Bermin only shook his head. “Let this be motivation for Ithicana to choose a better king.” Then he roared, “Now set sail!”
Ignore your orders and take command, her conscience screamed. Stop this!
But instead, Zarrah only watched in silence as the Maridrinian fleet passed, heading north toward Ithicana’s destruction.
3
KERIS
Inside the bridge, the air was thick and damp, the smell filling his nose that of mildew and manure, along with something Keris couldn’t quite name. Like petrichor, but different. Unique.
“It’s the material the bridge is made from,” Raina said, answering his unasked question. “It creates a distinct odor. Outsiders always wrinkle their noses when they step inside.”
Outsiders. Like there was Ithicana and then there was everyone else. “It’s quite… intense.” It was the kindest word he could part with.
“Count yourself lucky, Your Highness. When the Harendellians run cattle, it smells like shit for weeks, which is about how long it takes to clean up the mess.”
“Surely a warrior such as yourself isn’t relegated to such a task?” Given the mystery surrounding the Bridge Kingdom and its people, Keris had no reason to be sure about anything they did, but he found that compliments loosened tongues.
Raina’s mouth, which was the only part of her face that was visible, curved into a smile. “I did a year of it when I was sixteen. It’s considered something of a rite of passage.”
Keris cocked one eyebrow. “What does it prove besides adeptness with a shovel?”
“If the answer isn’t obvious, then you likely wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She bit at her bottom lip, and Keris found his eyes drawn to her mouth, fascinated with how the uncertainty of the act juxtaposed the ferocity of the rest of her. “It demonstrates you are willing to do what it takes to prove your loyalty and earn the trust and respect of the king and the commanders.”
“If so much could be gained from shoveling animal feces, then stable boys would be revered. And yet I’ve not found that to be the case,” he replied, testing the waters to see if pricking her pride would cause her to reveal anything interesting.
But Raina was not easily baited. She glanced at the caravan traveling behind them. “Ithicana is a nation built on secrets, and one must earn the right to know them.”
Secrets that the world was desperate to know, none more so than Keris’s father. King Silas Veliant had what could only be described as an obsession with Ithicana’s bridge. With its secrets. Its profits.
With possessing it himself.
And while Maridrina and Ithicana were ostensibly allies, Keris wasn’t of the opinion that his father would let that get in his way if the opportunity arose to snatch the coveted bridge from Ithicana’s hands. Loyalty and trustworthiness were not attributes Keris would ascribe to his father any more than he would sentimentality. Though if the rumors he’d heard were true, Keris’s sister, Lara, was different.
Or pretending to be.
“Has my sister earned the right to those secrets?” Keris bit the inside of his cheeks the moment the question came out. Stay out of it, he silently screamed at himself. The less you know, the better.
“Depends on who you ask.”
It was a shame his good sense never ceased to be silenced by his curiosity. “I’m asking you. Forgive my questions; it’s only that I know little of my younger sister. We were raised apart.”
“I’ve heard.” Raina switched the lantern she carried to the other hand. “Why is that?”
“To protect her from the Valcottans,” Keris answered, though he knew that to be a lie. There was nowhere more well guarded than his father’s harem in Vencia. Lara had been taken away for another reason. Another purpose.
And it was only a matter of time before that purpose revealed itself.
“She’s very beautiful.” Raina cast a sideways glance at him. “She looks like you, Your Highness, if you don’t object to me saying so. You have the same eyes.”
Veliant blue. In all likelihood, Keris inheriting his father’s eye color was the only reason he hadn’t been labeled a bastard and cast aside. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, Keris wasn’t entirely certain. “That doesn’t tell me what she’s like.”
“She makes His Grace very happy.”
Keris smirked. “You’re only saying that because I’m Maridrinian, which means that I must think the sum of a woman is whether she makes men happy.”
The corners of her mouth turned up. “Am I wrong?”
“Oh, yes. I’m far more selfish than you’re giving me credit for—I only care if they make me happy.”
She laughed, a high tinkling sound like wind chimes on a summer day, the echoes of it filling the dark expanse of the bridge, making Keris smile.
Then his father’s voice echoed through his thoughts: Rest assured that I will find a way to use you to my benefit, and his smile fell away.
“Are you well, Your Highness?”
“Quite,” Keris said, and then belied his own words by walking a little faster.
Keris leaned against the inside of the bridge, watching the flickering flame of a lantern. He was exhausted from a day’s worth of walking, but unlike his snoring entourage, he couldn’t fall asleep on the bedroll the Ithicanians had provided.
Sleep never came easily to him, especially when he wasn’t alone or protected by solid walls and a locked door. He’d been stabbed in the back—literally—too many times for that. Such was the nature of being a Maridrinian prince, the sheer number of brothers ensuring constant jockeying for position, which often meant eliminating the competition. Keris had survived this long because his brothers hadn’t perceived him as a threat, choosing instead to murder the best warriors and most ambitious politicians among them. It had all worked very well until the last of his elder brothers had been killed, leaving Keris as heir, whether he wanted to be or not. And the heir was always the greatest target of all.
The slight scuff of boots caught his attention, and he looked up to see Raina step into the pool of lantern light from where she’d been standing guard farther up the bridge tunnel. She stopped next to a sleeping Ithicanian, shaking him awake. The man rose without hesitation, buckling his weapons on as he walked to take the place she’d vacated. The other Ithicanians keeping watch did the same—a finely oiled machine that ensured nothing happened in the bridge that Ithicana did not see.
Raina’s eyes landed on him. “You should rest, Your Highness. We’ve many more days of walking, and if you can’t keep the pace, I’ll have to ask you to ride with your friends.”
Keris wrinkled his nose, casting a sideways glance at the unconscious group of men. “They aren’t my friends.” He didn’t have friends.
Unbuckling her sword belt, Raina sat on the ground with her legs crossed, weapon resting on her knees. “Who are they, then?”
“They are what my father deems suitable company.”