Page 36 of The War Queen's Daughter

I almost miss that the atmosphere in the dining room, while thick with the scent of roasted meats and fresh bread, carries a sharp tang of tension. As I take my seat, I notice the usual hushed whispers, the darting glances, the sudden, almost palpable excitement among the princesses carries a note of fear with it.

Then, I hear one of them tell the other in a harsh mutter meant to reach me, no doubt. “That’s what I heard. Queen Jhanette is on her way to court and should be here in a matter of days.”

I almost smile, though without pleasure. Mother received my message and took it upon herself to give this matter personalattention. Since I’ve failed to fulfill my reason for being here in the first place, any concern I have that I’ll be assassinated by rivals or someone in court now gives way to the possibility the queen will take care of things for those who want me dead.

And yet, I can’t muster any concern. Perhaps her arrival will stir the shift that is required to finally turn these tired and immobile tides.

“Is it true?” Vae confronts me with her face in a tight mask. “Is your mother coming here?”

“To celebrate my engagement, I suppose,” I say with a false, light air as I rise and shrug before leaving the dining room, food uneaten.

My spiteful stirring of their princess pot does nothing for the fact that I’ve lost my appetite.

I retreat to the baths again. I need to think and though perhaps exercise is a better choice, I’m craving a long soak in hot water and the steaming heat that accompanies it.

I select a scoop of scented salt to bring with me in the small, rough pouch, soaking it and activating the ingredients, inhaling the spicy aroma as I drift all the way to the back of the pool, lost in the steam.

She’ll be furious I’ve failed. There are no excuses I can offer. Because if I’m going to be honest, my attempts to find Altar have been half-hearted at best. My pride has to give way. I want him to come to me, I accept, and sigh over it. Foolish, wasteful. I’ve blamed him for evading me.

If I truly wanted him, I know I could take him and make him cave to me. Which is what my mother will demand when she arrives.

It’s difficult to focus, and I’m dunking myself fully beneath the water as amber eyes wink at me in my mind. Zenthris has created a unique problem in the midst of my orders that I don’t know how to handle. Except I do, again, if I’m honest. Whateverreaction I’ve had to him—whatever this kinspark is he speaks of—it’s just lust, pure and simple. I’ve been devoured by that before. I’ve fallen headfirst into craving and need in the past.

It’s nothing I can’t deal with.

And yet, it feels different, and I’m trying not to lie to myself.

I stand and emerge from the water, exhaling the held breath that sustained me before sinking to my neck again, scowling as I blink moisture from my eyes. I’ve allowed this place to dull me, to numb me. Here I accused Amber of falling victim. She’d had two decades to do so. It took me mere weeks.

The heat feels good, easing the tension in my muscles, and I fall back, allowing myself to float. I close my eyes, trying to clear my head, the gentle lapping of the water a soft lullaby. I’ve lost track of my priorities. Time to change that. Either I’m the princess heir of Heald or I’m not. If not, I need to go, now. Before Mother arrives.

If so…it’s time to stop making excuses and challenge Altar with my offer.

The water shivers. It’s barely a disturbance, hardly of note. But my instincts won’t ignore it, and I’m already tense when my eyes fly open and I try to stand.

Even as strong hands seize me from behind. They wrap around my throat, pushing my head down, forcing my face beneath the water.

Bubbles burst around me, the water frothing as I fight. Panic wins for far too long, just a heartbeat, but unacceptable. My feet try to find the bottom, but my attacker sweeps them out from under me, and I’m deeper than before, my shoulder blades hitting the bottom hard, breath forced from my lungs.

If I don’t rise in the next few seconds, I’ll drown. Or suffocate from the tight grasp of those hands around my throat.

There’s no time to think, only to act. I’ve been trained to fight. Unless giving in is the only way to win. My attacker feelsme sag but doesn’t release me. It’s agony to hold still, to wait out the grip on my neck. I’m dying, my chest imploding, lungs fluttering for a deep inhale.

I’m at the limit. I miscalculated. I need to fight. I can’t just give in and die.

But the moment I can’t hold out any longer, gathering myself for a final effort I know will fail, the hands relax.

Just enough. For two things.

The first allows me to escape. I jerk free and burst from the water and inhale a giant gasp, lunging for my attacker in the clinging steam. But I’m stumbling, weakened, choking, and fighting for another breath past the inhaled particles I draw in with the precious first taste of air.

It’s so hard to move, my body heavy as I thrash my way forward, muscles aching and weak from air starvation, the heavy pool pulling at me. When I finally throw myself over the lip of the steam bath, someone is running out the door, the thud of it shutting behind them.

Gone, vanished. But not without consequence.

I choke, not just on the weight of water, but on the sight of Bele, her fragile neck twisted at an odd, crisp angle at odds with her small body’s position, her bulging eyes empty as she stares into nothing at all.

The sight of her dead body enrages me like nothing has in a very long time, and I’m pushing past my infirmity, a new surge of energy fueling me. I’m running, naked and casting water from my flesh, down the hallway, following wet footprints that lead into the princess garden.

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