town and harbor. Until then, we will hold the palace and continue as if nothing has happened. Do you think you can manage that—Captain Jeck?”
My eyes widened in understanding. Garrett was going to pass me off as the real princess. He was going to… He was going to kill Kavenlow!
Garrett flicked his fair hair from his eyes and frowned at the blood on his uniform’s coat. “Have your men managed to find the last of the guards?” he asked as he took it off. Sweat stained his silk shirt underneath.
“Yes, Prince Garrett.” It was a tight admission, and I could hear Jeck’s frustration for having to take such abuse from someone so young.
Garrett’s smile made a mockery of his handsome face. “Good. Something done right. Lock them in their own cells. They will be oarsmen when we need them.”
I stood in shock. My betrothal plans had been nothing but a ruse. Garrett glanced at me and rubbed his bitten hand. “Has her room been searched?”
Jeck nodded. A part of me noticed his boots were as well-made as Garrett’s, but heavier.
“Put her there,” Garrett said. “And keep someone outside her door. I don’t care if it’s the Second Coming, there will be a guard on her. Is that clear, Captain?”
“Yes, Prince Garrett.” Jeck’s tone was heavy with repressed anger. “And the bodies?”
Garrett had moved to the game board, his breathing slowing as he took in the shifting of the pieces that had occurred. My father’s careful plans to snag me had been destroyed, knocked askew in the slaughter. “Bury them in the gardens,” he said as he tipped a piece upright onto the wrong square. “All of them.”
My stomach twisted. Buried without markers, without rites.
“And, Jeck,” Garrett said idly. “Have someone run down their chancellor. He’s headed for a mountain peak called Bird Island.” The prince nudged a pawn on the dividing line to sit dead center on a black square. “When he joins up with a woman with straight, fair hair, I want them, and anyone with them, killed.”
“Yes, Prince Garrett.”
My pulse quickened. I had known it, but to hear it said aloud made it terrifyingly real.
Garrett shifted to the opposite side of the board and reached for a black piece. “Knight takes pawn,”
he said, eying me as he removed the piece and set it aside.
“You’re wharf slime,” I said, knowing I would stay alive only as long as he needed me. “You’re the muck we scrape from the bottom of our boats and throw into the chu pits. Starving wolves wouldn’t eat you. Your insides will be drawn out through your nose. You—”
Taking three steps, Garrett closed the gap between us. My eyes widened, and I gasped when he pulled his sword. Panicking, I twisted to escape. The guard’s grip on me jerked and went slack. I broke free and ran for the unseen door.
“Catch her!” I heard.
I fell, my feet pulled out from under me. Scrabbling violently, I twisted. The heel of my palm struck something. There was a pained grunt, and I was yanked to my feet. It was Jeck, the captain of the guard.
The man held me up off the floor. My pulse hammered, and I froze as his grip bit painfully into my arms.
This one would give me twice the hurt if I struggled.
There was a wet cough from the floor. My gaze darted from Jeck’s eyes to the tiles. I took a frightened breath, unable to look away. The guard had dropped me because Garrett had run him through.
The young sentry writhed on the floor, his blood washing the slate tiles as he struggled to rise with little gurgles, finally falling still.
“He was the best man I had!” Jeck exclaimed in frustrated anger. “Why?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” A bright flush hid Garrett’s freckles. “Get her to her room.”
Jeck held me as Garrett wiped his sword clean and sheathed it. The Misdev prince walked past me without a glance, a frown twisting his youthful face into an ugly mask.
“Let me go!” I demanded when Jeck pulled me down the path
My eyes widened in understanding. Garrett was going to pass me off as the real princess. He was going to… He was going to kill Kavenlow!
Garrett flicked his fair hair from his eyes and frowned at the blood on his uniform’s coat. “Have your men managed to find the last of the guards?” he asked as he took it off. Sweat stained his silk shirt underneath.
“Yes, Prince Garrett.” It was a tight admission, and I could hear Jeck’s frustration for having to take such abuse from someone so young.
Garrett’s smile made a mockery of his handsome face. “Good. Something done right. Lock them in their own cells. They will be oarsmen when we need them.”
I stood in shock. My betrothal plans had been nothing but a ruse. Garrett glanced at me and rubbed his bitten hand. “Has her room been searched?”
Jeck nodded. A part of me noticed his boots were as well-made as Garrett’s, but heavier.
“Put her there,” Garrett said. “And keep someone outside her door. I don’t care if it’s the Second Coming, there will be a guard on her. Is that clear, Captain?”
“Yes, Prince Garrett.” Jeck’s tone was heavy with repressed anger. “And the bodies?”
Garrett had moved to the game board, his breathing slowing as he took in the shifting of the pieces that had occurred. My father’s careful plans to snag me had been destroyed, knocked askew in the slaughter. “Bury them in the gardens,” he said as he tipped a piece upright onto the wrong square. “All of them.”
My stomach twisted. Buried without markers, without rites.
“And, Jeck,” Garrett said idly. “Have someone run down their chancellor. He’s headed for a mountain peak called Bird Island.” The prince nudged a pawn on the dividing line to sit dead center on a black square. “When he joins up with a woman with straight, fair hair, I want them, and anyone with them, killed.”
“Yes, Prince Garrett.”
My pulse quickened. I had known it, but to hear it said aloud made it terrifyingly real.
Garrett shifted to the opposite side of the board and reached for a black piece. “Knight takes pawn,”
he said, eying me as he removed the piece and set it aside.
“You’re wharf slime,” I said, knowing I would stay alive only as long as he needed me. “You’re the muck we scrape from the bottom of our boats and throw into the chu pits. Starving wolves wouldn’t eat you. Your insides will be drawn out through your nose. You—”
Taking three steps, Garrett closed the gap between us. My eyes widened, and I gasped when he pulled his sword. Panicking, I twisted to escape. The guard’s grip on me jerked and went slack. I broke free and ran for the unseen door.
“Catch her!” I heard.
I fell, my feet pulled out from under me. Scrabbling violently, I twisted. The heel of my palm struck something. There was a pained grunt, and I was yanked to my feet. It was Jeck, the captain of the guard.
The man held me up off the floor. My pulse hammered, and I froze as his grip bit painfully into my arms.
This one would give me twice the hurt if I struggled.
There was a wet cough from the floor. My gaze darted from Jeck’s eyes to the tiles. I took a frightened breath, unable to look away. The guard had dropped me because Garrett had run him through.
The young sentry writhed on the floor, his blood washing the slate tiles as he struggled to rise with little gurgles, finally falling still.
“He was the best man I had!” Jeck exclaimed in frustrated anger. “Why?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” A bright flush hid Garrett’s freckles. “Get her to her room.”
Jeck held me as Garrett wiped his sword clean and sheathed it. The Misdev prince walked past me without a glance, a frown twisting his youthful face into an ugly mask.
“Let me go!” I demanded when Jeck pulled me down the path
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