Page 18 of Sharpest Court

“That’s certainly an interesting way to manage a lovers’ spat,” she said.

“We were not lovers.”

“No?” Arun asked. “So you were not discovered in a nighttime tryst within the palace gallery? The king did not kiss you in full view of the court during the recent Rose Season fealty ceremony?”

My cheeks thrummed with embarrassment and shock.

Arun smiled coolly. “The eyes of Ansora see far and wide, Lady Alissa. And your belongings seem to confirm what they have observed.” He fished into his pocket, and my stomach dropped as he lifted Erik’s engagement ring. “Let us be frank with one another.” He returned the ring to his pocket. “We know you were publicly partnered with the king for several weeks.”

“Yet we were not lovers,” I bit out. “Erik handed me that ring while I was in chains. Despite the image we presented to court, he has always seen me as a possession. And I have always seen him as a monster.”

Rheya leaned back on her throne. “Which, I assume, is why you attacked him in your ballroom several weeks ago.” I jolted, and Rheya laughed softly. “Oh, we know Keil lied about having struck the king. Which meant he took the blame for another Wielder’s outburst. When I asked him and his companions for the name of that Wielder, do you know how many of them yielded? Zero.”

At what must have been my look of surprise, Rheya chuckled again. “Don’t flatter yourself, child. I suspect it was their collective loyalty to Keil that stayed their tongues.” Her voice hardened. “But when our sources unearthed news about your kidnapping, Keil inexplicably lobbied to return to Daradon, to again try for peace. He even suggested I make him a member of the Ansoran Gallery to ensure his political safety.”

I’d heard of the Gallery back in Daradon. It was an alleged inner circle of the Ansoran court, whose members were granted such expansive political protection that anyone who harmed them would immediately make themselves an enemy of Ansora.

I was still processing the fact that the Gallery actually existed when Rheya said, “I do not, however, offer a shield to those who would fashion it into a sword. Yet, when Keil persisted . . . it became clear who truly struck the king.”

I swallowed a rise of emotion. I’d been right about Keil wanting to protect my secrets; he’d even fought to return to Daradon when he’d believed I was in danger.

Now he might never know that I’d crossed the ocean after all.

“You can imagine how intrigued I was,” Rheya said, “to discover that the Wielder in question was not only the future bride of a Wielder-hating king. She was also a descendant of those who had been Hunting Wielders for generations.”

As Rheya clicked her claws together like a spider preparing for its meal, her message was clear: I wasn’t worth the sacrifice Keil had made for me. And she would grind that sentiment into my wounds like salt before shipping me back to Daradon.

“Yet still . . .” Her kohl-lined eyes narrowed. “You show no hint of apology.”

“We mustn’t blame Lady Alissa completely,” Arun said. “Her father must have taught her to never value any life above her own.”

Red hazed my vision, blotting all thought. “Don’t.” I fixed my stare on Arun, surprising even myself as I ordered, with the authority of a queen, “Don’t talk about my father.”

Satisfaction played around Arun’s lips. Then he dipped his head slightly, eyes never leaving mine.

I dragged my stare back to Rheya, who was eagerly watching me.

“Erik planted false reports about my kidnapping,” I said. “He probably framed it as classified information so you would be more willing to take the bait. And here you are, using your intelligence network for his benefit, tracking me down just to use me as a bargaining tool in a game he has already rigged. Do you truly believe that such a man could be trusted to maintain any political relationship that would arise from you handing me over?”

“Oh, I certainly do not,” Rheya said.

“Then why should I be treated differently from the Daradonian Wielders you risked a war to relocate? Out of spite?” I looked her over, from the relaxed, regal posture to the sunburst crown giving her the glow of a lazy goddess. Her apathy in the face of my desperation added kindling to my fury.

“All of Daradon sees you as a tyrant,” I said. “Where you could have been a figurehead for Wielders, you are instead an emblem of cruelty. I was recently led to believe that your reputation was built upon rumors. But within hours of reaching your shores, you have successfully relieved me of any illusion that those rumors were untrue.”

I finished in a rush of anger, my breaths roaring out. Rheya’s eyes had widened with true surprise, while Arun stood rigid—a sentry ready to pounce.

Then, impossibly, Rheya released a burst of tinkling laughter. “How delightful,” she crooned, teeth flashing with her grin. “A shamelessly self-serving argument, yet compelling nonetheless. I understand what he sees in you.”

“I told you. Erik only sees me as a possession.”

She said, still smiling, “I wasn’t referring to your king.”

The words were just penetrating when a crash reverberated from behind.

I jumped, spinning to see the double doors swing wide. Half a dozen guards crashed backward into the throne room, their armor screeching.

I didn’t have time to wonder what was happening or who was orchestrating this attack. I only knew it was the distraction I needed.