Page 15 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

If I want to free Loren and make our escape, I’ll need to find him first.

Crossing the room, I rest my hand on the door handle and slowly push it open. I poke my head into the hallway.

The sounds of far-off footsteps and distinct chatter meet my ears, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone around.

I leave my chamber, gently closing the door behind me.

Careful not to make too much noise, I start down the hallway toward the stairs that the guards led me up yesterday. I come into the bright corridor and make it halfway through before I pause.

Voices echo.

I press my body to the cold, stone wall, my palms flat to keep me steady. Cocking my head, I focus. The voices are coming from ahead of me, where I remember there’s an open area at the top of the staircase. I inch closer, stopping until I’m just behind the archway that leads out of this hallway.

“She is your betrothed, Viridian,” a sharp, feminine voice says. It’s Lymseia. “You should go see her.”

I hold my breath.

“You know I didn’t want this,” a deep voice replies. That one, I instantly recognize as the Crown Prince. “My father—even the gods, it would seem—is the one who wants this marriage. Not me.”

Why would the High King force Viridian to marry me?

“It doesn’t matter whether you want it or not,” Lymseia says. “She’s here because of you. For you. It’s time you stopped being so pig-headed and started acting like an engaged male.”

“Pig-headed?” he scoffs.

“Yes. Pig-headed.”

I cover my mouth to stifle my laugh. I barely know Lymseia, but now, I can’t help but respect her.

There’s a tense silence. Then, Viridian lets out a long sigh. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll court her, if she wishes to be courted. But if she doesn’t,” he says, voice hardening, “I won’t force her.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Very well.” He doesn’t sound pleased. If anything, it sounds like he despises the thought of courting me. Disappointment sinks in my chest, weighing me down like gohlrunn.

The knowledge that Viridian doesn’t want to court me shouldn’t upset me. It doesn’t change my plan—to find Loren and run away together, somewhere far from here. Far from Viridian.

So why does it bother me?

Footsteps echo on stone, growing louder in volume, until I’m facing Viridian. His dark brows rise in surprise, just for a moment, before they furrow again.

“Good morning,” he says gruffly. Embarrassment heats my cheeks. He must know I overheard him.

Scowling at him, I say nothing. His mouth tightens. Letting out a forceful breath, he brushes past me and storms down the hall.

I step forward, moving out from behind the corner. Lymseia’s expression softens when she sees me, mouth curving downward with something that looks like pity. I don’t like it.

I don’t need her pity.

After all, Viridian and I don’t want to marry each other.

“Don’t mind him,” she tells me. “He’s a pleasure to be around once he gets his head out of his ass.”

“Oh, I bet he’s a delight,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

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