Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Where is she?”
“Oh, I’ve kept her close.” Henri’s amusement was obvious in the sardonic twist of his lips. “Some of you have gotten quite close to her.”
Tyrell’s jaw cracked. “Mia.”
Peter shot his brother a look.
“Yes,” Henri confirmed.
“Who else knew about this?” Peter demanded.
Henri threw a sharp look at his heir, who instantly tempered his expression. “No one. I only told your mother last night. No one else needed to know the truth, until now.”
“Why now?” Grayson asked. His voice was heavy and rough from disuse.
Every eye went to him, but he didn’t care. He had eyes only for Henri.
The king’s eyes lit with perverse pleasure. “Because it’s finally time for her to be useful. And I must say, she will do an even better job than I dared imagine.”
Grayson’s fingers dug deeper into his arms.
“What are you planning to do with her?” Tyrell asked.
“She will serve multiple purposes in the coming war,” Henri said. “And I’ll use her any way I see fit. But the endgame has always been clear. At the conclusion of the war, after Mortise has been conquered and their newly crowned king is dead, Meerah will be given to either Tyrell or Grayson—whichever of you wins the Mortisian crown.”
Grayson’s pulse thundered in his ears. He could feel the mask on his face crack.
No.
That was the only word in his head, and it was absolute.
Tyrell viewed him from across the table.
Grayson’s hackles rose and his eyes narrowed.Over my rotting corpse.
He didn’t need to express the sentiment verbally—Tyrell’s jaw firmed.
“Why?” Carter asked. “Wouldn’t she serve more of a purpose if you used her to break Mortise? Send her piece by piece to her brother until he surrenders the country without a fight.”
A growl vibrated in Grayson’s throat before he could think to swallow it back. Every eye snapped to him; Tyrell’s were black.
Fates, Grayson needed to keep his mask in place. Betraying emotion in front of his father and brothers would only bring him—and Mia—more trouble.
Henri chuckled softly. “I’ve considered such a thing, Carter. When I first got her, I nearly did just that. I knew Saernon would buckle easily. It would only take her smallest finger, and he would have bowed before me. But his people would not have done so; the Mortisian council wouldn’t have allowed it. In the end, I would have only gained Saernon’s head. So, no. The girl is more useful alive and in one piece.” He eyed Grayson, all amusement gone as warning took over his expression. “For now, at least.”
Peter’s calculated gaze was steady. “By putting her on the throne, you’re giving the Mortisians a Mortisian queen.”
Henri tipped his head. “Exactly. They’ll be less inclined to rebel. Especially because their queen was once a princess they thought was lost forever, but was saved by my mercy.” His smile grew as he studied Tyrell, then Grayson. “Whichever of you serves me best will win a crown, a kingdom, and a wife. So serve me well.”
It wasn’t long before Henri dismissed them to meet privately with the commanders they would each serve with, while he went to inspect the forces.
Grayson was currently awaiting the arrival of Commander Zaden in an otherwise empty office. The features of the room were plain, befitting a military barracks. There was an uncluttered desk, some wooden chairs, and a locked cupboard against one wall. The starkness of the room was in complete contrast to the chaos in Grayson’s head.
It had been horrible enough that his family knew about Mia. That Tyrell hadparadedher in front of them. But now they knew who she really was. The speculative, greedy light in Peter’s eyes as they’d filed from the room made Grayson’s hollow stomach churn.
We’re leaving. It’s going to be all right, because we’re leaving tomorrow.
None of his brothers would have a chance to touch her.