So Zander was aware that I tried to steal it. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll try again?”
“I think you’re smart enough not to.”
True. Now that I’ve seen firsthand how talented he is with a weapon, I can appreciate how foolish my attempt was. Are all elven as skilled as he is?
He slides his dagger back into its place at his hip. “Do your injuries still hurt?”
“Not really. Tight more than anything.”
“Perhaps Wendeline should take another look.”
“I thought her talents would be far better used elsewhere.”
“Do you plan on throwing back every word that’s ever escaped my mouth?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll see what I remember.”
“Which is quite a lot, ironically.” He smirks. “Are you wondering why I’ve moved you here?”
“No. I understand.”
“I’m glad you haven’t lost your keen skills for deception.” His interest drifts over the mantel, the flowers, the furniture. Everything but me.
“So what’s the plan?”
“As I expected, the rumors are running rampant in the court. You will meet me in the throne room shortly to receive your formal absolution for all crimes. Tomorrow, Wendeline will begin helping you fill in holes in your memory, so you can at least appear to have some knowledge of who you are. You will smile and listen and not speak.”
“At all?” A princess who defers to her betrothed on all matters of the court.
“As little as possible,” he amends. “Should someone attempt to make contact, you will tell me.”
“Of course.” I have no reason not to.
He wanders, his fingers absently grazing a bloom in an urn. “Word that you are alive will reach your mother quickly, which is precisely what we want. She will not try to cross the rift with an army if she thinks you are still manipulating me. She would much rather claim this throne through duplicitous schemes than bloodshed. She will also likely attempt to contact you through her network of spies.”
“She has spies here, in Cirilea?”
“Surely, just as we have ears in Ybaris. They are not the most reliable or connected, but they are better than nothing.”
I frown. “How do you have contacts over there?”
“That is not your concern.”
I sigh. Another secret to add to the list.
“You will not be permitted to move about freely. Elisaf will be your escort any time you leave this suite.”
I expected as much. I wouldn’t let me roam freely either, and Zander is strategic, not stupid. I don’t mind having Elisaf as a permanent sidekick. “Sounds simple enough.” Not a necklace or ring to be lifted.
“Fooling some of the Islorian lords and ladies will be anything but simple. Though you did it once already.” His jaw clenches. Is he thinking what I’m thinking? That Princess Romeria fooled him too? “While in public, we will appear as if all is forgiven, and we are still very much enamored with each other. I assume that won’t be a problem for you. If the tower is any indication, you are more than capable of pretending, even without your memory intact.”
He’s not going to let that go anytime soon. “And what does being enamored entail exactly?”
“Take my arm when we walk, hold my hand occasionally. Pretend we enjoy each other’s company. We used to spend time walking the grounds in the evenings. I suppose we should begin doing that again. Though, for both our sakes, we can make sure your performance is far more respectable this time around.”
My cheeks grow hot, given what I suspect those cedar hedges and leafy corners are privy to once the sun slips beyond the horizon.
I’m not the only one, I’m relieved to note, as a slight blush mottles Zander’s cheek.
“Holding hands. Got it.” And nothing more. “Corrin mentioned a wedding. It’s just talk, right?”
“The king is expected to have a queen by his side to rule, and we have to give people something to look forward to. But we will push it to Hudem, under pretenses of proper mourning for the late king and queen. That will give us time to ferret out anyone within the castle who was working with you and buy time with your mother.”
That’s the night of the next blood moon. “And what happens if this traitor doesn’t come forward by then?”
“They will. They must.”
“But if they don’t …?” I press.
His gaze skitters over my dress again. “Then I suppose Islor will have its Ybarisan queen. At least, in appearance.”
I feel my eyes widening in shock. He’s saying I’ll have to marry him?
“Unless you’d prefer to go back to your confine—”
“No. It’s fine.”
His brow is furrowed tightly. “Let us hope it doesn’t come to that.” He looks no more thrilled by the idea of marriage than I am.
But my opportunistic mind works quickly. “Would we be going into the nymphaeum too?”
His eyebrows pop with surprise.
“Wendeline mentioned it,” I add.
“Then she would have also mentioned that there is only one reason for us to go there.”
Two reasons, one of which you know nothing about. “I know.”
His teeth grit. “I would never force that upon you, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not a monster, despite what you think.”
Is there nothing Wendeline didn’t repeat?
Marrying him is bad enough, but somehow convincing Zander that I want him to take me there might be my best chance for snatching that stone. Malachi could whisk me away with his godly powers before I’m required to consummate anything, and I can put all of this—including my marriage to a king—behind me.
But I am a snake to him. He still doesn’t trust me, even if he believes Wendeline’s version that the old Romeria is gone. He would never fall for that a second time.
Still, if there is some way the new Romeria can win him over … it might be my only opportunity.
His lips are pressed flat as he regards me a moment. “If there’s nothing else, I will see you in the throne room. Try to act like the future queen and not some boorish laborer imbibing at the tavern.” He strolls stiffly toward my door, pausing when he reaches it, his back to me. “Corrin was the queen’s lady maid and confidante—a rare position for a mortal. She feels responsible for what happened to them because she did not see it coming until it was too late. My mother trusted her implicitly, which is why I also trust her. That she was willing to take on your care despite her anguish is a testament to her love for my family, and for Islor. Perhaps you can keep that in mind when you show such casual disregard for her services.”
He leaves without a second glance, quietly pulling the door shut behind him.
Chapter Fifteen
Elisaf stands next to a coat of arms, dressed in his formal uniform, gripping the hilt of his sword with the arm that Zander nearly hacked off earlier.
I can’t help but beam as we approach him, my relief temporarily overwhelming the nerves churning in my stomach.
He bows and announces, “I will escort Her Highness from here per the king’s orders.”