29. Lilias
Lilias
STILL MARRIABLE
Idon’t have an overabundance of outfits to choose from.
I rock back on my heels and frown at the two dresses I pulled from the saddlebags that were brought to our room.
Anura’s mother was kind enough to wash the faded green traveling dress Agnes gave me in Dungal, but that was before I stuffed it into a bag for three days of hard travel over the mountain pass.
Still, it’s better than my second option.
A servant’s dress from the hunting camp that’s probably been stored in a cedar chest since before I was born.
Anura’s mother washed that one too, gods bless her, and steamed out the wrinkles.
Still, the white accents have gone yellow.
And it’s obviously something a woman would wear to work in the kitchen.
With a sigh, I pull off the heavy velvet dress I wore last night. It’s my nicest dress, which is why I wore it as we rode to the palace, but I can’t wear it two days in a row. I shake it out, then walk to the wardrobe to hang it up.
My cheeks burn as I glance at the thick carpet, which is now stained dark red and still smells like wine. I can’t believe I was on my hands and knees there last night, with Zarek—
My heart does a strange little flutter, and I gulp air. Gods, I didn’t know it could feel like that. How does anyone do anything at all when you could make love like that instead?
I walk over to the washbasin, splash my cheeks with cool water, then dry my face with a towel.
I’ll talk to Zarek tonight. I’ll apologize for not believing him, for doubting there was something more going on in Ethiria.
He saw the truth before any of us. I’ll tell him I’m sorry, that I should have listened to him—
Maybe after I bend over for him again.
The thought makes me feel like the room is too hot, and suddenly, I just want the day to be over. I pull on the dress from Dungal, with its sensible cut and soft, faded green folds, take a few deep breaths, and leave the room to request a tour of the stables.
I start in the reception room where we waited for Prince Laurance yesterday.
The plates of crackers are still on the sideboard, but there’s no one in the room.
Odd. I wander the hall between our room and the reception area, smiling politely, but I still don’t find anyone. It’s like the entire floor is deserted.
After a bit of wandering, I find a door that leads to a large patio.
I push it open, then step outside. A gust of wind presses my dress against my legs.
In the distance, the ocean sparkles like a bowl filled with gems. I walk to the railing and stare at the sunlight spilling over the water.
This place looks familiar, almost like I’ve been here in a dream.
“Oh, there you are,” a man says from behind me.
I jump, then take a breath to calm myself. When I turn around, I see Prince Laurance standing in the doorway behind me. I bow politely.
“Prince Laurance,” I say as cheerfully as I can manage. “I thought you were joining my brother for the tour.”
Laurance shrugs as he walks toward me. “I’ll get there eventually,” he says. “There’s no rush. It’s not like the cliffs are going anywhere!”
He laughs at his own joke, then turns to stare at the far corner of the wide patio.
“This is where I’ll have my wedding,” he says. “Lovely view, isn’t it?”
Oh. My breath catches in the back of my throat. That’s why this place looks familiar. I came here as a child, with my nursemaid. She waved her hand over the cold stone and said this was where I would marry the prince. It just all looked so much bigger in my memories.
I smile and nod.
“It is beautiful,” I say. “I remember it now.”
Laurance finally turns to me.
“Where did your brother find his bride?” he asks.
My hands twist at my waist. I can’t admit Anura was a serving girl, but I can’t exactly lie either.
“Oh,” I finally reply, smiling wide, “he’s known her for years.”
Laurance frowns, then turns back to the patio, and I thank any gods who might be listening that he doesn’t seem interested enough to ask any further questions.
“I was supposed to marry you,” Laurance says suddenly, like the thought just occurred to him.
I make a low, agreeable hum in the back of my throat.
“My father kept delaying it,” he continues. “He said he didn’t want Marion messing around with us!”
Laurance laughs again, like this is another joke. I blink.
I was never certain why my marriage to Laurance kept getting delayed.
Elrick blamed our father, and our father blamed the king of Ethiria.
