Page 60 of The Prince's Fealty

Maybeshewas the fool.

Impotent fury mingled with despair flooded her. She’d known he was unhappy, but she’d thought he’d agreed to make the best of it like she had. They spent as little time together as possible and showed a more or less united front in public to maintain their political alliance. She ignored his dalliances, he left her to spend her days with Hena and Par, and it wasn’t… it wasn’tperfect, but it was acceptable. Wasn’t it?

Apparently not. Thurnil hadn’t been making the best of it, he’d been biding his time. He’d aligned himself with someone trying to destroy the entirety of the United Realms on an empty promise that Thurnil could get what he wanted with none of the risks.

No wonder he’d been upset when the guard had attacked. He hadn’t been worried about Ada, he’d been worried abouthimself.

Ada glanced back at Nostex, the king to whom that guard reported. She’d assumed it was someone pretending to be a guard or one man gone bad. But it was slowly dawning on her that it was most likely someone who’d been doing exactly as they’d been ordered.

She swallowed thickly. “Mercenaries followed us here, I suppose?” she asked in a voice that was almost steady. “You did everything in your power to protect us but were overpowered?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Exactly so, Princess.”

With a shiver, she wondered how close she’d come to being attacked on the road. But Thurnil and the guards would have opposed it then. Var had sent one of Tor’s troop, and Harili would have defended her with everything they had. Ada could have fought back against non-Extraordinary assailants and might have won.

Here, she was woefully unprepared, and Nostex could twist the events to fit his story.

Nostex turned to Thurnil with a smile that made Ada cringe.

“I did make you a promise, didn’t I?”

He moved so quickly that Thurnil didn’t even have time to look surprised. His hand clamped to his throat, but he was already falling to the ground with a horrible gurgling noise, as red spurted out between his fingers.

Fernila screamed, loud and shrill, and Cala began to cry.

Nostex looked almost indifferent with a hint of… amusement? Staring down at the body on the floor in front of him, he said conversationally. “The bond won’t kill you, as promised.”

The tidal wave of pain took Ada by surprise, and she found herself on the floor without any memory of falling. Her shield was gone, but through blurry eyes, she could see that Var’s was still there, still protecting her from the man who’d just murdered her husband… because it was a way to get to her.

Her body was on fire, like someone was jabbing her with a red-hot pokereverywhereall at once. Her magic was being wrenched forcibly through skin and bone and muscle as if someone was hooking inside of her andyanking.

Her throat felt raw, and she knew she had to be screaming, but she was helpless to stop it. She needed to apologize to Fernila and Cala for putting them through this. But she didn’t seem to be capable of doing anything except writhing on the floor and screaming and screaming and screaming.

She’d thought she’d grown used to pain with Thurnil’s magic bonded with hers, but she was so terribly wrong.

The pain spiked deep inside, and she clutched at her chest. When blackness swirled up around her, she welcomed it.

Chapter Thirteen

Tor

Before they left, Tor checked with Pel’s mother to make sure that the exiles could still govern themselves while he was gone.

“I mean—” He made a face. “We didn’t actually talk about very many details of what me having most of the exiles’ Fealty actually means. I suspect I need to be involved in the leadership if your theory is correct, but I’m definitely open to coming up with something that makes everyone feel comfortable.”

Tor might be a prince, but he hadn’t actually been raised to rule. He’d been raised to support Varex, and then he hadn’t even been permitted to do that. Now, he felt a lot like a thirty-five-year-old novice who’d just been handed an entire realm.

“I feel like there should be more consultation with the citizens,” Tor told Istila. “I know rulers often have advisors, but those feel like very specific positions—and honestly, at the moment, I’m leaning heavily against them thanks to Yomil, though I realize that’s probably not the position’s fault. But what if we had something more like a voting body with representatives from the community?”

She blinked at him, looking taken aback.

“It’s just an idea,” he said hurriedly.

A slow smile spread across her face. “I think we’ll be just fine, Prince Torex, and we look forward to discussing this with you when you return.”

Consulting the experts in their fields who actually lived in this realm seemed like a smart move to Tor, anyway, and he trusted that Istila would pass the word around and start getting more ideas from people.

He didn’t want to repeat what had led to the war and the exiles.