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  “Friends.” The king spread his arms wide, the large sleeves of his robes like great purple wings at either side of him. “We have much to celebrate. We are safe behind our walls. Our fortifications have not suffered a breach in these long years.”

  A cheer broke out in response to this. Everyone quieted as the king continued, “And we will continue to prosper into the next generation with the marriage of my daughter to Prince Fowler.” He paused for an eruption of further applause. I shifted uneasily, forcing a smile. Several goblets banged on tables in salute. “Lagonia shall not only survive but thrive with a second marriage that will more greatly enforce the union of two kingdoms.” The king lifted his goblet high, and others shouted out and cheered. Even a hound bayed, joining the din.

  Everyone drank deeply. I followed suit, deliberately trying not to look in Luna’s direction, to see her reaction to this. Would the words prick at her conscience and make her feel obligated to stay and marry Prince Chasan?

  The king’s voice continued, rolling over the room like a hot vapor and pulling me from my thoughts. “Lift your cups again and toast my nuptials to the queen of Relhok.”

  Stunned silence met the announcement. I blinked and looked around, gauging expressions, questioning whether I had heard what I heard. Everyone else looked as bewildered as I felt.

  Maris was the first to speak. “Father, you mean Chasan’s marriage to Luna, don’t you?”

  Tebald’s cheeks rounded above his beard as he smiled. “No.” He shook his head. “I did not misspeak, daughter. I meant my marriage. I’ve had a change of heart. It’s been some years since your mother died. I’m not yet an old man. I’m certain a young bride will invigorate me. A young rose like Luna is the perfect tonic.”

  My vision clouded for a moment, rage chugging thick as tar in my veins.

  “Father,” Chasan growled in a voice I had never heard him use with his father before. “Don’t do this.” The prince clutched the knife at the side of his plate, his eyes narrowed darkly, and for a moment I thought he might plunge it into his sire. I wouldn’t blame him for that. The thought of the old man’s hands on Luna filled me with a similar impulse.

  My reaction was physical—a sick churning in my stomach. Luna had gone pale, the faint pinkness that had been tingeing her cheeks fading away. I lurched from my chair, the blood rushing in my ears as my chair clattered violently behind me.

  People stared at me. The king stared at me, but I did not care. I was past caring, past playing the biddable, submissive prince of Relhok.

  Chasan rose, too, tossing his napkin down. “She’s not marrying you.”

  The king turned his gaze to Chasan. “Have a care, son.”

  I cleared my throat, warning myself to stay calm. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  The king turned that cruel smile of his on me. “Prince Fowler, I fear you’re forgetting the conversation we had.” He sat back down. “I warned you, did I not? And you claimed you understood your place.”

  I nodded once, inhaling thinly through my nose, fighting to control my temper. “I know my place.”

  Chasan stabbed a finger toward the floor. “You’re not putting your rotting paws on her, old man. Not ever. She’ll never marry you.”

  A hushed awe fell over the hall. Maris gaped and then quickly looked down, ducking her eyes.

  King Tebald lifted his drumming fingers from the arms of his chair and stroked his graying beard. “You risk much standing here saying such words to me, my son. You know men have died for less.”

  And yet Chasan didn’t back down. “I do.”

  Maris reached for her brother’s arms and tugged, trying to bring him back into his chair. “Chasan, no . . .”

  He pulled away.

  The king leaned forward. “You know and yet you speak these things to me. You’re either very brave or very stupid. Either way, taking a bride and begetting an heir who is more respectful to his sire strikes me as a fine idea indeed.”

  I fought back the urge to launch across the space separating me from the king and wrap my hands around the old man’s neck. I stared at the king, my jaw clenched hard, fighting for restraint.

  Maris whispered her brother’s name in a beseeching tone. He paid her no mind, simply shook her off.

  My gaze found Luna, still bloodlessly pale. That expressive mouth of hers trembled as though burdened with too much pressure. I looked from her back to the king, then to her again. Her features were tight and pinched with desperation for me to hold silent. I shook my head and opened my mouth.

