Candidate (The Black Mage #3)

We might have been in the same place at the same time, but for all the actual time we had spent together we might as well have been miles and miles apart.

Once the alliance is forged it will only be a matter of time before you return to the palace anyway, as his wife. My annoyance began to fade. The two of us would have more time then. Without the stress of Pythian negotiations, Darren would be dismissed from most of the less pertinent Crown affairs, and the two of us would be able to serve together on the King’s Regiment.

I wondered if the king would consider granting Darren and me service in the Crown’s Army among its patrols. Once Blayne and his new princess secured an heir, surely Darren would be granted more freedom than before. Anything was possible.

In the meantime, I would return to Ferren’s Keep. Crown politics took precedence here. Even Darren had fallen behind in his training, and the Candidacy was only six short months away.

I needed every advantage I could get.

“Ryiah…”

My guard ducked out of the room just as the younger prince appeared at its entrance, looking unusually out of sorts. Darren’s hair was all over the place, as if he had run his hand through it one too many times and then given up completely. He studied the door for a moment and then heaved a great sigh and shut it behind him.

“If your father’s advisors find out we are alone in my chamber they will flay us both alive.” It was supposed to be teasing, but the comment came out a little more breathless than I would have liked.

One of the many things the palace scholars had endlessly drilled into me was the importance of a bride possessing certain qualities. Qualities that were becoming increasingly hard to keep during moments the two of us were alone.

A sad smile lit the prince’s features, and when he met my eyes it wasn’t what I expected. “Are you happy here, Ryiah?"

Panic gripped my lungs. Was something wrong? Why was he looking at me like that? “O-of course.” Liar.

“What you did last night.” Darren cleared his throat. “It was amazing. Ryiah, my father was impressed…”

I never heard what came next—it was all I could do to stand still and scream a silent thanks to the gods above. For a moment…for a moment I had thought Darren might be here to tell me the king wanted to call off our engagement.

“He would never go so far as to actually praise a lowborn’s actions, but he’s agreed to your attendance for the remainder of the Pythian negotiations. I convinced him the etiquette lessons weren’t necessary to your stay. You will be placed in the King’s Regiment instead.”

I hesitated. The conversation had taken an unexpected turn. “Darren, your father granted me leave until Blayne’s wedding. Did he rescind his offer?”

The prince stared at me, a crease forming along his brow. “No, but…I thought you would want to stay.” He ran a hand along his jaw and he seemed to be struggling against something unsaid. “Even after six months apart, you would still prefer Ferren? Even if you could be a part of the Crown negotiations and the palace regiment?”

I swallowed, an uneasy feeling entering the pit of my stomach. “I know you don’t want to be here, either. Not truly.” He had said it more than once.

Darren’s jaw clenched. “Did you even miss me at all, Ryiah?”

“You know I did.” I frowned. Two days before he hadn’t seemed the least bit disturbed when we discussed my return to the keep. “What’s wrong?” What changed?

“The two of us might as well be strangers for all the time we have shared since our engagement.” Darren’s gaze seared into mine. “And once King Horrace finds out the Pythians have extended their visit? It’s too dangerous to patrol up north. Caltoth can’t be trusted not to retaliate. I don’t want you there if something happens.”

“If anything, the Caltothians will be more likely to hold off now that their alliance is at risk.” I studied Darren’s defensive stance. I didn’t believe for a moment he thought the keep was dangerous. There was something else bothering him, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“Darren…”

He started towards the door, and then paused, still facing the wall. “When were you going to tell me he was stationed there, too?”

I balked, thrown off by the sudden change of topic. “W-what?”

“Ian.” The non-heir spun around to face me, and his eyes were twin pools of fire.

“Ian?” Was that all this was? Jealousy? I wanted to laugh but Darren looked so serious I thought better of it.

“Commander Nyx’s monthly report to the Crown arrived this morning.” Darren didn’t bother to hide his disdain. “His name was mentioned in your patrols. I checked the records and he accepted a post and sent word the day after your ascension. If I were a betting man I would say it was because he heard you were to take up at the keep.”

“It’s been three years. Ian doesn’t still harbor those feelings—”

Rachel E. Carter's books