Page 119 of Settle Down, Princess

There was a reason I never allowed myself to care about any woman since the death of Ariel and that was this. I strode into that fucking room, full of my brother’s sycophants and lickspittles, and barely restrained myself from jerking my sword free and just starting stabbing. There were no innocents—no one I could be bothered to spare, bar Selene, but when I saw her standing in front of my princess, my queen, it helped still the fire that burned inside of my heart. For the briefest of seconds, I felt a rush of relief that there was someone here looking out for Jessalyn, but it didn’t last long.

It should’ve been me.

Over and over, I had failed every single one of the princesses—a track record that began with Ariel and continued over the years since. Suddenly, the idea of continuing that tradition was unbearable.

“Did he hurt you?” Magnus had stormed out of the room, shouting for his generals. Good. I’d have still asked the same words, drawn closer to Jessalyn like a bee might a beautiful flower. “Did he?”

I barked out questions like Jess was a soldier for me to command, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself doing that, nor this. My hands took hers, blanching when I saw how tiny they were, but I pushed past that, searching for signs. Of broken nails from having to fight Magnus off. Or blood caked under the perfect almond shaped tips. Of joints swollen, fingers hanging at strange angles, but I found no evidence of that, which pushed me onwards. My hands slid up her arms, the thick brocade of her dress harsh against my palms when I knew her skin was so damn soft underneath.

“No,” Jessalyn replied crisply, going to pull away, but she let out a small hiss when my hands skimmed over her biceps.

“What’s that then?”

I was being a brute, spinning the princess around and undoing the lacing of her dress, just like my brother had intended to do before the entire court. My fingers paused for just a second, my breath coming in hard and fast before I forced my lungs to still and then fill much more slowly.

“Magnus grabbed me hard,” Jessalyn replied, only the tiniest of tremors evident in her voice. “You saw that, saw him do the same to the other girls.”

“I don’t care about the other girls.” I should. They didn’t deserve to be treated this way by my brother any more than the princesses did, but none of that good sense seemed to pierce the hot, red veil of fury that coloured my field of vision. “I care about…”

My words dried in my throat as I peeled her sleeve back and saw the purplish bruise.

“Gods, what did he fucking do?” Roan said.

If I was worried about a stray courtier passing the open doorway and seeing us undress our future queen, I needn’t have. Roan and Silas clustered closer, their focus and mine entirely trained on the dark mark on her arm, the centre of it a sick greenish colour.

“He hurt you?” Roan usually laughed, told jokes and tall stories with the other soldiers. He shouted for more beer until his voice started to slur, but the one thing he didn’t do was growl in a way that rivalled Creed, like he did now. “That fucking bastard, I’ll kill him.”

“We’ll have poison in his evening meal.” Silas’ tone gave no indication of what he felt, but his green eyes burned brightly now in a face that was milk pale. “We’ll have to find a means to bribe his team of meal tasters.”

“Regicide?” Jessalyn jerked out of my grip. “Poisonings? And a war breaking out… over me?” On any other woman that would’ve been a coquettish thing, but the princess tugged her dress back into place, reaching behind to tighten the laces and tie them in place. Those keen eyes seemed to take me and my band in—no, the entire situation—as her mind began to tick over. “You negotiated that with my father?”

I smiled despite myself, but it was more akin to the open mouth of a panting wolf than anything a man might do.

“I told Magnus not to marry the princess royal of Stormare. All his previous… victims came from far-flung realms. Small ones, ones led by weak kings or queens who would do little to retaliate against his show of ‘strength.’” I shook my head slowly. “But no one has ever accused my brother of possessing good sense. Your father was understandably worried.”

She let out a little sigh, her eyes growing suspiciously shiny.

“I worked with him long and hard on the contract to try and alleviate those concerns. He hadn’t considered the idea that Lanzene and Matteau might be looking for an excuse, any excuse, to wage another war against Khean.”

“You’d jeopardise your own country?”

Jessalyn looked me over with a concerned expression, but she didn’t know of everything I’d tried to do for Khean. Only to fail every time.

“I don’t care for my country.” I shouldn’t be saying that. “I don’t care for the fucking aristocracy that stood by and watched my father be slain and then turned on Ariel and her father, the Duke, when they tried to do what was right. I joined the army because I was forced to, because all those murderous impulses I nursed in my breast had to go somewhere. Why not against the bloody Lanzenians or Mattenites?”

I snorted.

“Everything I’ve ever cared for in this world was snatched away from me by someone who claimed Kheanian blood, which forced me to harden my heart against everyone but those who I could trust to hold their own.”

I glanced at Roan, then Silas, and both nodded slowly.

“I thought that’s what I had to do, to endure, to show my brother that he would never break me. When I spoke to your father, I thought he had gifted me the means to finally strike back at my brother, but instead…”

I had no right to touch her. I’d destroyed Jessalyn’s illusions, her modesty, her hope for the future, as surely as my brother would when he finally got his hands on her, but I liked to tell myself I was much gentler with it. That when my hands slid up her arms, I avoided the painful places, keeping my touch light. My palms caressed the small, rounded points of her shoulders, her bones feeling like they pressed through the elaborate fabric, making her vulnerability apparent.

“I found something far more dangerous, more precious.” Jessalyn’s eyes were a sea I would gladly drown in. Storm clouds formed and scudded past as she stared. “Hope, Jessalyn, Princess, Queen.” I shook my head slowly. “For that I will bring war to my countrymen. I will commit regicide, fratricide, and bear the sin of being a kin killer.” My grin widened. “There is nothing I won’t do to keep you safe.”

“So then let’s get Her Highness to the temple.” Selene’s voice was like a splash of ice water on my face. “There she is untouchable for seven days at least. The king will return to his chambers in a… testy mood after he has met with his generals. We don’t want to provide him with an easy target for that rage.”

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