Page 122 of The Promised Prince
“I told you, I didn’t do anything!” Pryer fought back.
“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t continued with the assassination!” Trev’s hands moved from Pryer’s shirt collar to his neck, his fingers wrapping around his skin.
“I swear!” Pryer coughed between strangled breaths.
Drake’s strong hands pulled Trev away, separating him from Pryer and his neck. He gasped for air, leaning over, coughing.
“There’s no one else who could have done it. Seran’s blood is on your hands.”
“Maxwell,” Pryer said between coughs.
“What?”
“Maxwell and Joniss Doman. I told them.” Pryer straightened his body, leaning against the wall for support. “I told them that King Carver still wanted the assassination. Maxwell asked if he would go through with it without the high ruler’s approval, and I said that Carver wanted to, but had changed his mind. Joniss asked how he would have carried it out. I told Joniss about the plan. I shouldn’t have, but at the time, it seemed harmless because we had called the whole thing off.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Drake asked.
“When Adler first arrived, accusing us, I was caught off guard and angry. I focused in on the men stationed at the inn, thinking that they somehow hadn’t gotten the message to stop the plans. The king sent me immediately to find them. It wasn’t until I was on the road that I remembered my conversation with the Domans.”
Trev shook his head. “Why didn’t you say something as soon as you returned this morning?”
“I tried.” Pryer looked at him with desperate eyes. “Right before the wedding, I started to tell your father, but Gaines came in saying the ceremony was about to start. There wasn’t enough time to have the conversation.”
Trev dropped his head. He’d had suspicions about Joniss and Maxwell but hadn’t given it enough thought. Everything happening with the wedding had clouded his mind.
“Think about it,” Pryer said. “The entire assassination plan was Maxwell’s idea. He wanted to frame you and the king all along.”
Drake pointed his finger at the commander. “If you’re lying about the Domans, I will personally kill you.”
“I’m not. Besides the men who were going to carry out the assassination, Maxwell and Joniss Doman are the only other people who knew the details of the plan.”
Drake glanced at Trev. “Do you think the Domans sent their own men to kill King Adler, hoping to pin it on you and your father?”
“I don’t know,” Trev admitted. “But I’m going to find out.”
52
Renna
Preetis stepped around the front of the house as soon as the transporter pulled up in front of the farmhouse. His sleeves were rolled up, and dirt was on his hands and pants. His smile widened when Renna stepped out of the vehicle.
“Come here! Let me get you dirty with a hug.” His arms stretched out, beckoning her to him. Renna gladly fell into him, savoring the familiarity of it all. “That fancy wedding over already?”
The ache in her heart flickered alive again—Preetis’s words giving it a new breath of life. “Yes.” She pulled apart from him. “They were married yesterday at noon.”
“Yesterday? How in the jimmy-dickens did you get here so fast?”
Renna busied herself with her bags, noticing Mangum’s watchful eye. “We actually left before the wedding.”
“Before the wedding?” Preetis rubbed at the stubble on his chin but didn’t say anything more. Preetis always knew when to leave a subject alone. Renna liked that about him.
“When’s the queen coming?”
“I’m not sure.” She carried a bag into the house, Mangum trailing not far behind.
“Is that my girl?” Nellie came running from the kitchen, bumping into the sides of furniture on her way. Her body slammed into Renna’s in a tight hug. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back to us.” She let go of Renna as suddenly as she had grabbed her. “Let me get you some food, child. You too, Mr. Mangum.”
They shuffled into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table.
