The Bridge Kingdom (The Bridge Kingdom, #1)(102)

With much cajoling and prodding, the Ithicanian children had convinced Lara to wade into the cavern harbor, teaching her to float and to paddle about, but she was out in a flash if a fish bumped her and she refused to put her head under the surface. The few times someone had been brave—or foolish—enough to dunk her had been the only times Aren had seen her lose her temper at the children, screaming bloody murder. Then she’d stormed half naked and dripping back to the palace, where she refused to speak to anyone, including him, for the balance of the day, only to go right back into the water with them during the next storm break.

Coming to Eranahl had changed his wife. It hadn’t softened her, exactly, for she still had the wickedest temper of anyone he’d ever met, but it seemed to Aren that being here had pulled her out of her shell. Out of the fortress she’d constructed to protect herself. She was happier. Brighter. Content.

Except every storm season came to an end, and this one would be no different.

Heaving in a sigh, Aren eyed the sky, the rain pattering gently against his skin. There was only the faintest breeze, the squall barely deserving the name, and he suspected it would only be a matter of days before Nana ruled the season over. Which is why his war council had convened.

For the last hour, Watch Commanders had been arriving by boat: battle-hardened men and women who had seen the worst their enemies had to offer, and had dealt worse in return. Each of the nine, including him at Midwatch, was responsible for the defense of certain portions of the bridge and the islands flanking it, and all of them had arrived ready to discuss what the season would bring. Save one.

Ahnna was late.

Stepping into the shelter of Eranahl’s cavern harbor, Aren sat on the steps to wait, annoyed at the anxiety building in his gut. This would be the first time he’d seen his twin since Lara’s fall from the bridge. First time they’d spoken since he’d threatened to ship her off to Harendell. Ahnna had been adamantly against Lara being anything more than a glorified prisoner kept at Midwatch, and he couldn’t help but wonder how she would react to Lara being in the heart of Ithicana.

The gates began their slow rattle upward, startling Aren from his thoughts. One of the Southwatch boats drifted around the bend, and he squinted into the dim light, trying to make out his twin. Ahnna sat at the stern, rudder in hand, expression unreadable.

The boat bumped against the stone steps, one of the soldiers hopping out and mooring it while the others unloaded supplies. Ahnna flipped her pack over her shoulder, calling to her crew to enjoy their few hours of liberty before taking the steps two at the time.

“Your Majesty,” she said, and his heart sank. “I apologize for being late. With the state of relations between the southern kingdoms, Southwatch requires my full attention.”

“It’s fine.” He tried to come to terms with the wedge between them that might never be removed. “We’ve time.”

Ahnna’s eyes turned skyward, then she shook her head. “I’m not sure that we do.”





The palace was silent as he and Ahnna entered, everyone who wasn’t needed having vacated the premises and those who were needed busy with their tasks. It made for a strange quality of sound, as though the absence of people changed the building, causing footsteps to echo and voices to carry.

Not that either of them felt inclined to speak.

Turning down the hall, Aren caught sight of Lara sitting on a padded bench outside the council chambers, shoulders squared, eyes fixed on the solid doors. She wore a silken gown of blues and greens, her hair braided into a coronet that revealed the long column of her neck. High-heeled sandals, the leather inlaid with lapis lazuli, were strapped to her feet, and from here, he could see her cheeks and brow bones shone with golden dust.

“I see she hasn’t given up her expensive tastes,” Ahnna muttered.

Lara hadn’t, and Aren indulged her, but not for the reasons his sister thought. Lara would’ve forgone the luxuries, would’ve blended in with his people to the point they forgot she hadn’t been born among them, but both of them understood the importance of the people remembering she was Maridrinian. Of them coming to love her as a Maridrinian, which they had.

Lara rose at their approach, and as she turned to face them, Aren heard the soft catch of Ahnna’s breath. She was staring at the jewels around Lara’s neck, the emerald and black diamond necklace that had been their mother’s. “How could you?” Her words came out as a hiss between her teeth. “Of all the things you could have given her, why that?”

“Because Lara is queen. And because I love her.”

A thousand retorts flashed through his sister’s eyes, but she said none of them. Only bowed to Lara. “I’m glad to see you well, Your Grace.” Then she extracted the key marking her as a Watch Commander, unlocked the council chamber, and went inside.

“I told you it would be a mistake not to talk to her sooner.” Lara rested her hands on her hips, giving him a slow shake of her perfect head. “You slap her in the face with everything she doesn’t want to see and then expect her to grit her teeth and bear it.”

Closing the distance between them, Aren pulled Lara against him, her arms slipping around his neck. “Why are you always right?” he asked, closing his eyes and kissing her throat.

“I’m not. It’s only that you are so often wrong.”