Chapter 48
My fingers halt their aimless path along her stomach, and a ringing fills my ears. “Married? To who?”
Her eyes glaze over. “We had been secretly gathering our forces, training them to take down Caelus’s air armada. Elias didn’t want to marry her, and that’s why he fled. But we needed the alliance, so I pretended to take his place, but…”
Her voice trails off, and my heart pounds, thumping against each rib so hard it might break bone. I can’t breathe, can’t do anything but stop my fingers from digging into her skin.
My voice lowers to a whisper. “Who was he meant to marry, Kressa?”
Her gaze meets mine. “The Princess of the Sea.”
I bolt upright and clutch the sheets against my chest, my bare skin suddenly too vulnerable. “You aren’t just friends with Barren.”
She shakes her head. “He goes by Elias, to close friends and family. But Elias—Prince Barren I should say, is my brother.”
My throat tightens. “And you?”
The answer sours on my tongue, but I don’t dare say it out loud. As if keeping it in my mouth means it can’t exist. I back off the edge of the bed and stand, my legs unsteady.
She reaches for me, but I flinch back.
“This changes nothing, Briar.”
“It changes everything. Now, answer my question.”
She glamoured herself and nearly conned not only me, but her brother into a marriage neither of us wanted.
Her face goes slack, and she pushes from the bed, taking a step toward me.
I retreat and snatch my dagger, holding it out. “Golan didn’t have any female heirs. I’ll ask one last time. Who are you?”
My voice almost cracks, but I grit my teeth and hold it together. It feels sacrilegious, holding out a blade after falling into her arms. Sharing her bed. Coming undone for her.
I scoop my nightdress from the floor, fingers trembling as I slide it on.
“Please, Briar.” She stands, and her shirt falls past her hips.
“Let me explain. My father didn’t want anyone to know about me.
I’ve been kept a secret my entire life. Every movement I’ve made, every choice I’ve been given, has been controlled by him for the good of the kingdom. Please, believe me, I lo—”
“Do not finish that sentence.”
She freezes.
My knuckles blanch on the hilt of my blade. Behind the betrayal and rage, I’m nothing but a fool, falling for the sister of the man I was given to against my will. The one I failed to kill. I swallow, and a stone settles in my gut.
I shared my power with her.
Ten years ago, I tried to kill her.
I shift. “So, you’re a princess.”
She nods. “Princess Cordelia. Next in line to the throne.”
“So when your father dies, that makes you—”
“Queen,” she finishes.
A wrench twists at my chest, and I retreat another step.
That was her blood I watched pool across the stone floor, not Barren’s. Her throat I slit. I watched the life blink out of her eyes—her chest halt its breathing. “How did you survive?”
She shrugs. “One moment, she dragged a blade across my throat, and the next I woke up on a ship to Ignata. The healers called it a miracle. Maybe she didn’t hit an artery.”
I most certainly hit an artery. I severed it. She shouldn’t have survived the blow or the blood loss.
A strangled huff comes from my throat, and I point the tip of my dagger at her chest. “Give my power back, or I’ll carve it from your chest myself.”
“No.”
I angle the dagger. “It wasn’t a question, Cordelia.”
“Don’t call me that.” Her words are thick, hurt. “I’m Kressa.”
“Would liar be better? Or do you prefer I resort to formalities and call you Queen? Your Highness, perhaps?”
She steps closer, pressing her chest to the tip of my blade. “You won’t hurt me.”
A dare.
“The hundreds I’ve killed beg to differ.”
Her chest moves a breath closer, and the tip of my blade pierces skin, drawing a bead of crimson onto the metal. Something in me softens, and my traitorous arm snaps to my side.
I avert my gaze and turn to the door. “Never speak to me again, and stay out of my fucking head.”
She flinches back, and my hands ache to comfort her, but I grip the doorknob. She’s spent weeks telling me how much she loathes the Princess of the Sea. And now it all makes sense.
Her brother was almost my husband.
And my refusal to marry was the downfall of her kingdom.
Before she has a chance to stop me, I throw the door open and retreat to Harriet’s room. I toss my nightgown to the floor and rip a pair of leggings and tunic from the armoire. Empty of Kressa’s heat, the cold air in the room bites at my skin.
Kneeling at the bed, I yank the bag of jewels from under the mattress and secure it to my waist. Raindrops roll down the windowpane as I cross to the servant’s door and trace the path to Gemma’s room in my head.
The only person capable of hiding an identity.