Page 32 of Princess of Thorns and Ruin

Master of War

ALEC

The secluded royal gardens separate the princess’ apartments from the king and queen’s wings. It is one of the most secure areas in the kingdom, and allows the royal family—and highest-ranking members of government—safety and privacy at all hours of the day.

People like me don’t trust open spaces as much as the comfort provided by a well-guarded building, but this is the exception. Soldiers posted at the corners of the estate prevent surveillance drones—or anything of the sort—from preying on the royal family.

It’s a most private space, reserved for a handful of people, and my spine stiffens when I spot my brother, Garret, sitting on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the courtyard with Sabina, the queen consort’s first-blood.

“Hey, Alec.” He waves from his seat causally, as though he belongs in this elitist inner sanctum.

His rise in the ranks might entitle him to hang out here, but my brother detests flowers and plants, which makes me doubt his motives. I haven’t seen him since my return, and his new midnight-blue uniform possesses one too many embroideries. When Jude texted me that Garrett now commanded our army, I didn’t totally believe it.

He probably has a room on the same floor as the prime minister, but no uniform or title could ever convince me that he’s able to put someone else’s interest ahead of his own.

Sabina stops writing on her clipboard and licks her lips as the princess and I draw near, her butt sliding away from Garrett a few inches along the rim of the fountain. I wonder what leading an army has to do with her, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Garrett flirts with all the girls.

I guess we have that one flaw in common.

Arielle slows down, one hand clenched around the skirt of her dress. “Mr. Beaumont. Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

As if on cue, the bastard walks over to us and kisses the back of her hand as he bows. “Garrett Beaumont, your majesty. I hope my little brother didn’t give you too many reasons to hate our family. I know first-hand how difficult he can be.”

The princess fucking laughs, her eyes beaming. “I hear you’ve been made Master of War. Congratulations, Sir Beaumont.”

He gives her a quick nod, his voice slick as honey. “It’s an honor to serve your family, your highness.”

“Are our soldiers holding strong?”

Garrett flashes his signature wolfish grin. “We’ll make the Zhaos spit out bile.”

“It was nice to meet you, Sir Beaumont. Keep up the good work.”

My brother brings an arm to his chest to salute her, and she prances away from us. I move to follow, but he puts himself in my way.

“She’s got more spirit than Victor,” he says with a wistful smile.

I follow the princess’ movements with my eyes, annoyed by the intrusion. We might be in the most secure area of the castle, but that’s no reason to botch my duties. “I’ve got to go.”

“Wait.” He braces his hand on my shoulder to stop me from leaving. “This assignment is a slap in the face, but don’t let the opportunity go to waste. You have unparalleled access to the princess. Stop alienating her and build a relationship.”

“How do you know if I’m alienating her?”

“Because I know you, Alec.”

The sharp glint in his eyes gives me pause. Of the three of us, Garrett has always had the best grasp on politics. Shrewd diplomacy, information manipulation, and knowing exactly where your enemy is vulnerable are amongst his best—and worse—qualities.

I lick my lips. “Are you saying I should spy on the princess? Is that why you’re having a midnight chat with the queen consort’s first-blood?”

He shrugs. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Having the princess on your side is just smart.”

“I’ve got to go, sir.” I scoff out the last part, telegraphing exactly how empty his new title actually is.

Garrett grows a shade whiter, the gentle carefreeness erased from his face, but he lets me go.

He might be allowed to lurk in the royal gardens, but he’ll always be held apart. We’re not blue-blooded enough for the Lords to really let us into their fancy little circle, and if my brother has forgotten that, he’ll soon be reminded. We’re only soldiers to them, and soldiers are made to follow orders, not debate them.

I move to catch up to my charge before she steps under the balcony.

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