Chapter 20 #2
"And who is this vision?" His gaze locked on Merrit, interest sparking.
"Don't tell me. Let me guess. The latest conquest?
No, wait—she's got that look about her. The one that says she'd rather gut you than kiss you.
Which means either you're paying her very well, or.
.." His grin widened. "Oh. Oh, this is delicious. "
Merrit's hands moved before I could stop her. "Merrit Locke. And you must be the brother who thinks charm can substitute for substance."
Nikolai's laugh seemed delighted. "Oh, I like her. She's got teeth." He leaned closer to the mirror. "Tell me, gorgeous, what's a woman with your obvious intelligence doing with my tragically serious brother?"
"Keeping him alive," she signed. "Someone has to."
"Keeping him—" Nikolai's eyes widened, then his grin turned positively wicked. "Oh, you're not just decoration. You're actually useful. Kieran, you've outdone yourself. Where did you find her?"
"The Divide," Merrit answered before I could. "Where people don't waste time with pretty words when a knife will do."
Through the bond, I felt her satisfaction at Nikolai's surprised respect.
"Enough," I snapped. "Both of you."
A third face appeared, shoving both Lorenzo and Nikolai to the edges of the mirror.
Henrick's pale features swam into view, his eyes too wide, too knowing.
Dark circles shadowed them, and his skin had that translucent quality of someone who spent too much time with magic and not enough replenishing himself with blood.
"The currents are disturbed," he said without preamble. His voice was soft, almost whispered, but it carried an edge that made the hair on my neck stand up. "Something is moving through the magical weave. Something old. Hungry."
"Henrick," I said carefully. My brother unnerved me at the best of times. "What are you sensing?"
"Blood magic. Death magic. Threads that shouldn't exist, being pulled by hands that shouldn't touch them." He focused on me with unsettling intensity. "You've brought something into your house, brother. Something that draws the darkness."
My hand found Merrit's immediately, protective instinct overriding caution. Her alarm spiked through me.
Merrit's hands moved, steady despite the tension. "I'm not the darkness you're sensing. But I'll help find what is."
Henrick's gaze shifted to her, and for a moment, those pale eyes seemed to look through her rather than at her. "Perhaps. Or perhaps you're the key that opens the door." His attention snapped back to me. "Be careful, Kieran. The threads are tangling. Soon they'll choke everything they touch."
Then he was gone, and the mirror was just glass again.
Tension bled from my shoulders. "Well. That went about as well as expected."
"Your family is delightful," Solis said dryly. Some of his usual humor had returned, though the tension in his shoulders remained. "Really makes you understand why you're so well-adjusted."
“They're always like this?” Merrit asked, her question streaking across my already-frayed nerves.
“This was them being cooperative,” I replied. “You should see holiday gatherings.”
Her amusement, mixed with her wariness, rattled inside my chest.
Another knock. This time, Elias entered without waiting for permission.
He looked... off. Not obviously wrong, but the way he moved, the slight delay in his reactions, made me take notice. Like a puppet whose strings were being pulled by someone still learning the motions.
"Your Highness." He bowed, deeper than necessary. "I wanted to offer my services."
"Services?" I kept my voice neutral, watching him carefully.
"For the Exhibition. I could coordinate additional security measures." His attention slid to Merrit, and something in his expression made my hackles rise. Too focused. Too intent. "And I assume your companion will be attending?”
It wasn't really a question. More an assumption he was testing, waiting to see if I'd confirm or deny.
"That's thoughtful of you," I said slowly.
Merrit's warning filtered through my thoughts. “His mind is still fractured. Worse than before.”
"I insist," Elias continued, taking a step closer to Merrit. "A woman of her... unique position... would need proper protection. Especially at such a volatile event."
Every protective instinct in me screamed to refuse, to put distance between Elias and Merrit. But if someone was controlling him, keeping him close might help us identify who.
"Very well," I said, hating the words even as I spoke them. "You'll coordinate with Solis on security arrangements. And you'll stay close to Merrit during the Exhibition."
“Kieran—" Her alarm shot through me.
“Trust me,” I projected back. “I have a plan.”
