Page 46 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

“Well, if you weren’t in the East Tower,” the guard says, his voice dripping with disbelief, “then why were you coming from that direction?”

“I was looking for my betrothed,” I snap. “You know, His Highness, the Crown Prince?”

The guard arches a brow. “You were looking for His Highness?”

“Yes.” I cross my arms, sticking out my chin. “He was supposed to join me for a walk on the grounds. Though, now, since he’s late, I can’t say I’ll accompany him.”

The guard sneers at me. “You think you can lie to me, human?”

“Fine, don’t believe me.” I throw up my hands in surrender. “Throw me in the dungeons, for all I care. Go ahead and invoke His Highness’s wrath. I dare you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” a deep voice commands.

The guard and I turn simultaneously. Viridian stands before us, holding his hands behind his back. The picture of regality.

He looks at me first, meeting my eyes. Interest sparks in his expression, a questioning look flashing in his gaze. Then he turns to the guard, his face hardening to stone almost instantly.

“When my betrothed speaks to you, she is to be believed.” Viridian’s voice turns icy. “Is that clear?”

The guard swallows nervously and bows his head. “Yes, Your Highness. My mistake.”

“Your mistake indeed,” Viridian echoes. “One that is not to be repeated.” He waves his hand. “Return to your post.”

The guard bows again, and then leaves swiftly.

“I apologize for my tardiness, Miss Thurdred,” Viridian says, loudly enough for any other nearby guards or servants to hear. “I had business to attend to.”

I play along, thanking him with my eyes. “Very well. Perhaps I’ll allow you to walk me to my room to make up for it.”

“I’d like that.” Viridian smiles, and it’s hard for me to decipher whether it’s genuine or simply part of the act. Unclasping his hands, he gestures for me to go ahead.

I do. Viridian falls into step beside me.

Once the guards are out of earshot, he peers over at me.

“Care to explain to me what it was you were doing?” he whispers.

“Nothing.”

His lips curve upward, but it’s not a smile. “Oh, really? Nothing at all?”

“Yes.”

Viridian presses his lips together. “You will be the death of me, won’t you, Little Fawn?”

“Don’t assume you’ll be so lucky,” I counter.

This time, he grins. “My mistake.”

We stop when we reach my room.

“Thank you,” I tell him. This is the second time I’ve had to thank him. It feels like defeat. Like surrender. What would Loren say if he saw me conspiring with the enemy?

Viridian pauses, surprise raising his brows. “You’re welcome.”

I expect him to leave, but he doesn’t.

“What are you doing?” I ask bluntly. “You can go now.”

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