“All they would say was that I was blackmail to get you to pick their ‘man.’” The princess’s grip on his hand changed as Luca pressed his other hand against hers—now he was holding her rather than letting her lead. “Honestly, my money was on Basilica, because King Domingu isn’t exactly known for playing fair.”
She laughed a little. “Kill your brother to obtain absolute power and no one will bat an eye when you propose to murder your wife to marry your own great-granddaughter.”
Luca’s dimples winked. “Or Myrcell—didn’t the boy king float your name as a potential bride two years ago? And King Sendoa told him to wait five years before even speaking with you or risk losing an ear?”
Amarande blushed. Yes. It was true. At fourteen, she’d felt intensely embarrassed by the whole episode—that this man of eighteen would even think of her in that way. She knew now it was so much more than a request of the heart. “Father thought Akil to be just a pretty face. Nothing in his head.”
“And then there’s Pyrenee.” Here, he chuckled to himself and swung their entwined hands. “Honestly, I’m surprised you believe it was them. I have no idea why Renard would try so hard after you stole his own sword and pressed it to his throat in front of thousands of people, including the most important ones on the continent, but I suppose maybe he likes a challenge.”
“I believe he abhors challenge, actually. He hates that his mother is making him work for his crown.”
“Fair enough.” Luca paused for a moment. “Though then there’s Taillefer. I’m not convinced he was joking about you assassinating his brother for him.”
“True. But that might just be how Taillefer shows affection.” Whenever duty had put them in the same place, the princess had always thought the younger prince to be idiosyncratic. Whereas Renard went through the prescribed motions with manufactured charm and stoicism, Taillefer always did his part with a smile on his face like he was laughing at a joke no one else could hear.
Luca kicked out a laugh. “Affection? With hemlock around his neck?”
Amarande’s mouth dropped open. “The flowers? Those were hemlock?”
“Yes. There’s a grove by the stream behind the stable. I’m always trying to kill it off so the horses don’t get into it.”
The princess’s stomach plummeted. Poison strong enough to kill her tiger father was just steps away from the stable he’d last visited before he died. More she didn’t know.
“Maybe he would go the Domingu route, as he put it … but they seem close otherwise.”
Luca placed a hand on her shoulder, warm and gentle. “I’m sure Domingu and Han were close right up until the moment a knife came between them and Han’s lifeblood dripped onto Domingu’s boots.”
Though more than a half century old, the story was well known in the Sand and Sky and often retold simply for the sensationalism of it: a dagger in the back of the crown prince as the two sons of Basilica paid their final respects at their father’s deathbed.
Amarande was sure Domingu encouraged its popularity as a means of maintaining his reputation. The princess squeezed Luca’s fingers. “You have a point. And Domingu had one literally.”
Luca shook his head, dimples winking. “Every last person of nobility other than you is dirty enough to make you think these pirates were working for someone else.”
This was true. Every one of them was as deadly as those Harea Asps. Still, Renard’s face at dinner—his exact response when she’d mentioned Luca’s name—flashed in Amarande’s mind. He hadn’t reacted. Not even a little bit. But he was a boy who lived in a castle full of vipers. It was ridiculous not to think he was one, too.
The tide was changing, and Amarande pivoted slightly toward the eastern horizon and home. Luca pulled her all the way there. And then they took their first steps in the direction of Ardenia, walking hand in hand toward the problem rather than away from it.
After a time, Luca goaded her to mount the horse. She did, and he followed. He wrapped his arms tight around her, his broad form shielding her from the sun. They were going back the way of the pirates, but hopefully the three had been confused enough that they wouldn’t run into them. Maybe.
When Mira broke into a trot, Luca revived his unanswered question. “Ama, what did the letter say?”
Somehow, with his arms around her and his chin tucked against the crook between her neck and her shoulder, Amarande felt only as if she would melt, not completely combust. She gave Mira a kick to increase her speed and the tenor of the wind rushing around them. She’d definitely feel the need to burst into a million stars if she truly heard what he had to say to this.
“‘Marry Renard or you will never see your love again.’”
It might have been her imagination, but though she didn’t hear a gasp or swear or other exclamation, Luca’s arms seemed to grow tighter about her waist as they thundered across the sand and brush.
CHAPTER
28
“THEY took everything,” Dunixi bellowed, kicking at the dirt. It didn’t get him anything except for a coughing fit as dust wafted up in a fine, choking cloud. The pirates were spread around the remains of their camp, cataloging it all—what was missing, what was damaged, what was miraculously unharmed.
“Not everything. My saddlebag is still here,” Urtzi announced, holding his bag aloft from his side of the snuffed-out fire.
“My everything and her everything, you moron,” the leader spat, gesturing to Ula, who was crouched over where her belongings had been. All of it was missing, save for her beloved sword, plus her journal and pencil, which had slipped away in the struggle. Gone—her food, water, extra clothes. Dunixi had been relieved of his items as well. Smoke was nearly coming out of his ears. “Which amounts to more everything than your everything.”
Urtzi just stared at the Eritrian. “None of those words make sense put together, Dunixi.”
“Whatever. They took our stuff. And we weren’t even completely horrible to the stableboy.”
“Luca,” Ula snapped, emphasizing the boy’s name. Dunixi didn’t amend his statement. Just kicked the dirt with his other foot. When his temper tantrum was mostly complete, Ula spoke again. “They also saved us from certain death.”
“It wasn’t certain those asps would’ve bitten us,” Dunixi responded. “Though it is too bad about Ferri.” He gestured to where Urtzi’s palomino had once been. The horse had been so spooked during the fight that she ran off as the princess and stableboy escaped.
After a moment of silence, Ula continued. “Losing Ferri isn’t for the best, but I, for one, would not trade how things turned out for a chance to go back and repeat it and die of snakebite.”
“Me either,” Urtzi agreed, sauntering over to Ula and offering up his waterskin.
“Cowards.”
To Ula’s ears, Dunixi sounded like he meant it, and that was extremely annoying. She caught glances with Urtzi, who finally seemed to be chewing on the truth that he could fry up Dunixi’s intestines for breakfast, supper, or dinner.
Ula swallowed a gulp of water, set her eyes upon her leader, and took a deep, calming breath before trying to steer the conversation somewhere useful. In truth, it was high morning and they’d lost their bounty, and each second they argued or dwelled was a second lost in retrieving it. “Dunixi, what’s our plan now? Go after them?”