Page 7 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

Did she want to?

My mind flashed back to the night she left and the uncertainty I saw in her eyes when I told her to go. She didn’t know what she wanted. Not at the Summit, and not later at the negotiations, and sure as storms not when she left.

But hadn’t she always fought to get back to him?

I brushed the thought away, refusing to dwell on it further, because it didn’t matter. She belonged to me, and no marriage to her would be binding without the express permission I had no intention of granting.

Taras's upcoming wedding would be an excellent opportunity to remind the dukes of that very thing.

Especially Elk.

It was another several days before we could tell my father of my captive’s…escape.

Taisiya had been playing her part well, bringing food up at regular intervals and even calling for bath water, pretending theprincess was sleeping in her canopied bed. She laundered the dresses that were left behind, while the men on duty happily ate the extra food.

Nothing was left to chance.

I was in the sparring ring when Taras approached me. I had been busying myself training the latest recruits, not wanting to field anymore outright questions about the princess, but not willing to spend any more time in my rooms than I had to.

Especially when the cup was still there, and the comb, and all the other reminders of her I kept managing to forget to get rid of. I was a busy man, after all, I told myself, and taking care of such things was trivial in the grand scheme of things.

I could tell from my cousin’s expression why he had come, so I disarmed the soldier I was training with a single, swift motion, quickly putting an end to the training, like I could’ve done at any time since starting.

“You’re dropping your guard on your right side,” I told him, offering a hand to pull him to his feet. “Drills until sundown.”

Taras raised his eyebrows but said nothing. He knew as well as I did that a day of drills was better than death at the hands of our enemies, and we still had no way of knowing what Lochlann might do to retaliate for Rowan’s absence.

It was a matter of weeks before the pass opened, and I wondered if the word of a single princess with a dubious reputation would be enough to stop an army from gathering at the other side.

Taisiya seemed to believe that they would do their best to avoid a war, but she also admitted that the King’s Council had far more power there than the Council of Lords did here.

“Today?” I asked, handing off my practice sword to one of the trainees and leading Taras out of the ring.

My cousin nodded. “Henrick has found a…spy. He’s already in the dungeons.”

I veered in my course, heading that direction. “What was his crime?”

“He was found drunk, his wife and children beaten to death.”

My hand twitched toward the sharpened swords sheathed at my back. “Well, at least this won’t be a chore.”

It was several hours before I made my way up to my rooms, where I had sent for Taisiya to meet me. I had given her one final task this morning, the order to slip something into Ava’s tea, an herb much stronger than what she had used to drug me. She had confirmed it was something she had done more than once to keep my stepmother from Rowan.

We needed my stepmother well out of the way before we could even consider finally breaking the news to my father that our Lochlannian captive was gone. It truly was a shame we couldn’t risk killing her outright, but there was no telling who my father would blame if that were to happen. Any fragile remains of his sanity would likely snap at the loss, and that wasn’t a risk I was ready to take. Not for me, and certainly not for Bear.

Taisiya was waiting in the center of the room, her shoulders squared, like she was anticipating a final blow. She had to know her usefulness was coming to an end, that the punishment for spying was death and that I would need someone to blame for Rowan’s departure.

“Is it done?” I asked her upon entering my quarters, quietly closing the door behind me with a soft click.

“It is,” she confirmed. “She will not wake for several hours, at least.”

There was no reason to keep her alive. It was inconvenient, at best, and dangerous, at worst. I allowed that thought to echo in the space between us, watching her expression fall as she accepted her fate.

“Then you need to leave—now,” I said flatly.

Her startled eyes met mine. “...Alive?” she clarified.

I gave her a terse dip of my chin. “No sense in incensing our neighbors further.”