Page 21 of The War Queen's Daughter

I make note of the exit for later use, just in case, wondering if I really will see the gorgeous rogue again. They disappear into the night, swallowed by the labyrinthine city. I stand at the open window, the cool night air caressing my hot face, looking out at the vast, silent sprawl of Winderose. A deep sigh escapes my lips. Oh, how I would have loved to go with them. Far from this palace, this humiliation, this gilded cage. Just for a moment, I taste freedom.

At least I’ll have subject matter to linger over when I make it back to my bed.

Chapter 12

I’m still caught in the exhilarating afterglow of that dangerous encounter as I retreat back the way I came, the thrill of the chase, the quick decision, the flash of something undefinable with the stunning Zenthris lingering, and I let it. It’s a stark contrast to the stifling politics I’ve become entangled in, and for a brief moment, it allows me to forget everything but this adventure.

Even distracted by the stranger’s sparking touch, it’s simple to evade notice, laughably so, and now I have a new game to play that suits me far better than any I might learn here. This will not be my last nighttime excursion through the Citadel.

I’m just arriving back at my quarters, a visit to Gorgon accomplished, my hand reaching for the ornate handle of my door, when I hear footfalls and turn just as the door next to mine opens. Vae arches one perfect eyebrow at me as she hugs her silk gown around her, curls piled for sleep that I’ve interrupted.

“It’s almost dawn,” she says, her silken voice cutting through the quiet of the corridor. “And where have you been all night, Princess Remalla?”

At least she’s no longer hiding her animosity, her beautiful face is neither soft nor kind. Her icy blue eyes, once so full of feigned warmth, are now hard, glittering with malice. She’s a warrior of another kind, I realize, as practiced at her kind of battle as I am in mine, and though I’m still furious at myself for falling for her deceit, I have to admit she won fair and square.

Never again, however.

“Why you care,” I say, “means nothing to me.”

A wicked smile plays on her lips, and the sweet scent of lavender from her gown now feels like a venomous cloud as she glides toward me, poison in her eyes.

“I don’t care,Remalla,” she purrs, taking a step closer. Her voice is low, laced with a cutting wit that slices through the air. “Especially now that we know where we stand. Except, of course, to ensure that you never, ever rise to the position you seem to think you’ve come here to take.” She lowers her chin, vicious stare a blade she wields as sharp as my sword and meant to cut deep. “I’ve dedicated myself, you see, to the cause.”

“And what cause is that?” I need to take her seriously, as seriously as any soldier.

“The downfall of Heald, of course,” she says, stopping in front of me. Bold and fearless, perhaps admirable in her conviction. “The utter, complete, and absolute erasure of your kind from this overkingdom. Forever.” She flicks her fingers at me, soft and tinkling laugh wafting through the hall. “When I’m done with you and your people, no one will ever even remember that the sliver of nothing that is your pathetic kingdom existed.”

She means what she says, though I struggle with the intent despite myself. Not in her conviction, but to believe that she has that power at her disposal. But her hatred is hot and vicious, and I have to trust that whatever she has planned, she made a mistake warning me ahead of time.

“Acknowledged,” I tell her as I would any opposing leader across the parley table. “Now, if you’re done threatening me?”

Vae doesn’t take the hint, stepping even closer, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper that only I can hear. “You really are a naive little savage, aren’t you? To think you could waltz into this court without consequences.” Does she know she’s overplaying her venom? She really needs to walk away now,with her message delivered. But she can’t seem to do so. How long has she been planning this? There’s more to her hate than jealousy, clearly. Some discreet inquiries might serve to answer the source of her rage against my people, if it matters.

It matters to her. Learning the secrets of an enemy can grant an edge so now, it matters to me, too.

“I will be watching you,” she says. “Every clumsy step. Every warrior’s grunt. Every misplaced glance. And I will use all of it against you.”

I nod. She hasn’t earned more.

Her icy blue eyes bore into mine, and the malice in them unmistakable, palpable. “And when I marry the Overprince—because Iwillmarry him, mark me, I will personally oversee the destruction of Heald. Of your precious queen, your filthy army. I will give the order that beheads Jhanette, and I will make you watch before I string you up to die a slow and painful end on the wall of this Citadel.”

“Careful,” I say. “That much hate will devour you.” It’s meant to wind her up, that warning, and succeeds.

She’s shaking now, venom pouring from her. “Your people will be enslaved, their spirit broken, their lands absorbed into Protoris, forever. Heald will be nothing, not even a footnote in history.” She tilts her head. “It’s happened before. We can erase you for good, this time. Like the rest of it.”

She’s taunting me about my country’s poor treatment by the rest of the kingdoms, but what does the rest of that mean? “So you’ve said.” I shrug. “Are we done?”

Vae stiffens, her tiny face twisting before she pulls herself together. She must know she’s lost control in front of me and regrets it, perhaps. Then again, her triumphant smile says otherwise, even if she’s just lying to herself. She turns, her silk gown rustling like a serpent’s scales, and sweeps away down the corridor, back to her own chambers. It’s not surprising that twoof the other princesses watch through slivers and quickly close their doors when I salute their spying.

I hold my ground until Vae disappears. I will not be seen to retreat.

Which gives a watcher a moment to speak, though I barely pivot to hear the words of the daughter of the rich farmlands of Nethal, our most recent target, who pipes up from her doorway across the hall.

No need to meet her flat gray eyes, to remind myself of her hair the color of straw, or the way her long jaw and arching nose remind me of Gorgon. Her malice is no match for Vae’s and her simpering words carry little of a threat.

And yet, I listen because even this is important.

“You have no friends in the capital, bitch of Heald,” she says, her voice low, solemn, like a tolling bell. “None. Everyone here hates you. Hates your mother. For what she’s done. For the land she’s stolen. For the citizens of our countries whom she’s murdered. The blood she’s spilled.” I do turn then, slowly, facing her down. Her gaze wavers as I do, though she doesn’t stop, filled with a deep, if now anxious, resentment. “Go back to your filthy animal of a queen before you learn to regret it.”

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