Page 45 of The War Queen's Daughter

They forget that I’m the predator here.

“My goodness, your friend left in a hurry.” Vae flashes me a hard smile as her collective titter in response. Tiny birds cheep while a cat prowls. Her smile doesn’t quite reach her icy blue eyes, which glitter with an undeniable malice.

Correction, they are birds. She’s a rat.

“Are you following me?” I sit back, crossing my legs, looking her up and down. “One would think you’d be pursuing other matters in the Citadel. I understand Chancellor Hallick’s knowledge is…extensive.”

She stiffens. If she didn’t guess that I knew before, it’s very clear to her now.

“We thought we’d venture out,” she says with forced brightness. “Not exactly the Citadel’s gardens, is it?” She gestures vaguely at the bustling market, her lip curling imperceptibly, a subtle gesture of disdain. Why is she even speaking to me? There’s something going on behind those icy eyes, some task she’s compelled to complete. Her false attempt at connection is offensive.

She doesn’t think me that stupid, does she?

On the other hand, has she heard I spent time with Altar last night and is now digging for information? That I will believe.

“I like it here,” I say, sipping my cider.

“One could certainly understand why,” she says with a sly wink. “I see you’ve been… entertaining yourself. A rather intriguing companion, too. Handsome devil. And you were certainly in close communion, from what little I glimpsed.” Her eyes gleam with malicious amusement, like shards of ice catching the light. “Tell me, Remalla, was he the same man I saw you dancing with at the ball? The one you disappeared with?” The question hangs in the air, a thinly veiled accusation, laced with venom.

She’s fishing. Looking for her own blade to use against me, her question the threat she means it to be. Too bad for her that I don’t care who knows who I take to bed with me.

Still, I say nothing. Let her think otherwise. Though I now realize I need to tell Atlas about Zenthris, if only to ensure she doesn’t do it first. It’s only fair, even if I have turned down his marriage proposal.

Her anger rises against my carefully cultivated indifference, her jaw tight. My silence is a wall against her prying, a refusal to give her the satisfaction of a reaction or information. It’s satisfying to know that, unlike her, I have no regrets.

How pathetic it must be to be Vae of Sarn.

Vae’s smile returns, her voice takes on a harder edge, stripping away the last pretense of politeness. It’s a low, controlled tone, layering thinly veiled disdain beneath outwardly polite barbs. “A warrior of few words, as ever. But some things, my dear, speak for themselves. Dallying with unsavory characters in the city, it’s hardly becoming of a prospective royal bride, wouldn’t you agree? Especially when you are here specifically for his pleasure, and his pleasure alone, until he makes his choice.” She pauses, letting that hang in the air like some kind of triumph.

Should I take notice? “Meaning?”

She’s smart and sly, but she’s terrible at hiding her true feelings. “My dear,” she says, leaning in, “surely you know the rules. That any princess who allows another to touch her before the Overprince makes his choice forfeits her position and the option to wed.”

I hadn’t known that. “How interesting,” I say. “A very important point to note. Thank you, Vae.”

She’s holding it over my head. So, I won’t hold it over hers. Thinking she has the counter to my eyewitness account of her interaction with the Chancellor. But it’s more than that. The faint desperation in her eyes… is that a peace offering?

“Do be back in time for dinner,” she says. “We’ll all miss you if you’re late.”

It is. The other princesses gape, hurt by Vae’s request. They seem confused, but continue to follow along, though they are clearly out of their depth.

I smile. The imagined scent of accusation against me? Unproven as it is, is nothing to the shame that clings to her. I manage a casual shrug, a feigned indifference that costs me nothing and might gain me something. It’s worth a try. “I’ll do my best.”

Vae’s eyes narrow slightly. She leans in, closer still, until her sweet perfume is suffocating me and her lips are by my ear. Her voice is a low, chilling purr meant for me alone, a razor’s edge cloaked in silk. “I know you think I tried to have you killed. Trust me, if I wanted you dead, it would happen. Like that.” She snaps her fingers near my other ear. “Don’t ever think such a clumsy, private attempt at drowning you in the baths is all I intend. Oh no. My vengeance will be far more grand, far more satisfying. It will be public. It will be humiliating. It will be slow, delicious, and witnessed by the entire court. A message, not just a common death.”

Not making friends then, good to know.

She has confirmed what I already guessed, though. Her vengeance, if carried out over my literal dead body, will be theatrical, a spectacle. Whoever tried to kill me, it wasn’t Vae.

I nod.

She retreats, smiles. “Very well then,” she says brightly, turning to the other princesses. “Shall we return to the Citadel?”

They saunter off, a spectacle as they go, while I frown over my cider. I believe her. More than likely, that crosses the rest of the princesses off the murder list, too. Vae’s far too controlling to allow any of them their own revenge before she gets hers.

It wasn’t Zenthris. Kell? The hulking drakonkin is certainly strong enough. But could he slip into the princess wing without being noticed and then out again?

Maybe. They’re not the most attentive lot. Whatever the truth, my unknown attacker remains at large, likely lurking in the shadows of the palace. And, I must admit, are equally as dangerous as I am.

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