The Prince's Bargain - K.M. Shea Page 0,89

the set down they deserve.”

Myth rolled her eyes. “It was still inappropriate.”

“Yes, well, you didn’t have the guts to tell Father that, so I’m going to forcefully interpret it as an event you would happily repeat.”

“I tried to say something, but I was ignored!”

“Run over is the phrase you’re searching for, I believe.” Arvel winked at Myth, then twisted to address Thad and the squad of soldiers trailing behind him. “Isn’t that right, Captain Thad?”

“I couldn’t say, Your Royal Highness,” Thad politely said.

Arvel rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to back me up, Captain Thad. You know, loyalty and all of that.”

“I am married to an elf, My Lord,” Thad reminded him. “Loyalty and all of that.”

“I see how it is.” Arvel laughed and gestured for Myth to follow him when they turned up a different hall. “We’re going back to my study, so we’ll take a shortcut through the Celebration Hall.”

“I thought this afternoon you were slated to continue to work on the investigation into the fires?”

“Not for another hour or so. There’s some work I’d like to finish before we trot down to the library—I think your friend is one of the wizards on the restoration team, so you should be able to see her,” Arvel said.

Myth tugged on the sleeve of her jacket, smoothing a wrinkle. “She had mentioned she volunteered.”

Blaise had also mentioned Wizard Edvin had blithely agreed, but the rest of the wizards on the restoration team had instantly gotten suspicious. Blaise complained they watched her with such scrutiny that she and Wizard Edvin were the only ones getting much of anything done.

Myth smiled at the thought, her heart lighter than it had been since the fire in the library.

Only a week had passed since the Fultons were judged, but it felt like a blissful month instead. Arvel was still deep in his investigation into the fires, but Myth was no longer dreaming of copying out ledgers and trade records at night, and most of the socials Arvel attended took on a lighter feeling without Queen Luciee icily glaring her disapproval.

“Are you sure you’re fine with returning to the library this afternoon?” Arvel asked.

“Yes. Seeing it yesterday was reassuring, in a way. It wasn’t as damaged as it seemed at the time of the fire—though I’m still sorry for the ancient banners and tapestries that were lost.”

“As am I,” Arvel said. “But we can restore it and rebuild it.” The smile he gave Myth was gentler and more caressing than his usual bright grin. “The relationship between Lessa and Calnor has changed. The library will always be a symbol of our relationship, but we’re better now.”

“Yes.”

They were almost to the doors of the Celebration Hall when a servant bearing a sealed message trotted up behind them. “Captain Thad?”

“Yes?” Thad held up his hand to stop his men.

“I have a letter here for you.”

Thad stiffened. “From Evlawyn?”

“I dunno, Sir.”

Myth watched Thad open the letter as Arvel pushed open the hall doors.

Thad glanced over the letter, and his brow wrinkled in confusion. “It doesn’t say anything.”

Myth and Arvel, standing on the threshold of the Celebration Hall, frowned.

“What?” Arvel took a step toward Thad.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get any farther.

19

Myth felt hands on her shoulders, and she was roughly yanked backwards. She tried to yell a warning, but someone was already pushing the doors shut. Arvel, his daggers out, barely slipped through before a man slammed the doors into place.

The crown prince chopped the side of his hand into the man’s throat, toppling him, then tried to open a door. Two more men were on him in an instant, lunging at him with short swords as a third man slipped a timber of wood through the door handles, barring it shut.

The doors shook—presumably as Thad and his Honor Guards rammed into them.

Arvel tried to kick the timber out of place, but his assailants were keeping him too busy.

Myth struggled, fighting against the man dragging her deeper into the hall. It wasn’t until she thought to elbow him in the throat that she got a chance to scream. “Arvel!”

With a curse, Arvel gave up on the doors, evaded the two swordsmen, and chased after her.

Myth shook off her gurgling captor and fled, meeting Arvel at the halfway point.

She could hear the piercing whistles of the Honor Guard—Thad was calling for help—as she set her back to Arvel’s.

The man she had elbowed was still recovering, but at least two dozen men emerged from the shadows of the hall.

“Arvel,” Myth whispered as a