Page 28 of Blood On His Lips

I took a deep breath. Arguing with the Prince, particularly here and now, would do my House no good. But I had to try. “Everenne does, in fact, have a judicial process.”

His fingertips brushed my cheek, leaving a shiver of sensation under my skin. His eyes were cold, so cold, as yielding as the stones of his palace but strangely gentle. “I am the judicial process, its root and its canopy.”

Time. I needed time. What was his purpose in forcing my hand? If he wanted them dead so badly, he could do it himself. But he wantedmeto wield the blade.

My fingers tightened around the hilt. “What else did they tell you?”

“Nothing of note.”

Baroun examined his matte black nails. “He peeled their minds open like pomegranates. If they knew anything, that knowledge was taken from them. If it ever existed.”

I suppressed a visceral shudder, grimly abandoning hope. “Only a High Fae could do something like that.”

Or an Ancient. I had to consider the possibility, though it seemed ridiculous. I just wasn’t that important.

“Yes.” Renaud's voice was a slap. “When you learn who works against me, who dares touch what is mine, their screams will be heard across the city.

“Yes, you keep saying that.” I stared at the three.

“I did not wish to wake to bloodshed, Aerinne, but if my enemy desires war, they shall have it.”

ChapterNine

I turneda steely gaze on Renaud. “I won't kill them. Neither will you.”

“Are you now the Princess?” Baroun asked, the silken challenge in his voice rubbing raw on my nerves. “I missed the abdication, apparently.”

I lifted Renaud’s sword, pointing it at Baroun. “Silence, worm.” Then I sighed, rubbing my free hand over my face before pinning the Prince with a grim stare. “There's been enough violence on both sides.”

A hint of thunder in his gaze. “Very well. If you won’t accept their deaths, consider their lives a gift to you.”

I reared back, lifting my hand, palm facing him. “No. No. I don't want any gifts. I don’t want to be responsible for them.”

Renaud’s exquisite, purgatory born smile was a thing of terrible beauty. Would it always be entwined with the hint of a winter grave?

“Either you take them as yours, or I will take them as mine.”

“You bastard.”

He lifted a hand, cupping my cheek, his nails delicate points on my skin. “Yes. But you already knew this.”

If I abandoned them here, the Prince would kill them. The only reason I fought for their lives was because I was sick of bloodshed, and they were mere pawns. But I couldn’t just let them run around the city, and Faronne didn’t take prisoners.

I glanced at Édouard. He’d finished scanning the documents and had stashed them somewhere.

“I’ll take them,” he said, stony face unchanging. “I have further questions regarding Sivenne.” And little trust in the Montagues, his expression said.

Another problem to deal with. I wished Baroun hadn’t revealed that information in front of the Court, because it would force us to deal with the leak publicly or set a poor precedent.

“You will report to me before any permanent action is taken,” I said, glancing at my father.

“As our Lady wishes,” Baba said. He inclined his head to Renaud. “Prince. Faronne will not forget your indulgence of our daughter in this matter. She works tirelessly to uphold the peace you have decreed.”

I almost snorted. Baroun turned his head away slightly, and I squinted for a second, wondering if he was making a gagging noise or rolling his eyes. Either expression would be undignified for a Lord of his age and tenure.

Renaud lifted a hand. “It is a small favor. My anger is personal and does not hold sway over Faronne’s right. But fair warning, Lord Étienne, your daughter’s halfling heart or no; punish them, control them, do what you will—but if they cross my path again, I will assuage my anger with their deaths.”

I bit back a retort. The concession was fair, more than fair. The warriors deserved a fair trial, and sentencing commensurate with their crime if they weren’t victims themselves, but as the Prince had said—he was the ultimate law here, and he had already passed sentence, commuted only as an indulgence to my weakness.

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