynn as they read, ”it would be my honor if you would be my guest at the upcoming solstice ball. In anticipation, I have taken the liberty of choosing the dress for you so you do not have to put up with Lorallye”s shenanigans for a second time. I hope it meets your high standards. With love, Fynneares Andros Nadarean, Crown Prince.”

The soldiers burst into laughter. As Moris keeled over with the box squeezed against his chest, the effect of his gift melted away. I stumbled forward, my rage propelling me.

On wobbly feet, I snatched the letter from Sylvia”s hands and pointed it at them, fire brewing in my eyes. ”You”re all dead.”

Moris tried to say something, but he couldn”t through his fits of laughter now overtaking his body.

”With love—” one of the soldiers behind me began as a few others finished with, ”Fynneares Andros Nadarean, Crown Prince.”

”Are you sure he didn”t mean to send this to me?” Moris asked in between laughs, handing me the box. ”Purple is more my color than yours.”

More snickering sounded from the crowd, and I bit down on my tongue.

”Fuck off all of you,” I said before spitting on the ground. I slammed the lid back onto the box and squished it between my arm and side, the material of the box crinkling.

”I’m leaving,” I said as I stomped off the training field.

”Why? Do you need to prepare for some fancy ball?” a soldier asked—Gabriel, perhaps?

”Don”t step on the prince”s toes, Captain!” Moris shouted after me.

”We”ll see about that,” I mumbled as I stormed away, the soldiers” laughter a faint echo at my back.

Perhaps what Fynn needed was just that. His toes to be stepped on.

I slammedthe box onto the table, and Fynn arched a brow.

The guards at the castle”s gates did little else but blink as they watched me storm past, box tucked beneath my arm, half-smashed, and pure fury bleeding through my eyes.

Fynn didn”t even flinch. He looked up from the book in his hand and tilted his head. ”Do you not like the dress? I recall you liked that one well enough at the shop. But if your opinion has changed, I can?—”

I screamed in frustration, and outside the room, a few passing servants peeked in through the door. Lance and Telis, who were standing outside the sitting room, peered inside with concern furrowing their brows.

Fynn stood, waving them off. ”It seems I”ve chosen the wrong dress color,” he said.

Telis nodded as if that explained everything—as if that was a reasonable thing to get upset about.

Morons. The lot of them.

”Best we settle this in private. Wouldn”t you agree, lads?” Fynn said as he shut the door.

My jaw fell open, and my nails bit into my palms, carving sharp crescent moons into my flesh.

”Can you not be so loud, Dani?” Fynn hissed, turning around. ”We are supposed to be happy and in love, remember?”

I snapped my jaw shut, anger overriding the shock.

He brushed a hand through his hair. ”Come on. Tell me what”s wrong with the dress, and I can?—”

”Fuck the dress, Fynn!” I slammed a fist against the table, the bright pain slicing through my arm. ”This isn”t about the damn dress!”

He leaned against the door, his ankles crossing and his arms folding over his chest. ”Then what is it?”

”You sent a delivery man to training.”

”And?”

I held up a finger. ”Rule number one, Fynn.”

”Mhm.” Fynn nodded. ”Right, the rules. Did I mention that rules are often made to be broken?”

My fists tightened at my side, my frustration about to boil over. ”Second, do you know how embarrassing that was?”

He smirked.

He fucking smirked.

Holding up a finger, he said, ”To your first question: I told Patrick to deliver the package after your training. But if you wish to blame me for Patrick”s inability to follow a simple set of instructions, so be it.” He held up a second finger. ”Second, now I”m an embarrassment?”

I groaned and pulled the ribbon holding up my hair, hoping to release the headache that was forming.

It didn”t.

”It was careless, Fynn.”

”How? People who court each other often send one another gifts.”

Point taken, I thought, but I refused to admit that to him.

”General Walen retires in less than three months, Fynn! What if that letter revealed the truth? And Sylvia had read that letter to the leaders of First Battalion? What then? Everyone would have known this is?—”

”Dani, stop.” Fynn pushed himself off the door and took a step toward me. ”Do you think I am that foolish?”

”Yes, I do!”

”Wow, all right.” He clicked his tongue. Something akin to hurt flashed across his countenance, but it was too quick to decipher.

I exhaled, long and hard. Pressing my palms flat against the table, I dropped my head, my anger simmering as I squeezed my eyes shut. ”Fynn, I didn”t?—”

”No, it”s fine. I get it. I”m the daft prince who had the misfortune of being named heir. Terin is too timid, too quiet. That”s the real reason I”m the Crown Prince, right? If Terin had fought for it, the title would have been his.” Fynn grabbed the crystal decanter and poured a glass. Once filled, he picked up the glass and spun the clear liquid before shooting it down his throat. He peeled his gaze away from the drink. His chocolate brown eyes met mine, a flurry of emotions swimming within his irises. ”I know what people think about me. I just didn”t realize you thought that, too.”

My shoulders dropped, and the anger vanished. ”Fynn.”

He offered me a small smile, but it was far from convincing.

With soft, quiet steps, I stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. The muscles in his shoulders softened, the tension lessening.

When he spoke next, none of the fire or anger that had been there previously was present. ”I”m sorry. Today”s meeting was rough. I know it”s not an excuse, but?—”

The change in Fynn”s demeanor wasn”t some ploy to trick me into calming down. Something was clearly bothering him.

So, instead of holding onto my anger, I nodded, squeezing his shoulder. ”Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head

”When you do, I”m here.”

He nodded.

My hand fell to my side. ”Fynn, I swear I didn”t mean it like that. I”ve told you before that I think you will be a great king.”

He scratched the back of his head, making a mess of his hair. His cotton shirt stretched across his arm. ”I know. I”m not upset about what you said.”

”Then what is it? I know you said you don”t want to talk about it, but?—”

Fynn lifted his head, dark strands of hair falling in front of his face.

The sun was beginning to set. Golden light streamed into the windows and splashed across the exterior wall of the advisors” room. Without thinking, I brushed the hair from his face, and the hair ran through my fingers like silk. When Fynn looked up at me, a hint of gold shimmered in the otherwise pool of dark brown that even the sun could not penetrate.

He blinked, his long eyelashes brushing his cheek. I dropped my hand.

One day, he would talk about the trauma of his past. If not with me, then with someone.

”The dress is perfect,” I whispered. ”Thank you.”

He offered me a small smile as he lifted a hand and brushed a curl behind my ear. The pads of his fingertips were coarse against my skin from years of training with a sword and countless hours of studying, flipping through old books.

Fynn might have been daft at times, but he had not earned his title simply because his brother was too reserved. Fynn worked for his position just as hard as any soldier I had seen rise in the ranks.

But Fynn didn”t see it that way. He never did.

If only he saw what I saw when I looked at him.

My lips parted, but before I could say anything, Fynn dropped his hand and said, ”All the details are in the letter. The ball is in two weeks.”

I nodded. Then, taking it as a dismissal, I turned around, heading for the door.

As my hand gripped the cold metal door knob, Fynn said to my back, his words quiet but sharp enough to cut through my heart like a blade, ”If we”re reminding each other of the rules, let us not forget the other three.”

I bit down on my lip and nodded again before pulling open the door without a second glance back at the prince, whose touch still warmed my cheek.

His touch, I reminded myself as I walked through the cold halls, didn”t belong to me.