Page 32 of A War of Crowns

But clearly, she was wrong.

She’d never asked to be born a woman. She’d never asked to be nothing more than a mere pawn, suitable to be used as nothing more than a bargaining chip in a marriage alliance with Drakmor.

But she had.

And when she'd begged Tiberius to save her from that fate, he had refused. The Beaumonts had more money than they knew what to do with. She and Tiberius could have fled west to the city-states or east to Lothmeer, far beyond her father’s ire and reach, and lived out comfortable lives, even in exile.

Together.

But that wouldn’t have been profitable, now would it?

Seraphina shook her head and took a step backward from him—Tiberius Beaumont, the man she had loved when they were young and stupid and could give themselves over to whimsical fancies. But she had squashed that love long ago. She had set it aside.

Because he had told her to.

Lifting her chin, Seraphina asked, “What happened to, ‘There can only be friendship between us?'”

Tiberius’s lips thinned. “That was a great many years ago,Sera—”

“What happened to, ‘I must marry a woman who will raise my family’s standing, not darken our reputation with thescandalof elopement?'”

Tiberius’s hand suddenly shot out to grasp her shoulder. He held her in place, halting her retreat. “What would you have had me do, Sera? We were children. Your father would have had me executed. Orworse.He would have stripped my family of their lands and title. Do you have any idea how hard my father worked to raise us to this point? From mere merchants to nobility?”

His grip on her tightened when he hissed, “Do you haveanyidea what it would have meant to him if I had lost it all?”

Seraphina trembled at the baron’s touch. No man ever touched her these days—aside from her godfather’s rare embrace or Father Perero’s blessings. She was far above such things now. She was forbidden.

And yet Tiberius Beaumont grabbed her as if he had any right to do so.

She hated the way a small part of her heart trilled with a desire to know what it would feel like to be properly wrapped up within his arms. But the fear of being discovered swiftly smothered that trill. The gossip would be wretched.

Already, the world sang about the Queen Who Dodged the Ring and the handsome peacock who had seduced her into scorning the King of Drakmor.

It wasn’t true. It wasn’t the least bit true. She had severed her longstanding engagement for her own sake and no one else’s.

But the scandal of it all was far too salacious for anyone outside her inner circle to consider there might be another side to the story.

“Release me, my lord,” Seraphina softly commanded, “and we…we will forget this moment ever happened. You know you are one of my oldest friends, Tiberius. And I do not wish to jeopardize that now, not when I need my friends the most.”

But Tiberius didn’t listen.

“We werechildren, Sera,” he continued to argue with her instead. “Beholden to the will of our parents. But now we’re grown. Now we’re free to do as our own wills dictate.” The baron scowled. “If you won’t consider me for your own sake, then consider me for the sake of Elmoria. Think of how many mercenaries my gold could hire. Think of how many more ships we could build. You wouldn’t even need Drakmor. You could save Mysai without having to prostrate yourself before the boy-king and beg for his aid.”

Lord Tiberius’s words were, in equal measure, both a siren’s song and a wounding blade. He was right. By the Lord, he was right.

And the fact that he was left a bitter taste on her tongue.

She needed aid from their closest ally, Drakmor, or she needed more gold, whether that be a loan from a banker lord of the city-states or by forging an alliance with House Beaumont itself.

One would sink her country into debt and leave them beholden to a foreign power. The other would anger every one of the Great Houses of Elmoria and thin her list of allies even further.

It was an impossible decision.

Drakmor was still her safest option.

But before she could tell him just that, Seraphina saw movement flash out of the corner of her eye—a blur of iridescent scales and flickering wings—as Alyx suddenly struck out at Lord Tiberius and bit him. The usuru’s fangs sank into the meat of the man’s hand between his thumb and forefinger.

Tiberius’s abrupt scream echoed through the otherwise quiet library.

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