Defend the Dawn (Defy the Night #2)(115)

This feels like an act of war.

“No,” I say tightly. “Your Majesty.”

He ignores my contempt. “Call me Rian.”

“That’s not even your name!”

“It is, actually. A nickname from childhood. The only true lie was Blakemore—but if you prefer it, I’ve grown accustomed to it. Call me what you like.”

I snap my head up. “Oh, I’m sure you don’t want me to do that. Was any of it true?” I demand. “Or did you make up the entire spy story, too?”

“All of that was true,” he says.

I blink. “Wh-what?”

“All of it,” he says. “The entire existence of Captain Blakemore and his journey from Kandala were all true. This ship, the documentation, the ring, the son who made the journey with his father—”

“None of this makes sense!”

“It makes total sense,” Rian says. “Only … I’m not Blakemore’s son. I just borrowed his identity.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “You’re diabolical.”

“You’re acting as if I’m the criminal here,” Rian says. “When you’re the one who broke into a room I was quite clear should remain untouched.”

“You were holding that woman prisoner.”

“I was keeping her safe.”

“I feel like she would disagree.”

“This is complicated.”

“It’s not complicated. You killed Kilbourne.” Emotion tightens my throat when I say the words, and I try to swallow past it. It doesn’t work, and I have to clench my eyes closed. I wait for Rian to say that it was the cost of battle, or to brush off the death as the ends justifying the means.

But he says, “I know, Tessa.” His voice is soft and low, closer, like he’s dropped to a crouch. “And I am sorry. Truly. He seemed to be a good man.”

I don’t want to hear sorrow in his voice, but I do. I hate him for it.

“His wife was going to have a baby,” I say. I draw a shaky breath, remembering the gleam in Kilbourne’s eyes when Rocco teased him about it. He was so excited to be a father. “Kilbourne only took this assignment because they wanted a bigger—”

“Miss Tessa.”

Rocco’s voice, rough and strained, makes me snap my eyes open. I’m bound facing away from him, but as I suspected, Rian is in a crouch in front of me.

“Don’t give him that,” Rocco says.

He’s right. I clamp my mouth shut.

Rian is still offering the food. “He was a guard, Tessa. He died doing his job. The prince is alive.”

“He died because you killed him.”

For the first time, a thread of anger slips into his voice. “No one would have died if you’d followed one simple order.”

I look away from him. “This is your fault. You’re a liar and a fraud.”

“I will not take blame for this. Did you ever consider asking me about that room yourself? I might have told you.”

A chill grips my spine. That has to be a lie, too.

“Oh, but of course you wouldn’t,” Rian says, that anger in his tone growing stronger. “Because Prince Corrick convinced you that I wasn’t to be trusted, even though every decision he makes is fraught with conflict and unnecessary risk. Just look at where you are right now.”

He might as well slap me across the face.

“In truth,” Rian says, “I lied about very little. Nothing more than was necessary.”

“You lied about everything!”

“Eat the food, Tessa.”

I don’t want to take the food from his hand, and I can’t quite make myself spit at him the way I heard Bella do.

I glare at him instead. “What are you going to do to us?”

“I’m going to keep you where I can see you until we’re out of reach of those brigantines and we’re past Oren Crane’s stronghold. Then you’re all free to go wherever you like, with the exception of Prince Corrick.”

I feel the blood drain from my face. “You’re going to kill him?”

“No. People only want to kill you when you’re the king. When you’re a prince, you’re generally worth more alive. Trust me. I know the difference.”

I want to declare that Harristan will never pay a ransom for Corrick’s return, but he will. I know he will. He’d likely offer the entire kingdom for his brother.

Rian knows it, too. I can see it in his expression.

“So all this time, you were only after money,” I say, seething. “Money and power. All that disdain, and you’re no better than the consuls.”

“No!” he snaps, irritation plain on his face. “Again, I lied about very little. Ostriary is desperate for steel. I have made promises that must be fulfilled. What peace I was able to achieve is very tenuous. If I returned empty-handed, I might have lost the faith of the people, and Oren would have swept in to claim everything.”

“He’ll do it anyway,” Bella calls in a singsong voice before breaking into a fit of coughing. “I hope he hangs you from the bow. Upside down.” A cough. “Naked. Painted with honey for the gulls.”

Rian rolls his eyes. “Last chance,” he says to me, holding up the slice of fruit.