CHAPTER TEN TREW
CHAPTER TEN
TREW
Istood against the wall of Isi’s sitting room, watching morning light crawl across the floor while her ladies fluttered around her in the bedroom beyond. The muted sounds of their chatter grated on my nerves, meaningless conversation about the weather, fashion, or nothing that mattered.
Through the cracked-open door, I caught glimpses of Isi. A flash of pale pink silk. Her profile as she turned. The tension in her shoulders that her ladies were too oblivious to notice.
She was dreading this morning’s meeting with her father. I swore I could feel it, a knot of anxiety that matched my own.
My fingers flexed on my sword hilt. I’d spent half the night walking up and down the hall, fighting the urge to go to her.
The other half I’d spent sleeping while Victor relieved me.
I woke early, planning exits, mapping guard rotations, and calculating exactly how many men I’d have to kill to get her out of this castle if everything fell apart.
The answer was too many.
Pherin perched on the back of a chair near the window, her tiny head swiveling to track me pacing like a caged beast.
The bedroom door opened wider, and Isi emerged in a gown with a high neckline and capped sleeves.
It made her look younger, more vulnerable, and exactly what her father would want to see.
The dutiful daughter, innocent and compliant.
Every layer of silk and every carefully constructed detail was designed to make her appealing to the men from last night.
Our eyes met.
I saw her fear there, carefully hidden beneath her composure. Saw the exhaustion from a sleepless night. Saw the longing that matched the misery in my heart.
She looked away, and the moment shattered. The ghost of our connection lingered, leaving an ache that no blade had ever matched.
I forced myself to resume the stoic facade required of a royal guard, though my heart thundered in my chest with enough fury to break ribs.
Her ladies continued their work, making final adjustments to her hair, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her skirt.
Mae lifted a delicate pearl necklace that went well with the gown, fastening it around Isi’s throat.
The beads caught the light as she breathed, the milky spheres rising and falling.
I clenched my jaw as I remembered pressing my lips to that hollow, of feeling her heartbeat quicken beneath my touch.
Now I stood sentinel, watching other hands touch what had once been mine.
A knock at the outer door made everyone pause.
I moved to answer it, my hand on the hilt of my sword.
A guard stood in the hallway, one of the king’s personal attendants. His eyes swept past me to land on Isi. “His Majesty requests Princess Amarissa’s presence immediately.”
Isi’s face remained perfectly composed, but I caught the slight hitch in her breathing. “Alright.”
The man nodded and stepped back, waiting.
Isi dismissed her ladies with a gracious smile that didn’t reach her eyes. They curtsied and stepped out into the hall.
Isi turned to face me fully, and the longing in her expression nearly brought me to my knees. I wanted to pull her into my arms and promise her everything would be fine.
But the steward waited.
I offered her a curt nod, keeping my distance while the air between us grew thick with unspoken promises.
Fury flashed in her eyes. She’d never be the docile princess her father demanded. She’d always be the woman who’d stood beside me on an ash-strewn battlefield, the woman who’d chosen me when the world demanded otherwise.
We stepped into the hallway, and I took up position behind her.
The servant led us through endless corridors. Multiple guards patrolled the halls, another sign of the king’s paranoia, or perhaps his suspicion. Either way, it complicated everything.
We turned a corner, and Lord Crestin appeared ahead, striding toward us. Isi stiffened, her steps faltering before she recovered. He nodded politely as he passed, his eyes lingering on her a moment too long.
Isi continued walking with her spine straight, her chin lifted, every inch the princess. Only someone who knew her intimately would notice the tightness in her shoulders and the way her fingers pressed together at her waist.
We soon reached the king’s office.
The servant knocked once and cracked open the door. “Princess Amarissa, Your Majesty.”
“Send her in.”
Isi walked through the opening, and I followed, taking my position against the wall near the entrance.
The king sat at his desk, his head bent over papers, the same game he’d used yesterday. He seemed to enjoy making her wait. Establishing dominance.
I scanned the room. Two exits, including the door we’d entered through and another leading to an adjacent parlor where I’d waited after I arrived.
The windows behind the king’s desk were too high and too narrow to provide adequate escape.
I spied no weapons within easy reach except the letter opener on his desk.
There were not enough options and the knowledge seared across my skin.
Isi continued to wait.
The king gestured with his pencil to the chair across from his desk without looking up. “Sit.”
She perched on the edge of the seat.
“So,” her father said. “Who shall I announce you’re marrying? Lord Crestin, Lord Alfred, or Lord Finley? Choose.”
Isi’s shoulders tightened, but she forced them to relax. A shudder ran through her that she tried to disguise by shifting in her seat.
“Father, they’re all such admirable men.” Her voice came out soft, humble. “Each brings wonderful connections to our court. The decision is difficult.”
I kept my face blank, my hands loose at my sides. Every instinct screamed to intervene, to pull her from that chair and take her away from this farce.
“A difficult choice,” the king said slowly, still not respecting her enough to meet her eye. “I see.”
“Could I have a little more time to decide?” she asked. “They’re all wonderful. You selected an amazing group for me to pick from and that’s making this a challenge.”
Finally, the king looked up, though his gaze fell on me, not her. “Very well. I’m not unreasonable. I can be a generous man when you’re obedient.”
Relief flickered across Isi’s face. “Thank you, Father. I—”
“You may have until the Day of Mercy. No more delays. You need a husband, especially now, with what’s coming.”
“You mean war.”
“What else could I mean?” So much conniving in his voice. If only I could read his mind.
“That gives you eleven days,” he said. “Surely that’s enough time to determine which wonderful lord you prefer.”
Isi’s hands tightened in her lap. “That’s very generous of you.”
