smooth in all her movements, and so good at hiding her secrets with a smile—except when it came to things she cared about, like Simone. That was when lies showed on Gwyneth’s face. Even now, I was learning from her. Everything I still cared about had to cease to show on my face.
On our last turn, we walked down a drafty passageway headed toward a large double door. Its thick black hinges branched out in tangled thorns. The guards knocked, and I heard the heavy slide of a bolt unlatched within. I was thrown forward because the guards seemed to know no other way of releasing prisoners, but this time I was ready and only stumbled.
I entered a silent room. My gaze fell on Kaden first, his jaw tight, the telltale vein rising on his neck as he took in my new coarse attire. Was it shame or anger I saw flashing through his eyes? But I also noticed he had bathed—and changed. With his Morrighese disguise discarded, he looked like one of them now, an animal of a different stripe. He wore a loose shirt cut in their style, and a trail of bones hung from his weapon belt. This had been the real Kaden all along.
And then I saw Rafe. His back was to me, and his hands were shackled behind him with a guard close at his side. I looked away quickly and settled my gaze on the Komizar instead.
“Perfect timing, Princess,” he said. “Your farmhand just arrived too.” He waved me forward until I was standing near Rafe.
The Komizar still wore the baldrick, and now Walther’s sword dangled from it too. He grinned as I took it in. I molded my gaze to steel. From this moment forward, I would make my brother’s pillaged goods my strength rather than my weakness.
He stepped to the center of the room and threw his hands out to his sides. “It’s a historic day in Venda, my brethren. Not one, but two prisoners.” He still spoke in Morrighese, I assumed for our benefit. I didn’t know if Rafe understood Vendan or not. I cursed myself for not asking when we were in the holding room together. Details like this could matter later on. The Komizar turned his attention to me and Rafe. “I hope you both appreciate your good fortune to even be prisoners. It’s a rare privilege—though it may be fleeting.” His voice was playful, his expression almost cheerful. He walked closer to me, lifted a strand of damp hair from my shoulder, then dropped it with distaste. “I already know why you’re here. A royal with a supposed gift that my Assassin believes will be useful to Venda.” He shrugged. “Time will tell.”
He turned to Rafe. “But, you … tell me why I shouldn’t slice you from gizzard to gut right now and punish the soldiers who didn’t kill you on sight.”
“Because I have news for you that will benefit Venda.” Rafe’s answer was quick and confident.
The Komizar laughed in a way that made the room grow darker. “So I’ve heard.” He walked over to the table in the center of the room and hoisted himself up on it, sitting on its edge with his legs dangling. He looked more like a swaggering ruffian sitting in a pub than a ruler. “Chievdar Stavik told me of your claim,” he said. “But the soldiers tell me otherwise. A smitten farmhand, they call you, and the princess seemed to think you showed up just for her. I understand there was an entertaining embrace.”
“I was a familiar face in a foreign land,” Rafe answered. “I can’t help that the girl latched on to me. But I’m not a fool when it comes to women. Pleasure is one thing; business is another. I wouldn’t show up on a hostile doorstep over a mere summer distraction.”
The Komizar’s eyes flickered to me. I glared at Rafe.
“A distraction,” the Komizar repeated, nodding. “So being a farmhand was only a ruse?”
“The prince sent me to find out if the girl really fled the wedding or if it was a planned retaliation all along, for past grievances. In case you aren’t aware, Dalbreck’s had a long, rocky relationship with our nearest neighbors. Shall I recite the entire history of petty actions perpetrated by Morrighan? However, the king’s offer of marriage was a genuine effort to bury past grievances.”
“And to create an alliance.”
“Yes.”
“To wield more power over us.”
“Isn’t that what every political move is about? Power and getting