  “Perhaps you would like to retire for the evening, Chasan. You seem quite flushed and agitated. Not yourself at all. Usually you are much more composed.” The king arched a bushy eyebrow at his son, offering him a way out; a last reprieve.

  I seethed, my hands knotting into fists at my sides. Somehow I managed to hold my tongue during the exchange. I had to keep it together. I could not lose the king’s trust. Not if I wanted to get Luna out of here before she was forced to marry the old man.

  The king snapped his fingers and guards appeared. “See that Chasan makes it to his chamber. We would not want him to collapse en route.” He smiled again, but his eyes stayed cold and lifeless. Tebald managed to convey absolute menace even when only kind words dropped from his lips.

  The guards moved to either side of Chasan. He gave his father one last long look, and then departed the great hall.

  It was as though, as always, Luna could see me. Sensing her stare, I turned to look at her, hoping to convey to her that she had nothing to worry about. We were still going to escape this place. Sooner rather than later. She wasn’t going to marry Tebald, just like she wasn’t going to marry Chasan.

  She gave a hard shake of her head at me, her eyebrows dipping low over her eyes, commanding me to do nothing.

  I nodded once, more for myself than for her since she couldn’t see me.

  I would hold silent and pretend as though Luna marrying an old man who reminded me so much of my father did not send my body into revolt.

  The dinner continued, this time with the king salivating over Luna. When he hand-fed her a bit of meat with his pudgy, beringed fingers, I couldn’t stomach it any longer. I rose from my chair.

  Maris touched my arm. “Where are you going?”

  “I fear that I might not be quite recovered from the fall I took earlier,” I said, referencing the excuse I had given for my appearance. I didn’t know what excuse Chasan had given for his appearance, but no one had pressed me on the fact that I looked like I’d tangled with a tree wolf. Standing, I turned my attention to the king, who was now looking at me intently. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”

  “Retiring already, Prince Fowler?”

  “Yes, I’m not feeling quite myself.”

  “By all means, rest. We wouldn’t have you sicken on us again. My daughter has her heart set on a wedding next week.”

  I inclined my head. “Of course, Your Majesty. I would not want to disappoint her.”

  “As well you should not.” The king wore a smile, but the threat was implicit.

  It was a threat I would think about on my walk back to my chamber, my hands opening and clenching at my sides as it festered inside me.

  He thought he had me—and Luna. Two whipped puppies under his control.

  He would be wrong, and I would show him just how wrong he was.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Luna

  I LISTENED AS Fowler left, his tread fading to a dull beat over the stone floor of the great hall. I fought the wild need to call him back. It was better if he wasn’t here right now. I knew that. I felt his anger and knew he was close to snapping.

  Still knowing that, it took everything in me not to call Fowler back. If he had not left when he did, he could have lost the fragile trust he had established with Tebald.

  I was not marrying Tebald, but I couldn’t declare that. I had to keep that truth bottled up inside. I needed to keep my composure and suffer this meal, suffer Teba
ld and his roaming fingers.

  My heart thumped furiously in my chest. My head buzzed, the king’s announcement running over and over in my mind. He intended to marry me.

  After Fowler’s departure, conversation revived in the hall. I turned my head left and right, taking it all in. My eyes burned but no tears fell. I squared my shoulders, pulling them back, reminding myself that I was strong. I had survived so much. I would survive this, too.

  I lasted through dessert. Tebald attempted to feed me a candied date and I couldn’t tolerate it any longer. I pushed up from my chair. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. All the excitement has tired me. It’s not every day a king proposes, after all. I’m quite . . . overwhelmed.” Somehow I didn’t choke on the lie.

  “Of course, my dear.” He reached out and grabbed me with one of his hard, square hands. He tugged me down, his grip pinching my skin. I winced, my shoulder joint straining.

  His lips brushed my cheek, his beard, as coarse as the bristles of a paintbrush and with the faint odor of rancid meat, prickling my skin. “I may not have won your mother all those years ago, but I shall have you.”

  Revulsion bubbled through me. His hand squeezed tighter and I whimpered. His breath came hard against my face, putrid and hot on my skin. He was excited at my pain.

