on emotion and base instinct alone. She rammed her shoulder directly into Val’s stomach, knocking the wind from her as they both went careening onto the stone floor. Veronyka heard Val’s head strike the ground with a thud, dazing her, while Veronyka struggled to disentangle herself and get to her feet. Her own head was throbbing in pain from the abrupt movement, but she ignored it.
Veronyka made it onto her knees before Val recovered, her hands scraping and sinking into flesh until finding a grip in Veronyka’s hair and dragging her backward with a hard yank. Veronyka yelped and swung out viciously, landing an elbow to Val’s jaw that forced her to cry out and release her grip.
Veronyka tried to get up again, but Val took hold of her ankle, causing her to stumble. With a growl of frustration, Veronyka used the leg to pin Val down, straddling her, and cocked back her arm for a savage blow.
Only, the hit landed on her face, not Val’s. Out of nowhere, Sidra had joined the fray. She must have come in through the open doorway, and without so much as a word or a warning, she cracked Veronyka across the cheek with the back of her hand.
Veronyka hadn’t seen it coming, and the impact sent her flying to the side. Hot pain spread along her face and neck at the sudden blow, and she slammed into the ground, seeing stars. She blinked and scrambled away from Sidra, who stalked toward her.
“Not her face!” Val shouted from her place on the ground, and the words seemed odd to Veronyka.
Sidra froze midstride, giving Veronyka a chance to scuttle away. One hit had been enough for Veronyka’s eyes to slide out of focus, and she spat blood onto the floor between them.
Val cursed, getting to her feet. “Keep it below the neck, Sidra. He won’t want her if she looks like some back-alley brawler.”
“Who won’t want me?” Veronyka asked sharply, looking between them.
Val smiled, walking over to Veronyka and crouching down so her face was inches away, daring Veronyka to strike again.
“Your new husband,” Val said, smiling even more widely as a flicker of fear crossed Veronyka’s upturned face. “Didn’t I tell you, Veronyka? You’re going to be married.”
“What? Why?”
“Haven’t you listened to what I’ve been telling you? I need to get my empire back, and you’re going to help me. What governor wouldn’t leap at the chance to marry an Ashfire and put themselves on the throne?”
“Lord Rolan,” Veronyka said faintly. “Was this the basis for your supposedly false alliance? His armies for a queen? Or was this something you thought up to punish me for not joining you?”
Val stood upright again, looming over her. “I promised what I needed to promise. I did what needed to be done. If you were standing beside me, not opposite me, you’d have some say in the matter. As it is, you will do what I tell you to do, and while he preens and prances around, betrothed to a princess and preparing for his coronation, I will use his soldiers and his deep pockets to take what is mine.”
“You’re an Ashfire,” Veronyka pointed out. “Why don’t you marry him?”
Val shrugged dismissively. “They’re all far too cowardly to ally with someone like me. As you said yourself, I have a reputation for bloodshed. I doubt any of them would have the stomach to share my crown, let alone my bed. But the daughter of the weak, impressionable Pheronia Ashfire? That is far more appealing.”
“No,” Veronyka said, standing shakily. She dragged the back of her hand across her lip, wiping away a smear of blood as she worked through all Val had said.
Veronyka was accustomed to being a part of Val’s schemes, but when they were young, she’d believed the lie that Val was looking out for her—that her plans were for the best. The night she’d poisoned Veronyka’s bondmate had shattered that illusion, and Veronyka had learned that Val would do anything to achieve her ambitions. To Val, Veronyka was only a means to an end, a tool to be used.
This betrothal should be further proof of that, and yet…
“That’s not it,” Veronyka said, surprised at the revelation. Val gave her a curious look, but Veronyka’s attention was turned inward. “You don’t need me for this—why go through the trouble? Why chase me across the province when you’ve had what you needed all along? You’re an Ashfire. If you really wanted the throne more than anything, you’d