Page 66 of A Thieving Curse

Mother reached over and rubbed Gareth’s arm, but he jerked away. He didn’t want comfort; he wanted action.

Henry steepled his fingers. “I hesitate to admit this, but…when the Court of Lords crowned me, I promised them that I would secure this treaty, including the princess. My Court desires a union between our kingdoms.” He looked uncomfortable. “But we were promised royalty. A secure connection between our thrones.”

And royal blood not diluted by several generations, like yours.Gareth dug his fingers into the armchair.

Father hesitated. “I…I have a niece. My brother’s daughter. My brother, Duke Trenton Argent, is fourth in line for the Eynlaean throne. Lady Elena Argent is young, recently celebrated her sixteenth birthday. But she’s fair and intelligent, well-educated, of royal stock, and not yet betrothed. I will have to discuss with my brother, of course, to ensure—”

“You can’t seriously be talking about replacing Raelyn already?” Gareth looked from Henry and Tristan to Father. “What about a mourning period if you’re so certain she’s dead?”

Tristan’s voice turned callous. “I’m more concerned about getting my promised queen than mourning a girl I don’t know.”

Gareth was on his feet again before he realized it. “She gave up her entire life to come here and marry your stone heart! She was too good for you, and you don’t even care that she’s missing!”

“I care!” Anger flashed over Tristan’s face. “But some of us understand that the treaty and the future are more important. I’m sorry for your loss, but I need a wife. I can’t produce heirs by crying over a dead princess.”

“You—” Gareth launched at Tristan. His fist slammed into the crown prince’s cheek, and Tristan stumbled into the side of Henry’s throne. All Gareth’s rage and heartbreak exploded out of him. “How dare you!”

He threw another punch at Tristan’s jaw. Father seized his shoulders and pulled him back, but he pushed Father away and went after Tristan again. “This is your fault! She’d be safely in Eynlae if it wasn’t for you!”

Tristan blocked his next punch and shoved Gareth back. “Me? I didn’t—”

“She’s missing because you want a wife with royal blood to mother your children, you infernal—ugh!” He tackled Tristan to the floor, but before he could throw another punch, two sets of hands pulled him up.

“Guards!” Henry shouted. “Guards!”

Gareth jerked free of Henry’s and Father’s grip as three armed guards burst into the room.

“This man attacked the crown prince,” Henry snarled, pointing at him. “Arrest him.”

Gareth froze. Mother gasped.

“I beg your pardon?” Father said.

The guards seized Gareth and dragged him toward the door. Gareth thrashed against their grip, panic mingling with his anger.

Mother shoved out of her chair with a horrified gasp. “Gareth!”

“Release him!” Father bellowed. The guards stopped walking but held him more firmly.

“He attacked my heir!” Henry crossed his arms, steel in his eyes. “You come to me days late, without the promised bride, with no real plan for fulfilling the treaty, and your son attacks my heir in cold blood? Do you want war?”

Gareth stilled and his hands went cold. Tristan got to his feet and wiped his mouth, smearing red on the back of his hand.What was I thinking?

Father stood stiff, his back rigid. “Of course not. He’s a boy, mad with grief over the loss of his sister. We are willing to treat with you. My niece—”

“And will she die mysteriously in the mountains, too?” Henry asked with a sneer, his voice dripping sarcasm.

Father’s hands curled into fists. “You dare insinuate we are lying? Respectfully, we are mourning. Do not mock my sorrow. I don’t want war. Let us discuss—”

“The treaty was clear about your obligation.” Henry sat on his throne and fixed Father with an imperious stare that made Gareth’s blood boil. “Bring me this niece, make good on your commitment to providing my son a royal Eynlaean queen. In the meantime, your son can cool off in my dungeons, where he can be assurance that you will bring me my son’s bride.” He jutted his chin toward the door.

The guards tugged Gareth back, and Gareth’s anger evaporated into terror. He grabbed for the doorframe, bracing his feet against the wood floor. “Father!”

Father reddened. “King Henry—”

“Were he other than your son, he would be beheaded for striking the crown prince,” Henry interrupted. Gareth’s heart seized. “Shall I order that instead?”

“Doyouwant war?” Father demanded.

---