  I had to get away. “I look forward to that.” In that moment, I would have said anything.

  I twisted my arm until I managed to free myself. Rubbing where he had gripped me, I gathered up a fistful of my skirts and hurried along the back of the dais.

  I charged ahead, mindful of the steps leading down from the platform. By now I knew the route to my chamber by heart. No one stopped me. They let me go, and that, perhaps, filled me with the bleakest fear of all.

  They thought I could do nothing. They thought I had nowhere to go. Deep down, I was starting to fear they were right. Maybe I was never leaving here.

  The night was silent. My maid had come and gone after brushing my hair and helping ready me for bed as though it wasn’t something I’d done for myself countless times. As though this were any ordinary night and not the first night of my death. Marrying Tebald would be a living death. The thought of marrying Chasan had been bad enough. But Tebald? I shuddered.

  I crossed my hands over my stomach, willing sleep to come. Somehow I didn’t think I would ever sleep well or fully in this place. Especially after tonight. The memory of Tebald’s touch, his words . . . how could I stay here when this place made me feel like my own skin didn’t fit my body? I preferred the Outside with all its dangers to this.

  My bedchamber door creaked open and I lurched upright, heart pounding. My mind leaped to where I’d left my bow and how quickly I could get to it. After this evening’s shock, I fully expected my late-night visitor to be Tebald.

  “Luna.” At Fowler’s hushed voice I sagged with relief.

  “Fowler,” I cried, and then caught myself, dropping my voice. “You shouldn’t be here,” I hissed.

  He crossed the room and closed his hands over my arms. “Get changed. Where are your shoes? Your boots? You can’t go Outside in slippers. You’ll tear them to shreds in minutes.”

  He let go of me and hurried across the room. Cold swept over me. His boots thudded distinctly. He’d changed already, too. I could smell the leather of his doublet.

  I heard him at the bureau, the door slamming against the wall. He rifled through the garments in my wardrobe.

  The cold didn’t fade. I chafed my hands up and down my arms, hugging myself tight as I scooted to the edge of the bed. “Fowler, do you have a new plan? We can’t go through the storeroom again, can we?” I stood and edged forward. “We can’t just charge out into the night—”

  Fowler spun around and advanced on me, his voice darkly intent. “We can’t just stay here and wait for the king to drop any more surprises on us. For all we know he plans to marry you tomorrow. Or maybe he won’t even wait for a wedding at all. He might be on his way to claim you this very evening. Have you considered that?”

  Bile rose up from the back of my throat. Of course I had. I remembered that hand on me, tight and hurting. I thought of what he’d said about my mother, about me.

  I shoved that memory away, shaking my head. I couldn’t think about that. “You’re overwrought.”

  He laughed harshly. “Luna, this whole place is a paper tower ready to crumble at the first wind. We can’t stay.” He pulled me toward the wardrobe. “Now are you going to change? Or do I need to help you?”

  I knew he didn’t mean it. Despite the gravity of his words, he wouldn’t force me to do anything. He needed my compliance. We couldn’t just stroll out the front gate.

  I stepped forward and smoothed a palm down Fowler’s cheek. “So fierce. This isn’t like you.” He’d never been rash. Fowler was smart and calculating. He hadn’t survived on the Outside these last years because of luck.

  His chest lifted on a ragged breath. “Tebald wants you for himself. He won’t stop until he gets you.”

  I nodded and spoke in a placating manner. “But don’t you think we stand a better chance of surviving if we stop and come up with a plan? Maybe Chasan would help. He wasn’t happy either—”

  Fowler laughed roughly, the sound scratchy. “Yes, he’ll help himself.”

  Before I could anticipate his next move, he swept me into his arms and buried his nose in my hair, his mouth directly against my ear.

  Turning his face into my neck, he inhaled me before pressing his mouth to the sensitive skin there. “Luna,” he breathed. “Just the idea of you with Chasan has been bad enough. To think of you with the king . . .”

  I brought both hands into his hair, delving my fingers through the thick mass. “Then don’t think about it.”