“To grant you this, I have conditions.” The king rose from his chair and circled around his desk.
He stopped beside Isi’s chair, close enough that she had to crook her head back to meet his eyes.
“You’ll spend time with each suitor. I want public appearances.
Walks. Meals together. You need to make an effort. ”
“I understand.”
“Genuine effort, Amarissa.” His hand landed on her shoulder, and his fingers tightened. I kept my expression blank, but inside, I was calculating steps across the room, how quickly I could take his head before his guards responded, how satisfying it would be to break every finger touching my woman.
His gaze flicked to me before returning to Isi. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Father.” Her voice remained steady. “I look forward to knowing them better.”
“Good.” His hand slid from her shoulder to cup her chin, tilting her face up.
The controlling gesture was designed to remind her exactly who held the power here.
“You’ve been away too long, lost in grief and rebellion.
It’s time to remember your duties. Which brings me to another point.
” He released her chin and returned to his desk, settling back into his chair.
“I want you to be the Lady of Mercy at all times. No public displays of emotion. No defying me in front of the court.”
“I—”
“The people need to see their princess behaving in a mature manner. I won’t hear any arguments about it.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Excellent.” He leaned back, his face loosening. “Enjoy your time in the village today.”
“I will.”
“Go now.” He shuffled papers on his desk. “I’m much too busy to play games with you. I’ve received troubling reports of more rebel activity far from our border. In our own land!”
My attention sharpened.
“They’re getting bolder,” the king said. “Raiding supply caravans. Attacking our patrols. They think they can challenge Caldrith Court with impunity.”
“How far along are you with the war preparations?” Isi asked, her voice carefully neutral. Her fists clenched briefly in her lap, adding a subtle bite to her question.
The king’s smile showed all teeth. “My first attack force will leave soon. I—”
A guard cracked open the door. “Pardon, Your Majesty. Urgent message from the border patrol.”
The king grunted. “Wait outside. We’re nearly done.”
Backing out, the guard shut the door.
“We’ll hunt these rebels down in their wasteland and remind them of what happens when they challenge true power.”
He was talking about my kingdom. My people. Planning to attack Syllavar while I stood in his office pretending to be a hired guard.
“The borders will be secured,” he said. “Our lands will be protected. I want nothing less. And you, daughter, will be safely married to a man who can help maintain order while I’m occupied with military matters and…other things.”
“What other things?” she asked.
When he stared at her, I swore his eyes clouded before clearing. “Don’t trouble your pretty head about it.” He shot a wide-eyed look over his shoulder. “You’ve taken enough of my time. I have work to do.”
He waved a hand and lifted his pencil. “Go. You’ll accompany Lord Crestin on a tour of the grounds this evening.
Tomorrow, you’ll have lunch with Lord Alfred.
The next morning, after breakfast, you’ll sit in the parlor and have a pleasant conversation with Lord Finley.
Be prepared to entertain all three of them daily over the next week. ”
“If I can find the time.” She pinched her lips together, a hint of sarcasm edging into her tone.
Leaning back in his chair, he sighed. “What’s gotten into you lately? Those women at the cluster may have suggested you have some say in your life and fates help them if you believed them, but you’re home now, and you’re the princess of this court. I rule this kingdom, including you.”
“Perhaps I am a lot like my mother.”
His sigh rang out. “I miss her, and you’re right. You remind me so much of her. She… was headstrong as well.”
“And you loved her despite that.”
“I did,” he said, his gaze shooting down to his desk.
Isi rose from her chair, giving him a curtsy. “I look forward to visiting with the three lords.”
“Off with you, then. I have work to do.” Reaching into his pocket, he tossed a pouch that jingled onto the desk. “Here’s spending money. Buy yourself something pretty.”
I could tell by the indulgent look on his face that he really meant it. He hurt her, but somewhere inside his warped soul, he cared. No wonder she had a hard time fully turning away from him.
“That’s kind of you, Father.”
He smiled. “You’re a good girl most of the time, and I’m happy to indulge you on occasion, just as I did your mother.”
Isi took the pouch and walked toward the door, her steps steady despite what I knew she must be feeling.
The moment we stepped into the hallway, and the door had closed behind us, a tremor ran through her.
Her composure remained intact, a mask that fooled everyone but me.
I knew the precise curve of her spine when she braced herself for pain and recognized the particular rhythm of her steps as she fought to maintain dignity when all she felt was despair.
The urge to draw her into an alcove and hold her nearly overwhelmed me.
Instead, I maintained the right distance, my shadow falling behind hers on the marble floor. I was close enough to protect yet too far to comfort.
Every step through the corridors felt like torture. I wanted to take her hand and tell her we’d leave this place soon.
But walls listened. Guards watched. And they’d report anything unusual to her father.
As we passed a shadowed alcove, her fingers brushed mine in a fleeting touch, electric and gone in an instant. Yearning surged through me, deepening the ache.
We reached her suite, and I opened the door, gesturing for her to enter first.
Her usual ladies rose from where they were sitting near the fireplace, but my attention darted across the room.
A new woman stood near the window, her back to us as she examined the view. Her dark hair had been woven into tight braids then pulled into a knot at the base of her neck. She wore a deep green gown instead of fighting leathers.
At the sound of the door, she turned, her familiar eyes meeting mine.
“Your Highness,” Lexie said, dropping into a curtsy that was technically correct but lacked the practiced grace of a court-trained servant. “I’m Lexie. I’ve been assigned as your new lady-in-waiting.”
Isi’s eyes widened before she controlled her expression. “How lovely. Welcome.”
Lexie and I exchanged the briefest of nods.
The second part of my plan was now in place.