Ash Princess (Ash Princess Trilogy #1)(94)

I am rage and hurt and hatred, but I force that aside and give him a small, tentative smile, as if I’m glad to see him, before forcing my eyes away in case anyone else is watching.

“Ash Princess,” the Kaiser bellows from his place at the head of the table, eyes suddenly heavy on me, oozing over the many inches of skin left exposed in the gaudy crimson dress.

He means to humiliate me, to put me on display like a stolen jewel, but for the first time I don’t mind it. I can see the fury etched into the lines of S?ren’s face as he takes me in. The Kaiser is unwittingly doing my job for me—it won’t be at all difficult to push S?ren over the edge tonight. The real challenge will be keeping my anger toward both of them in check.

“Your Highness,” I say, approaching the Kaiser and curtsying at his feet. His face is already a drunken shade of vermilion. As he always does, he tilts my chin up and places the palm of his hand against my cheek in order to leave his handprint in the ash that’s already sprinkled down over my face. I keep my gaze lowered, but out of the corner of my eye I see S?ren go rigid, eyes locked onto his father in cold rage.

“You’ll sit at my side tonight,” the Kaiser says when I rise, gesturing to the chair to his left. The one that used to belong to the Kaiserin. He takes a long swig from his jeweled goblet before setting it back on the table. There are drops of red wine in his beard; they look like specks of blood.

“I would be honored, Your Highness,” I say.

Though it’s nothing I wasn’t expecting, dread still pools in the pit of my stomach as I take the seat, only inches away from the Kaiser and directly across from S?ren. Though I know it’s good that they’re both staring at me, that it means the plan is working, it still takes every inch of effort not to shrink away.

“You look quite pretty tonight, Ash Princess,” the Kaiser says, leering at me before turning his attention to his son and grinning. “Doesn’t she look pretty, S?ren?” he asks.

He’s taunting him, I realize. The attention S?ren’s been paying me hasn’t gone unnoticed by the Kaiser after all, but instead of angering him, it only seems to make him gleeful.

To his credit, S?ren manages a nonchalant shrug, though he studiously avoids looking at me. He mutters something under his breath while staring down at the plate in front of him.

The Kaiser lifts his goblet for another long gulp before slamming it back down, making S?ren and me jump, and startling all the courtiers at the table into silence. They try to pretend they aren’t listening in, but of course they are.

“I don’t think I heard that, S?ren,” the Kaiser says. “I asked you a question and I expect a proper answer.”

S?ren flinches from the Kaiser’s voice and his eyes finally rise to meet mine, full of pain and apology.

“I said she looks beautiful, Father,” he says, but each word is sharp as a knife.

The Kaiser frowns at his son’s tone, like he’s been presented with a puzzle he’s never seen before. His mouth twists and he takes another gulp from his goblet. His eyes are unfocused as they turn back to me.

“I don’t believe you thanked me, Ash Princess,” he says. “Don’t you like the dress I sent you?”

I want to stare the Kaiser down and spit at him. But I am not Queen Theodosia right now, I am Lady Thora, and so instead, I bite my bottom lip and fidget uncomfortably, tugging at the low neckline.

“Of course I do, Your Highness,” I say, my voice shaking around each word. “I’m so grateful for it. It’s lovely.”

He smiles like a wolf closing in on its prey, and my heart hammers quicker in my chest, my palms sweat. People farther down the table resume their conversations, but across from me, S?ren’s gripping his dinner knife so tightly that his knuckles have turned white. The Kaiser’s hand comes down to rest on my bare knee, exposed by the slit in the dress.

“Good girl,” he says, low enough for only me to hear.

It takes everything I have not to recoil from him, but I manage, staring at the table in front of me instead.

I will burn your body to ash, I say in my mind. I imagine it, the torch in my hand, his body lying on top of a heap of hay. I will lower the torch and he will burn and I will smile and maybe then I will finally feel safe again.

“That’s enough.”

S?ren’s voice is so quiet I barely hear him above the music and the hum of conversation. The Kaiser hears him clearly, though, posture going stiff and his grip on my leg tightening painfully until I wince. For an impossibly long moment, he stares at S?ren silently, eyes cold and hard. But S?ren, to his credit, matches his stare until the other courtiers at the banquet table give up the pretense of not eavesdropping. The room is so quiet I can hear my heart thundering in my chest.

“What was that, S?ren?” the Kaiser says, and though his tone is polite there is an undercurrent of broken glass and snake venom. I’m sure his words are heard in every corner of the room.

The lump in S?ren’s throat bobs, but he doesn’t shrink away like I half expect him to. His eyes flicker to me for an instant before glancing out at the other courtiers watching. I can see the gears in his mind turning as he takes them in, sees the situation from their perspective. S?ren doesn’t understand how court works, but he knows battle and he knows that’s what he’s stepped into. He knows that his options now are to surrender or declare war. He knows to declare war over me would be to sign my execution warrant. He knows to surrender would do the same, more or less.