Elias’ smile was too bright, too eager. "Excellent. I won't let anything happen to her, Your Highness. You have my word."
The words should have been reassuring. Instead, they landed like a threat.
"If you'll excuse me, I should begin preparations." He bowed again and left, his steps slightly too measured, too careful.
The moment the door closed, Solis swore. "You can't seriously be considering—"
"I'm not," I said flatly. "Not without insurance."
As if summoned by my thoughts, shadows in the corner of the room deepened, thickened, and Nadia stepped through them like she'd been there all along.
Merrit's hands moved immediately, signing a greeting. "You have the worst timing."
"It's more fun this way." Nadia flashed a predatory grin as she leaned against the wall. "Heard you've got a puppet problem."
"Elias," I confirmed. "Someone's controlling him. I need to know who, and I need Merrit protected while we figure it out."
"So you're using her as bait." Nadia pushed off the wall, moving closer to Merrit. "Ballsy. Stupid. But I respect it."
Something unexpected filtered through—Merrit's ease around Nadia. Recognition, almost. Like seeing a familiar face in a foreign land.
Merrit's hands moved, quicker now. "I can handle myself. I've survived worse than Court politics."
"Have you, though?" Nadia tilted her head. "Because Court politics here means poison in your wine, a blade between your ribs, and a charming smile to distract you while it happens."
"You mean a regular Tuesday in the Divide?" Merrit signed. "Just with less silk and more honesty about the knives."
Nadia's grin widened. "Oh, I like you. Most court ladies would be clutching their pearls right now."
"I'm not a court lady."
"No shit." Nadia circled her once, assessing. "All right, Divide-girl. I'll watch your back. But if things go sideways, I'm getting you out. Even if I have to drag you through the shadows kicking and screaming."
Merrit signed something that made Nadia laugh. I caught the edge of it: a Divide phrase about shadows being safer than sunlight, anyway.
"It's settled then." I moved toward the door, needing air, needing space from the weight of too many factors I couldn't control. "Solis, coordinate with Elias but keep eyes on him at all times. Nadia, shadow Merrit. And Merrit—"
I stopped, turning back to find her watching me with those sharp green eyes that saw too much. In three strides I was beside her, my hand cupping her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone.
“Be careful,” I projected. “Please.”
Her hand came up to cover mine. “Together, remember?”
“Together.”
I pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a heartbeat, breathing her in. When I pulled back, Solis was studiously examining the map like he hadn't seen anything, while Nadia's grin had turned knowing.
I didn't care. Let them see. Let them know she mattered.
I left before the fear could root any deeper, before I could second-guess the decision to use her as bait. The corridor outside was mercifully empty, giving me space to breathe.
Until it wasn't.
Tobias materialized from a side passage, his footsteps too quiet for someone who wasn't trying to sneak. "Your Highness. Might I have a word?"
Every instinct screamed to refuse. To walk away. But Tobias had been my father's advisor for decades, had served the Crown longer than I'd been alive. Dismissing him without cause would raise questions I couldn't afford.
"Make it quick."
"The Exhibition," he said, falling into step beside me. "A bold move, bringing your companion to such a volatile event. I ran into Elias in the corridor—he mentioned you'd be attending together."
Of course he had. Elias’ fractured mind probably couldn't keep anything contained anymore.
"She's under my protection."
"Of course, of course." His voice was honey-smooth, concerned. "I merely wonder if... well, forgive me for overstepping, but have you considered all the variables?"
I stopped walking, turning to face him fully. "What variables?"
"Your brothers, for instance." He clasped his hands behind his back, the picture of a troubled advisor. "Lorenzo in particular. I know there's... history between you."
"Lorenzo swore fealty. He wouldn't break that vow."
"Wouldn't he?" Tobias’ eyebrows rose delicately. "I'm not suggesting treason, Your Highness. Merely pointing out that Tharros has been... quiet lately. Too quiet. And Lorenzo's province has one of the largest military forces in the kingdom."
The words settled like lead in my gut, even as I rejected them. "Lorenzo lives and breathes duty. Rules are sacred to him. He'd sooner cut off his own hand than break his vow."
