So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(44)

“Aye,” Stefan agreed, then turned to Dryden. “Do you know if any men have agreed to compete?”

“I’ve heard there are a few Eberoni noblemen who are interested. Or rather, their ambitious fathers are interested.” Dryden took a drink of ale. “But I’m surprised Gunther is inviting foreigners to compete.”

“I’m not,” Ansel muttered. “The greedy bastard gets three hundred gold coins from everyone who enters. He’s probably hoping for a hundred contestants.”

Dryden shrugged. “Even so, I doubt Gunther would let a foreigner win. Most people are saying the whole thing is rigged, that Gunther has three men he favors: his top general, the admiral of the Tourinian navy, and the captain of his personal guard. They say the contest is just to see which of those three men is the strongest, since Gunther wants a strong male heir.”

A strong brute forcing himself on Brigitta. “Holy crap,” Rupert growled.

Ansel gave him a pointed look. “If you don’t like it, why don’t you compete?”

Stefan scoffed and jabbed a finger at the paper. “Did you read the fine print at the bottom of this thing?”

“What?” Ansel leaned over, squinting his eyes as he read, “‘Only two contestants will survive the competition, for at the end of each round, the contestant with the lowest score will be put to death.’ Shit!” He sat back.

“Aye.” Stefan nodded. “That’s why Gunther opened the competition to foreign noblemen. He gets to kill them.”

“Bastard.” Ansel downed his goblet and slammed it on the table.

“We can’t send her back,” Rupert announced.

Stefan scoffed. “If we don’t send her back, we don’t get the ransom.”

“Screw the ransom!” Rupert growled. “We captured her so we could upset whatever plans Gunther had, and we have accomplished that. If he never gets her back, he can never have an heir from his bloodline. The House of Grian will die! That’s worth more to me than any ransom.”

Dryden’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you want the House of Grian to die?”

Ansel shot Rupert a pointed look that told him to shut the hell up.

“Here. For your expenses.” Stefan handed Dryden a small bag of gold. “We need you to go back to Ebton now, so you can keep us informed.”

“Sure.” Dryden stood as he pocketed the gold.

“Wait.” Rupert rushed over to the desk and wrote a quick note to inform Queen Luciana that her sister Brigitta was safe, and he would do his best to protect her. “Here. Deliver this to Ebton Palace. And thank you.”

“Just doing my job.” Dryden plopped his hat back on his head and pocketed the note. “See you later.” He left the room, and Rupert listened to the clump-scrape of his walk down the hall.

“You wrote to the king of Eberon?” Ansel asked.

Rupert shook his head. “The queen. She’s Brigitta’s sister and about to give birth. Brigitta didn’t want her to be worried.”

Stefan exchanged a look with Ansel, then asked, “How did you know about that?”

Rupert shrugged. “She told me. Last night.” He peered out the door to make sure the hallway was empty.

“Come sit down,” Ansel said.

Rupert locked the door, then took his seat. The other two men were watching him closely. “I know what you’re thinking. I said too much in front of Dryden. I need to be more careful.”

“You’ve always been careful.” Ansel refilled his goblet. “But today you’re different. A lot more emotional.”

With a snort, Rupert tossed his hat on the table and pushed back his mask. “I’ve always hated Gunther with a passion. And the House of Grian. That’s nothing new.”

“Yes, but Brigitta is from the House of Grian,” Stefan said, “and you seem very protective of her.”

Rupert shrugged. “I hate to see anyone being used by Gunther.”

Stefan sipped some ale. “Perhaps you feel protective because she’s betrothed to you.”

Rupert snorted. “Given the circumstances, I think we can safely say the engagement was called off.”

Ansel tapped a finger on the announcement. “This whole competition has been designed for the purpose of getting the princess pregnant, so Gunther can have an heir.”

Rupert gritted his teeth. “That’s what I said before. The bastard is using her as a broodmare.”

Ansel nodded. “And since we like upsetting Gunther’s plans, why don’t you beat him to the punch?” He leaned forward. “Seduce the girl and get her pregnant.”

Rupert flinched. “What—no!”

“It seems obvious that you’re attracted to her,” Stefan said.

“What?” Rupert scoffed. “Where the hell did you come up—”

“You look ready to commit murder whenever we talk about her bedding someone else,” Stefan explained.

“That’s ridic—”

“Is the task too hard for you, lad?” Ansel interrupted him, then gave his cousin a smirk. “I thought he was made of sterner stuff.”

Stefan grinned. “Nothing but an old windbag.”

“Enough!” Rupert rose to his feet and glared at the two men. “I will not abuse her. Nor will I have you talking about her as if she’s nothing more than a pawn or a walking womb. She deserves better than that.”