I didn’t ask questions, for fear that any curiosity on my part would be interpreted as enthusiasm for the match.
To be honest, I would have been delighted if Ethiria kept putting off the wedding for the rest of my life.
Laurance turns back to me, staring directly at my chest. Panic climbs the back of my spine with sharp little claws.
“You’re still marriable,” he announces.
“I’m married,” I reply.
“We’re supposed to be allied with Marion,” Laurance says, as if he didn’t hear a word I said. “And I suppose a second marriage is better than no marriage. At least you’re royalty. And it would be good of me to show some charity, you know, with your kingdom falling into ruin and all that.”
“I’m already married,” I repeat.
Prince Laurance finally looks at me. It’s the way men who came to the Marion stables looked at the horses they were thinking of buying. Panic pulls tight around my throat, like an invisible rope cutting off my air.
“I don’t think the snake is very popular in Vsenrog anymore,” Laurance says, with a nasty little smile. “And, hells, they’re saying you started the war because you were so desperate to be with me. So, why not?”
“I am married!” I cry.
Laurance frowns like he doesn’t understand what I’m talking about. Gods above, would I really have married him? Even if I was forced into the temple, could I have looked into his eyes and said the words?
“But you’re married to the snake,” Laurance replies. “He’s not even from Vsenrog.”
“He’s my husband,” I say.
Laurance waves his hand in the air like he’s brushing away my words. “I know women have trouble thinking strategically,” he says.
I sputter an objection, but Laurance just keeps talking.
“But, if you consider your options,” he says, “which you really should, since you’re the princess, allying with Ethiria makes far more sense. Or are you, uh—” His voice cuts off, and he looks like he’s about to be sick. “You’re not expecting, are you? Because that would be a problem.”
“It’s a much bigger problem,” I snap, “that I am already married, and my husband is right here, staying with me under your roof!”
Laurance shakes his head. “Oh, that’s not a problem at all,” he says. “Accidents happen all the time. He could fall from a horse, or trip down the stairs, or—”
I stop listening. The world grows quiet, and suddenly, I’m very cold and very calm.
“Do not threaten my husband,” I say in a low, even voice.
My hand drops to my dress and slides between the folds to my pocket. The pocket I cut a hole in this morning, after pulling the dress over my head.
“The messengers from Vsenrog said the snake died in the mountains,” Laurance says, continuing like he didn’t hear me. “What’s the harm if we just make that true? As long as you’re not knocked up, there’s no problem.”
The pommel of Zarek’s dagger is warm against my palm. I wrap my fingers around it, then pull it from its sheath. With my other hand, I reach forward and grab the ruff of lace around Laurance’s neck.
“Whoa!” he cries. “I see you’re excited, but—”
I raise the dagger. His eyes go wide. The prince of Ethiria finally shuts up.
“Laurance,” I say, in a voice so low it’s almost a whisper. “I am already married.”
I bring the edge of the blade to his throat. He swallows hard.
“O-Okay,” he stammers.
“I will never marry you,” I promise. “And, if any harm comes to my husband, I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your life.”
He stammers something. I lean even closer, so I can whisper in his ear.
“Princes bleed like everyone else,” I tell him. “I should know.”
I lean back, leaving the blade resting against his throat, just above the stupid lace ruff on his collar.
“Do I make myself clear?” I ask.
He nods, and I let go of his shirt. He stumbles backward, gasping like a fish on a hook, his eyes wide and his face very pale. We stare at each other across the smooth stone patio where we were supposed to be married.
“You—” he finally spits. “You crazy bitch!”
I slide the dagger back into its sheath and cross my arms over my chest. I’ve traveled too far and seen too much to be intimidated by this spoiled little brat. Laurance wipes his mouth, then runs his hand over his neck, like he’s making sure I didn’t slit his throat without him noticing.
“Thank the gods I didn’t have to marry you,” he snaps.
“I wholeheartedly agree,” I tell him as he turns to run back into his castle.