"Perhaps." Tobias spread his hands, the picture of innocence. "But even the most dutiful can be pushed too far. And the crown that should have been his by birthright..." He let the sentence hang, unfinished but heavy with implication.
"Lorenzo and I have been over this a thousand times," I said flatly. "Yes, he resents me. Yes, he thinks Father made the wrong choice. But he's no traitor."
"Of course not." Tobias smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Forgive an old man his paranoid musings. It's just that with everything happening—the attacks, the unrest—one can't help but wonder who benefits from destabilizing your rule."
He didn't wait for a response, just bowed and continued down the corridor, leaving me alone with doubts I didn't want.
I knew Lorenzo. We'd fought, bled together, survived our father's brutal training side by side. He was rigid, disciplined, furious about being passed over for the Crown—but a traitor?
No. Lorenzo would never break the rules. They were the only things that made sense to him in a world that constantly disappointed.
But Tobias’ words wormed into my thoughts anyway, planting seeds of suspicion I couldn't quite uproot.
I needed air. Space. Merrit.
Mentally, I reached for her, found her still in the war room with Solis and Nadia. “Meet me in the eastern corridor. Please.”
Her response was immediate. “On my way.”
I headed toward our meeting spot, a quiet stretch of hallway with windows overlooking the training yards. By the time I arrived, she was already there, silhouetted against the light.
The bond thrummed between us as I closed the distance, and when I reached her, I couldn't help myself—I cupped her face, tilting it up to study those defiant green eyes.
"You don't have to do this," I said aloud, even as I projected the same thought. "We can find another way."
Her hands came up, signing even as her thoughts brushed mine. "There is no other way. And I'm not backing down."
“I'm terrified,” I admitted, the words too raw to speak aloud. “Of losing you. Of making the wrong choice. Of using you as bait and watching you pay the price.”
Her hand covered mine where it rested against her cheek. “Then don't lose me. Keep me close, and we'll face it together.”
The simplicity of it—the absolute certainty in her mental voice—should have steadied me. Instead, it only made the fear sharper. Because she didn't understand yet. Didn't know what it meant to rule, to carry the weight of a province on your shoulders while your father watched and judged every move.
But with her here, that weight felt... bearable. Like maybe I could actually build something worth keeping instead of just maintaining what Father had created. Like maybe the Crown Province didn't have to be a cage.
"Three days," I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers. "Then we spring the trap. And we end this."
“Together.”
“Together,” I repeated.
I kissed her then, brief and fierce, tasting the promise on her lips. When I pulled back, she was watching me with something that looked almost like hope.
Then her gaze shifted past my shoulder, and her expression changed. Her alarm spiked, piercing and sudden.
I turned.
At the far end of the corridor, Tobias stood frozen. But he wasn't looking at me.
He was staring at Merrit.
Not the casual assessment of a courtier observing the prince's companion. This was focused. Intent. The kind of stare a hunter gave prey when recognizing something it had lost.
His expression was carefully neutral, but his eyes—saints, they burned with an emotion I couldn't name. Recognition? Calculation? Hunger?
The moment stretched too long. Then Tobias seemed to realize he'd been caught staring. His expression smoothed into practiced courtesy, and he inclined his head in a shallow bow before turning and walking away.
But the image of his face remained burned into my mind.
Merrit's fear tasted like copper on my tongue. “Did you see—"
“I saw.” My hands curled into fists at my sides. “And we're going to find out exactly what the hell that was about.”
She turned back to me, signing with shaking hands. "He looked at me like he knew me."
"Impossible. You've never met before coming to Court."
“Unless...”
The thought trailed off, but I caught the edge of it. Her missing memories. The years before the orphanage. The blank space where her childhood should have been.
"We'll figure it out," I promised, though cold dread settled in my gut. "After the Exhibition. After we catch whoever's pulling the strings."
She nodded, but her uncertainty, her fear that we were missing something crucial, rang through me. Something that would come back to destroy us both.
I pulled her close, wrapping her in my arms, and felt her heartbeat steady against mine. The bond hummed between us, a thread of connection that felt both fragile and unbreakable.
Three days until the Exhibition.
Three days to identify the threat.
Three days before everything came crashing down.
I just hoped we'd both survive to see what came after.