Page 61 of Tarnished Crown

A humorless laugh escaped his lips, and he looked at the ceiling as if it held some answer he was searching for.

“Oh, so thisisabout that,” he said, looking back at me. “The severing of the very deep connection you managed to make in...Was it even a full two weeks?”

“Just because you’re a shriveled-up broken shell of a person who is incapable of loving anyone or anything outside of himself doesn’t mean you get to apply that to me,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“And just because you’re a naive, spoiled brat who has never had to make a single storms-forsaken difficult decision in her life does not mean you get to apply your narrow outlook of morality to me.” He spat the words, and it was my turn to laugh.

I shook my head, making a sound of disbelief in the back of my throat. “You talk about difficult decisions like you did this for some greater good. Tell me, Evander, if this was about something other than spiting Theo or Iiro or Clan Elk or Lochlann orme, why lead your people straight to a war?”

He looked at me then as if I were nothing more than a foolish child.

“You keep saying that, but have you considered how unlikely it is that your father will attack the very place where he believes his daughter is being held?”

I had, actually, considered that. “When you have no proof that I’m alive and no way to get him any? I know my father, and he will tear this kingdom apart brick by brick until he finds me.” And if he didn’t, my mother would.

“Even on the threat ofhis favorite daughterbeing killed?” The corners of his eyes pinched, and I couldn’t tell if he was patronizing me or if some part of him rebelled against what he had said.

“I’m hardly his favorite,” I muttered bitterly. Probably quite the opposite at this point. “But when he finds out I’m being held captive? He still won’t hesitate. My father was Captain of the Guard before he was King. It’s no secret to him that there are things worse than death.”

The words hung between us, coating the air with a hostility so thick I felt physically suffocated by it. Evander’s tempestuous eyes met mine, his mouth quirking into an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“And is this?” His tone was quiet, dangerous, like the whisper of a sword sliding from its sheath. “Worse than death?”

Tension stretched between us, a precarious cord poised to snap, and I swallowed.

“It doesn’t matter,” I finally said quietly. “It only matters what he will think. And what he will do because of it.”

“I see.” Evander stepped back, turning to go. “Well, Lemmikki, wars take time, even for the indomitable King of Lochlann. So settle in, because we have months yet to think about that.”

The door slammed shut before I could think of a response, and I cursed. At least his visit had accomplished one thing. Instead of being depressed, I was furious now and determined to find a way out of this and away from him.

Volatile or not, I would have to return to see the duke. I felt guilty for taking advantage of his situation, even if he was a terrible person, but I was desperate enough to try to persuade him to let me go.

As usual, his son had left me no choice.

CHAPTER42

It was a few more days before I worked up the nerve to visit Aleksander again.

Steeling myself, I entered his room through the glass doors on the balcony. The duke was already sitting at the breakfast table. He rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, the movements jerky and agitated.

I had clearly not chosen the right day to return.

A voice in my head told me to leave, to be smart for once and try again another day, but the more prominent voice reminded me that my options were limited.

So I warily perched onto my usual chair across from him. Aleksander’s attention snapped to me, and he sat back, crossing his arms.

“You think you can just come here after what your daughter did?” He scoffed. “That I will protect you?”

I furrowed my brow.Who does he think I am?

“I don’t have time for this today. I need to clean up the mess that family of yours made. I will give you my decision in the morning.” With a gesture, he dismissed me and went back to his cup of coffee.

My mind reeled. I debated leaving quietly but couldn’t make my feet move.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I found myself asking a question. “Who is my family?”

Aleksander set his mug down. He looked up at me with a condescending expression that reminded me so much of Evander that for a moment I nearly forgot that I should be afraid.