Page 2 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

The King of Maridrina.

Lara’s father.

His enemy.

Aren lunged across the table, not caring that he was unarmed or that his wrists were bound. Knowing only that he needed to hurt this man who had destroyed everything he held dear.

His fingers inches from their mark, Aren found himself snapped back against his chair, a chain belted to his waist holding him in place like a dog to a post.

“Now, now. Let’s not be uncivilized.”

“Fuck. You.”

The Maridrinian king’s upper lip curled with disdain, as though Aren had barked rather than spoken. “You are as your kingdom was, Your Majesty. Feral.”

Was.

The sneer turned into a smile. “Yes, Your Majesty.Was.For I’m afraid Ithicana is no longer, and your title now a courtesy you will have to do without.” He leaned back in his chair. “What shall we call you? Master Kertell? Or perhaps, given we are family of sorts, a certain amount of familiarity is appropriate,Aren.”

“I don’t give a shit what you call me,Silas.As to your other point, the bridge is not Ithicana.Iam not Ithicana. My—”

“—people are Ithicana,” Silas finished, his gaze gleaming with amusement. “Pretty words, boy. And perhaps there is truth to them. Ithicana stands . . . for as long as Eranahl does.”

Aren’s stomach twisted, the name of his city on his enemy’s lips both unfamiliar and unwelcome.

“Such a secret to keep.” King Silas Veliant shook his head. “Yet a secret no longer.”

“If you mean to use me to negotiate Eranahl’s surrender, you’re wasting your time.”

“I don’t waste my time. And I don’t negotiate.” Silas rubbed his chin. “Nearly all your people gathered on one island, cut off from supplies and with no hope of salvation. How long will they last? How long until Eranahl is not a fortress, but a tomb? No, Aren, I don’t needyouto see the destruction of Ithicana through to completion.”

It wouldn’t come to that. Whoever was in command of Eranahl would begin smuggling civilians out of Ithicana under the cover of the storms. North and south. Scattered to the winds.

But alive.

And as long as they were alive . . . “If I’m so useless, why am I here?”

Silas steepled his fingers together, silent. Aren’s heart sped, thundering against his chest, each beat more violent than the last.

“Where is Lara?”

An unexpected question, given that Aren had expected her to behere.Back in Maridrina. Back at her father’s side. That she wasn’t . . . That her father didn’t know where she was . . .

I love you.

Aren shook his head sharply, a bead of sweat running down his cheek. She’d stabbed him in the back, lied to him from the beginning.Nothingshe’d said mattered now. “I have no idea.”

“Is she alive?”

Unease prickled across his skin, Lara’s voice echoing through his thoughts:I thought I’d destroyed all the copies. This is . . . this is a mistake. The tears in her eyes had glinted like jewels.“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Did you let her go? Or did she escape?”

Please don’t do this. I can fight. I can help you. I can—

“Allowing a traitor to go free seems an ill-advised choice.” Yet it had been the one he’d made. Why? Why hadn’t he killed her when he’d had the chance?

The other man’s head cocked. Then he reached into the pocket of his gleaming white coat and extracted a ragged and stained piece of paper, the gilt long worn off its edges. “This was found on your person when you were searched. Such an interesting document.”

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