Page 12 of Heir to His Court

“And yet you threaten Everenne as well.”

“Who told you that?”

Nayya had. Which, of course, Juhainah knew.

“Poor child,” she murmured. “You will forever stumble in the darkness along the edge of a cliff when there is the bridge just a step to your side.”

“And you are that bridge?” This time I unleashed my scorn.

She folded her arms in front of her. “The first bridge is always knowledge. The ignorant make easy tools, all the better if they're powerful.”

I couldn't argue. “What do you offer me, Exalted, to inhabit my body once I'm killed?” As if I couldn’t envisage a dozen ways she could bring that eventuality to pass.

“I will offer you access to your power, Aerinne.”

I waved a hand. “Raniel will aid me, or at least set me on the path.” That he wants me to go. “His methods are unorthodox, and borderline lethal, true, but. . .”

“Very well, Granddaughter. I will bend my attention to seeking a better enticement for you.”

I stilled. I'd walked right into that trap and recognized the threat for what it was.

“No, I—”

She was gone, and Avallonne vanished.

ChapterFive

Iinhaled, choking as if water had filled my lungs, and thrashed. Someone cursed, arms tightening around me, and then everything tilted as I was dumped on my feet.

“If you hit me,” Baroun warned, “I will hit you back. I will enjoy it. Immensely. So. . .hit me, please.”

I’d never come out of a dreamscape feeling like I was drowning. Proof Juhainah hadn’t been entirely happy with me.

The feeling was fucking mutual.

After a moment I could see, and convinced my lungs I could breathe. I stepped away from the Lord of Montague, ignoring his scrutiny, giving my surroundings a cursory glance.

We were in the palace courtyard, silver-and-white Montague warriors surrounding us. In shadows here and there was the occasional White Guard, face veiled.

A servant in palace livery emerged from the palace at a swift but unhurried pace.

“Lady Aerinne,” she said with a bow, “Lord Baroun, if you will follow me. The Prince is expecting you both.”

The servant sounded as if she was escorting us to tea, and not to the Prince holding two of the most important males in my life hostage.Soon, Danon,I promised.I am coming for you soon. Endure a little longer.I wouldnotmake my brother a hostage if the Prince was not already minded to use him in that fashion.

She led us to an antechamber, high ceilinged and minimally furnished, vases of tall flowers placed on delicate tables breaking the monochromatic monotony. The Prince was not fond of color, evidently, other than what nature provided. I wondered if color offered too much of a sensory overload. I quickly pinpointed each exit in the chamber, then focused on Baba and Numair as Baroun sauntered forward, paused, and picked up a wineglass from the low table and drained it.

“Your Faronnesse almost got herself torn apart by a crowd of frightened peasants,” Baroun said. “It would have been a memorable end.” He ignored my father and Numair.

I gave him a nasty look, then focused on my family. “Are you both well?”

They occupied the only seating arrangement in the room. Three chairs, and a divan type couch arranged around a low table set with another vase of flowers as well as a glass pitcher of water, and a carafe of red wine. Baba looked composed, relaxed even, and Numair appeared mostly uninjured.

He knew me well enough, for he immediately lifted his hands, and wiggled them at the wrists.

I scowled. “Are you a child? That's not funny.”

Numair didn't smile, not in the present company, but there was a smirk in his eyes. He hadn't escaped unscathed, however, the signs of a light beating on his face.

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