  His mouth at my neck sent my thoughts ricocheting. My heart beat like a wild thing as his lips and teeth grazed my skin, making me gasp. My knees threatened to buckle and his arm came up around my waist, hauling me closer and keeping me from falling. He was good at holding me together. Except when he was sending me flying apart. One touch, one kiss from him did that.

  The creak of hinges wove its way through the fog of my thoughts.

  We weren’t alone anymore.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Fowler

  TOO LATE, I heard the click of the door and realized neither of us had thought to bolt it. A gasp sounded. It was ugly and obscene, as though ripped deep from someone’s soul. The peace of our sanctuary, the intimacy between us, shattered.

  We had been discovered. Even so, I felt like I was giving up a part of myself to disengage from Luna and face the door.

  Maris stood there, eyeing us both up and down with her wounded, childlike gaze. “Fowler? What are you doing?” Her perfect features froze in horror as she stood on the threshold. She asked the question, but she knew.

  Luna’s lips worked for speech and she took a step forward. I shook my head, beyond pretending, well past further subterfuge. I was done. I seized Luna’s hand and pulled her to my side. “I’m sorry, Maris. There was never going to be a you and me. Luna and I are leaving.”

  Luna made a small sound of distress, turning her face toward me. “Fowler . . .”

  “You and Luna?” Maris’s eyes darted back and forth between us, her voice shrill. “When?” she sputtered, her gaze dropping to where I held Luna’s hand. “How?”

  Suddenly robed figures appeared behind the princess. A bejeweled hand fell on her shoulder, moving her to the side for the arrival of others. Tebald took his daughter’s place, a great figure in his fine robes of purple, his face a mask of controlled ire.

  He strolled into the bedchamber, casual, elegant even. He gestured idly, flicking a hand at Luna and me. “It’s always been the two of you. Since before you even arrived? Isn’t that correct?”

  I narrowed my gaze on the older man. His small eyes stared back at me, cold and emotionless. I tugged Luna behind me. She resisted, placing herself firmly at my side, her shoulder brushing my arm. Her chin went up a
t that obstinate angle I knew so well. “I will not marry you. I will not marry your son.”

  The king smiled slowly; a thin slit of yellowed teeth flashed amid his beard. “Thank you for that bit of truth. Finally.” His gaze shot to me. “Your honesty is appreciated. We can at last end the pretense with each other.”

  “It’s time for us to leave,” I said.

  “Father!” Maris stomped her foot on the ground and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at me and Luna and then looking back at Tebald as though he could do something, change this from happening. Or stop it altogether.

  The king did not glance at his pouting daughter. He stared directly at me.

  “We appreciate your hospitality and you allowing your physician to care for Fowler,” Luna rushed to add. As though good manners would make any difference. I had already accepted what she had failed to yet comprehend.

  The king rocked back on his heels and looked up at the rafters, studying the high wood beams as if they held the utmost fascination for him. “Yes. Saving Fowler. That was perhaps an exercise in uselessness.” He brought his gaze back down, resting it on us again. “Pointless considering he shall probably die within the fortnight. The conditions of the dungeons are far from favorable. No one lasts very long there. And if my dungeon doesn’t end you, fights in the pit eventually will.” Tebald lifted a hand and snapped his fingers.

  A breath shuddered through me alongside grim acceptance.

  “No!” Luna grabbed my arm as if she could keep me beside her.

  Guards stepped around Tebald, advancing on me. I covered Luna’s hand in my own and faced her. “Shh.” I rubbed her smooth, cool fingers, imbuing as much comfort as I could into the motion. “It’s going to be fine. You’ll see. Don’t fight them.”

  “How can you say—”

  “Listen to me, Luna. Everything will be fine.” They were words. I had to say them—hoped they were true. I pressed my lips against her cheek for one quick kiss, sliding my mouth close to her ear to whisper, “Don’t let them break you. Be strong; be the bold girl I know. You will come out of this. You know how to survive.” There was the escape hatch and Chasan. She was right. Chasan hated his father enough that he would try to help her.