The Bridge Kingdom (The Bridge Kingdom #1)(98)

“What about Ahnna?”

Aren snorted. “She isn’t stupid enough for such stunts.”

There was an edge to his voice that caused Lara to set her glass of juice down on the table with a loud clink. “You need to apologize to your sister for what you said. It was uncalled for.”

Aren turned away, shoving a book back on the shelf and draining his own drink. “She almost got you killed.”

“It was an accident. And lest you weren’t paying attention, she was also the one to save both our asses.”

“Noted.”

“Aren.”

He refilled his drink. “I’ve said worse to her, and she to me. She’ll get over it.”

Lara chewed the insides of her cheeks, understanding that it was not reluctance to apologize, but rather the knowledge that he’d be asked to justify his actions as pertained to her. “There is a substantial difference between cruel words exchanged between siblings and threats uttered by a king to the commander of his armies.”

He gave her a belabored sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll apologize when I see her next.”

“Which will be when?”

“God, but you are persistent.”

Lara gave him her sweetest smile.

“The council meeting before the beginning of War Tides when we discuss our strategy. Ahnna represents Southwatch, so she has to be there.”

Her mouth opened to ask where precisely the meeting would take place, but then she shut it again. These past days Lara had been careful not to pry into any details a spy might be interested in, cautious of giving Aren any reason to doubt her loyalty. Part of her wondered if that would ever change, or if her past would always tarnish their relationship.

“Why don’t you ever talk about your sisters?”

Her sisters. Lara closed her eyes, fighting the unexpected burn of tears. It was a conscious effort on her part to think of them as little as possible. In part, it was to avoid the pain in her chest that came with remembrance, the gut-wrenching sense of loss that came every time she realized that she’d likely never see them again. The other part was her fear that if she kept them too close to mind, she might accidentally reveal they were still alive, and that information might get back to her father. And for their sakes, she couldn’t even trust Aren with the truth, for if he ever found cause to turn on her, he might do so by turning on them. “They’re dead.”

The glass slipped from his hand to smash against the floor. “You aren’t serious?”

Lara dropped to her knees to pick up the fragments. “Everyone who knew about my father’s plot was killed, with the exception of Serin.”

“All of them? Are you sure?”

“I left them facedown on the dinner table, surrounded by flames.” She remembered the feel of Marylyn’s golden blond hair beneath her fingers as she had moved her sister’s head out of the soup bowl. The way she, her father, and all of their party had ridden away from the compound, her sisters abandoned to luck and their own wits. A bit of glass pricked her finger and she hissed, sucking the blood from the wound before returning to the task.

Aren’s hands closed over hers. “Leave it, love. Someone else will clean it up.”

“I don’t want Eli doing it.” She picked up another fragment of glass. “He tries to do everything too quickly, and he’s sure to cut himself.”

“Then I’ll do it myself.”

The shards of glass fell from her hands, and she watched how the bits of amber liquid on them caught the light. There was still so much she hadn’t told him.

“My childhood was ugly. They tried to turn us into monsters. It might be that they succeeded.”

The only sound was the rain outside.

“That day of the attack on Serrith Island . . . There were a dozen or so dead Amaridians on the path leading up from the cove.”

“I killed them, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“All of them?”

“Yes. You were outnumbered, and your death wasn’t . . . It wasn’t part of my plan.”

He exhaled a long breath, then repeated, “Wasn’t part of your plan.”

Though Aren knew the truth and had forgiven her for it, part of Lara still feared that he’d change his mind. That these past few days were nothing but a trick: a way to show her what might have been if she’d come to this marriage without betrayal in her heart.

He drew Lara to her feet. “No one can know. About any of it. Too many of my people were against this union to begin with. If they learned you were a spy—and a trained assassin—sent to infiltrate our defenses, they’d never forgive it. They’d demand your execution, and if I didn’t agree to it . . .”

Lara felt the blood drain from her face. Not because of the threat to her life, but because of the threat to his. “Is it better for you if I go? We can fake my death, and all the troubles my being here present will be solved.”

Aren didn’t respond, and when she finally found the nerve to lift her head, it was to find him staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused. Then he shook his head sharply. “I swore a vow to you, and I intend to keep it.”

Lara’s chest tightened. “My father will send assassins for me. Anyone close to me will be in danger.”

“Not if they don’t know where you are.”