Page 165 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

Reina had refused, and Berian couldn’t deny her because she was running more than half the kingdom in the shadows. I hadn’t known then that they were after her too. She’d never let on that anything was amiss other than normal politics.

“I’m certain he will be,” I said carefully. “I’ll pass along your compliments to the lady.”

He studied me for a moment too long. He had his father’s eyes—that same quality of looking at a person and seeing an asset first, a human being somewhere much further down the list. Then something behind his eyes shifted toward covetous, and I had to stop myself from pulling my magic to the ready.

“Yes. Well,” he said rather curtly. “Good evening, Prince Regent.”

Double fuck. Reina’s worry that I looked like I wanted to fight had already borne rotten fruit. He’d sensed the rise and repression of magic in my body.

The court was meant to believe Lunette and I were romantically involved. It was the only way to make every ambitious lord realize that placing Lunette beside Berian would carry complications. But Vaustin Maeron was not the court. He was an enemy.

There was a difference between giving the Tir a story and handing the Assembly the blade they could press to my throat. They could believe Lunette mattered to me. But they couldn’t be allowed to understand just how completely.

If it came to a fight, Vaustin would be trouble. He could take away my powers, and he had some of the best magical training in the entire world. But he would be fighting for something he wanted. While I would be fighting for everything I had.

That made a difference.

He bowed and walked away with far too much self-assurance. Nothing about his departure signaled the retreat I would’ve preferred. He’d found exactly what he’d come looking for. That was the only reason men like Vaustin Maeron ever left graciously.

What he’d found was written all over my face. Every second I’d failed to look indifferent. Every careful non-answer. I’d handed him a map and marked the most vulnerable spot with an oversized circle.

He’d walked away smiling.

She wasn’t safe. She wouldn’t be safe until she was untouchable. Until she was mine in every way that the laws of every kingdom recognized.

I had to make her mine, have her in my bed with my name on her lips, and a title attached to her name. I had to marry her. Soon.

But I had to convince her of that first. In hindsight, proposing to her the way I had was incredibly foolish. Not only did it sound flippant—even though I’d meant it—but she’d only just begun to open back up to me, and I’d basically thrown myself at her.

I didn’t think I could survive another rejection. And I still had no idea how I was going to protect my brother.

My temper was worn down to a single thread by the time I arrived at Berian’s chambers. On my approach, the guards snapped to attention and stepped aside without a word.

Berian’s rooms were quieter with the chaos scrubbed away. The air still held the sharp scent of medicinal herbs, but the fire’s warmth was pleasant not oppressive.

Reina’s handpicked healer briefly greeted me then shuffled out of the room with a polite goodbye. I crossed to the bed.

Berian was curled on his side under a mountain of fur, his face still drawn and pale, shadows bruised deep beneath his eyes. He looked older than he had only yesterday.

His eyes opened as I approached. He turned his head slightly.

“Shadow,” he said weakly.

I pulled a chair to the bedside and sat down. “You look terrible.”

His expression hardened. “You let it happen.”

For a split second, the old reflex to self-recriminate surged up. It began with you failed, continued with you’re not enough, and ended with you’re the problem. All of it, every single word, was a road paved by my own flesh and blood.

I crushed the reflex.

“No,” I said evenly. “I didn’t.”

A faint huff of something that might’ve been a laugh escaped Berian.

“Did you know they weren’t removing any corruption from you?” I asked, my voice coming out more measured than I felt. “That they were draining your magic. Not the Fae blood you share with me through our father.”

He frowned faintly, unable to accept that he might’ve been wrong.