Page 68 of Pretense

“You and my brother appear to be getting close again.” King Averett was not looking at her as they walked along the wall, avoiding the clusters of people.

A day ago, she would have been more uncomfortable with that question, knowing their relationship was a mere pretense.

It was still fake for Edmund, but no longer for her. Perhaps not for him much longer either.

“Yes, we are.” Jalissa’s shoulders eased at the way the words felt right deep in her chest.

“You are aware of what he was.” It was more a question than a statement, and King Averett still was not looking at her.

“I know he was”—Jalissa glanced around and lowered her voice—“a spy. In Tarenhiel. He has not shared details, of course.”

She was not sure she ever wanted details. It was easier not knowing exactly what Edmund had done.

In the end, their kingdoms had not gone to war with each other, thanks to Elspetha and Farrendel. Whatever spying Edmund had done, it no longer mattered. Their kingdoms had shared so many of their secrets with each other when they had been allies during the war against Kostaria, and that had likely revealed more than Edmund’s spying ever had.

“Good. I would not wish for that to stand between you.” King Averett glanced down to her, studying her for a moment in an overprotective, brotherly manner much like Weylind. No wonder her brother and King Averett got along so well. “He has been pretty morose the past few months. He made mistakes in Kostaria that were unlike him.”

Jalissa had wondered if her rejection had played a role in his capture in Kostaria. She, too, had thought it seemed unlike him.

She could hear the gentle warning in King Averett’s voice. He was worried about her breaking his brother’s heart again.

Perhaps she would have been offended, but King Averett had reason to worry, after what had happened between her and Edmund months ago. Besides, her family had given Elspetha this same speech when she had first married Farrendel. It was only fair that Jalissa was given the same warning.

“I understand.” Jalissa met King Averett’s gaze without flinching. “It has been a lonely few months for me as well. But the past week has made me realize what is important and what is not.”

King Averett nodded, sobering as well. “Something we have all realized.”

Very true. They had been so worried about the public image of both royal families, and yet, in the end, that mattered very little. They could weather a scandal, as long as they had each other.

What mattered were their families. They had come so close to losing Elspetha and Farrendel, and they had yet to catch the assassin or find out why someone would try to kill them.

Jalissa glanced toward the door as they joined Queen Paige and the group of elven and human nobles with whom she was conversing. Would this raid provide answers? And where had that head editor gone?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Edmund sipped at the glass of elven juice as he watched the elven warriors mingle. Across the room, Essie was butchering elvish as she talked with one of the warriors wounded during the wars. Farrendel remained at her side, giving her a warm, indulgent smile.

To everyone looking on, Edmund looked like one of the elven warriors, and he leaned on a cane and limped due to the stick he had taped to his leg underneath his trousers so that the knee no longer bent.

It was so tempting to walk across the room and talk to Essie. She had been here in Estyra for months now, and from all appearances, she and her new husband were getting along well. Yet it would be reassuring if he could talk to his sister.

But that was one unbreakable rule of spying. Never blow your cover by approaching someone you know.

Edmund paced in the entry hall as he waited for the intelligence officer to return with news on the raid.

Julien strode toward him, his mouth etched into a grim line. “Any news?”

“Not yet. Has the editor been located?” Edmund halted in his pacing to face Julien.

Julien shook his head, worry lines etching around his eyes. “No. And the guards stationed around the ropes don’t recall him leaving.”

A cold iciness spread through Edmund. That wasn’t good. It would have been bad enough if the head editor had left, properly escorted out of the palace by the guards. But he had disappeared with the skill of a spy.

“Bertie? Finn?” Edmund took a step in the direction of the family wing, heart beating harder. What if the head editor was the assassin? Would he target Edmund’s nephews?

“Additional guards have already been sent to secure the room.” Julien rested a hand on the slim cavalry sword he had taken to carrying since starting his sword practices with Farrendel and his guards. “More guards are being brought in to secure the ballroom.”

“Good.” Edmund resisted the urge to reach for one of the knives he had hidden under his tail coat or the derringer up his sleeve. “We need to search the palace and locate him immediately.”

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