Page 21 of A Dagger in the Ivy

I return his nod, then swivel to follow Indira, with Nadya by my side.

Just as we reach the doorway, a man steps in my way, stopping me in my tracks. Stormy-grey eyes bore into mine, the intensity almost bringing me to gasp. He has thick, wavy, black hair that falls just above his collar, framing his tan, chiseled, angular face.

“Ah, Dante,” the king calls. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

Dante’s glare feels like a blade to my throat. It remains on me for a few seconds as he shifts to move around me. I can feel the weight of his disdain pressing down on me, making my skin prickle with unease. It’s as if he’s stripping away every layer of my defenses, exposing my vulnerabilities.

Who is this man? And why does he stare at me like he wants to kill me?

CHapter

Ten

Indiraleads us up the stairs and down a hall. I try to memorize the turns she makes as she leads us to our rooms, but I can’t stop thinking about whoever that Dante was and how unsettled he made me feel.

We stop in front of a large door where a uniformed guard stands. His hair is cropped short and his scruff-covered jaw is almost a perfect square. He’s not as big as Mylo, but he does have a good amount of muscle on him.

Indira turns to me and gestures to the man. “This is Sir Holden Hale. He is your Royal Ward, assigned to protect you.”

I give the guard a sheepish smile and then address Indira. “Is that absolutely necessary? I’m the commander of my country’s regiment. I know how to protect myself.”

Indira raises a dismissive hand. “He’s been appointed by the king, so I’m afraid you’ll have to speak with him about it.”

My gaze goes back to Sir Holden. “No offense.”

He keeps a straight face. “None taken, Your Highness.”

“Here we are, then.” Indira opens the large door and steps aside. I notice that she does not smile, and I wonder if it’s because of me, or if it’sjust in her nature.

As I step into the luxurious chamber, I’m left momentarily speechless. Sunlight streams through the towering windows, casting a warm glow upon the room’s sumptuous furnishings. The walls are adorned with rich tapestries, their intricate designs depicting scenes of ancient battles and noble triumphs. Shades of deep crimson and gold dominate the color scheme, lending an air of regal splendor to the space.

My gaze is drawn to the exquisitely carved furniture that fills the room—a magnificent four-poster bed draped in swaths of magnificent silk, its intricately wrought frame a testament to the craftsmanship of the castle’s artisans. A plush, velvet chaise lounge beckons invitingly from a corner, its cushions plump and inviting. A polished mahogany desk stands against one wall, its surface littered with quills, ink pots, and scrolls.

Everywhere I look, there are signs of luxury and refinement—the softness of the plush rugs beneath my feet, the delicate porcelain vases filled with fresh blooms that adorn every surface, the flickering light of the crystal chandelier that hangs from the ceiling like a radiant jewel. It is a world of elegance and sophistication, a stark contrast to the simplicity of the barracks and tents I have called home for so long. I can’t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder wash over me. This room, this palace, is a world unto itself—a world of privilege and power, of secrets and intrigue. And now, it is my world too—a world I must navigate with grace and poise if I am to succeed in my new role as future queen.

“Can you believe this?” Nadya’s mouth hangs open as she scurries around the room, touching everything in sight.

“I hardly can.”

Indira moves past me and goes to tend to something on the side of the room. I realize it is one of my trunks she has opened. She begins unpacking, moving items of clothing to a beautiful chest of drawers. Her familiarity with the place makes me realize she could serve as a great source of information.

“Indira, who was that man who came into the great hall as we left?” I ask, unable to hide my curiosity.

“You mean Dante? He’s the prince’s half-brother.”

Half-brother? “Since when does he have a half-brother?”

“Dante came to the palace several years ago,” Indira explains.

“Oh.” That explains why I never met him. “So he’s a prince?”

Indira scoffs, but she immediately sobers and clears her throat. I think she forgot to whom she was speaking. “No, he’s not a prince. He’s a bastard. Mothered by another woman. He has no claim to the throne.”

This piece of information has caught Nadya’s interest. “That’s rather scandalous. Why is he here? Does he live here?”

Indira huffs, her mouth pulled down into a frown. “It’s not a scandal according to the king. Kings do as kings want. And Dante lives where he pleases. He has a room here, but he comes and goes on a whim. He has a manor, given to him by his father, out by Lake Peony, to which he disappears when he’s had enough of court life. He is fond of his brother and no one else, so unless you’re Prince Torbin, it’s best to stay out of Dante’s way.”

That might explain the look he gave me, but something tells me there’s more to it than that.

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