Page 24 of Blood On His Lips

Hmm. Aerinne was difficult, yes. Seduce her, and she would feel guilt and self-loathing. Coerce her, and she would chew off her own hand trying to escape. So he must walk a delicate balance.

But first.

Renaud forced himself to focus. It was still difficult not to drift.

Baroun toed the body slumped on the floor. Blood sloped towards a drain in the center of circular room.

“He lives,” Renaud said, proving he too understood how to point out the obvious. He itched under his skin, both because it seemed ill-fitted and because he was unused to restraining his baser nature. His halfling should be pleased. “Do I not get biscuit points for that?”

“Brownie points.”

“You understood me.”

“Are you going to give them to her? She won't kill them.”

“She will.”

Baroun snorted. “Would you care to wager? I've been watching that girl. She is Muriel's daughter.” He said it with distaste.

“I know who Aerinne is better than you. She will do what she must.”

. . .Eventually. With some. . .encouragement. ShewasMuriel’s daughter, and his childhood friend had not been considered gentle, nor squeamish.

“I hope you know what you're doing. You already made one mistake with—”

“Enough.”

Baroun was silent merely a moment. “And what will you do when she proves too weak?”

His cousin spoke with such exquisite deference Renaud knew it for the insult it was. He struck the boy with a backhanded blow. “I tolerate sarcasm, barely, from Aerinne. She is theonlyone I will not kill for it.”

Baroun blotted the blood at his mouth. “You love her. Forgive me, my Lord. I did not realize.”

Renaud didn’t dignify that with a reply. He refrained from killing the boy for speaking aloud so glaring a weakness, which proved he also loved his cousin. He’d thought he’d escaped the noose of those kinds of bonds when he’d distanced himself from Muriel and Nur. . .but, of course, his own heart was as weak as his halfling’s. It was probably why they were so inexplicably suited.

“Very well, don't listen to me. You rarely do.” The boy stepped over the unconscious warrior and strode to the door. “I'll send word to Commander Édouard. He needs to hear there's a traitor in their House, though I expect he already knows. He's the best hope of making his Lady see reason.”

“Baroun.”

His cousin halted.

“Make your peace with her.”

After a moment, the boy shrugged. “If you wish. I can see her appeal. We’ve become as close as dear enemies over the years.” He gave Renaud a final, sly look before slipping out of the room.

Renaud ignored the teasing—Baroun knew he would suffer a long, slow fate worse than death if he touched Aerinne.

He flicked his fingers at the guards, and a pair peeled away from the wall and hauled the broken warrior off the floor. The three Fae he'd tortured would be gifts to his Princess.

Baroun didn't understand Renaud had no expectation Aerinne would kill them as she should—the opposite, in fact.

She would fight at first. Flail and wail against the necessity of wielding a firm hand. It would be easier to guide her once she was enslaved to his bed, though he would have to take care not to catch himself in his own snares.

But the first step in the battle of Aerinne Kuthliele would be to lead her down a path that ultimately would make of her what he required in the Princess who stood at his side in this realm, in Avellonne and finally, in Ninephe.

She could not rule Fae, Dark Fae, with her soft halfling heart, and she certainly could not withstand the games in the old Court.

He was not optimistic. His parents would come for him; he was his mother's youngest, after all. Aerinne would fall beneath their feet, crushed like any other insect. He could not let that happen.

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