I wish I could order Grey to throw a knife at him. This is so much more complicated than when we faced the soldiers in the inn. I raise an eyebrow. “Why would you kill our guard if your interest in negotiation were genuine?”

“Who says I killed your guard?”

When Rhen speaks, his voice is low and lethal. “I would like an answer to the princess’s question.”

The Seneschal leans forward. “If your man was a true member of the Royal Guard, he would not have fallen so easily.” He coughs and his body shakes. “I suspect you are not being wholly honest, Your Highness.”

“I suspect you are not,” says Rhen.

“Your father would not have needed my men,” says the Grand Marshal.

“Did you have my guardsman killed?”

“What difference does it make?” The Seneschal laughs. “What will you do?”

“Execute you both for treason,” says Rhen.

“You and what army?” He slaps the table.

His hand has barely struck the wood surface before Grey’s sword is level with his throat. The man’s laughter cuts short. He strains back in his chair. A spot of red appears on his neck.

“I need no army to deal with you,” says Rhen.

One of the guards begins to draw his sword. Zo’s arrow is flying before I can even issue an order. The shaft drives right through the man’s wrist. He screams.

Another guard draws his sword. Zo has another arrow nocked, but Rhen snaps, “Hold.”

She holds. Her breathing is a loud rush beside me.

The other guards go still, too. Tension rides a knife’s edge in this room. Everyone has weapons drawn now, but no one else has engaged.

Noise echoes in the hallway behind me, and Zo all but pushes me to the side. Her arrow is pointed, but it’s our guard Dustan—and he’s dragging a bound Nim back down the hallway. “Mave is dead,” he says breathlessly. “This one did it. He nearly got me.”

Rhen steps back. “This was an ambush. Kill them both.”

“No!” cries the Grand Marshal. He slides out of his chair and falls to his knees. “We didn’t ambush you. I swear it. I admit suspicion—but I have always been loyal to the crown.”

“You killed a guard,” I snap. “What else would you call it?”

“I swear it!” His voice has grown in pitch. “I swear!”

The Seneschal coughs again. “Have some pride, man.” Then he spits at Rhen.

“Commander.” Rhen’s eyes shift to Grey.

“No,” says the Grand Marshal. His forehead touches the ground. “Please. I swear. This was not treason.”

“Wait,” I say. I look at the guard Dustan has pinned against the wall in the hallway. “Nim, who gave the order to kill our guard?”

He says nothing.

Dustan punches him between the shoulder blades. The man coughs and drops to a knee. “I serve the Seneschal.”

“I had him killed,” the Seneschal says.

“Why?” demands Rhen.

“To show your weakness.” He winces and gasps as Grey’s sword finds his skin again. “To bargain a higher price for skilled soldiers.”

Rhen steps forward and grabs the collar of the Grand Marshal’s jacket. He jerks the man to his knees and his voice is tight and unyielding. “So you sought to trick the crown out of silver?”

“No, Your Highness. He acted alone.” His voice is almost stammering. “I swear—I swear my loyalty to the crown. I would offer all I have.”

Rhen looks at the Seneschal. “Is this true? You acted alone?”

“I didn’t need help to outwit you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Rhen’s jaw tightens. He looks down at the bearded man whose collar is still clutched in his grip. “Grand Marshal, I will pay your men a fair price for their services. I would like a full accounting of the taxes your people have been ordered to pay—and if I see that they’ve been charged one penny more than necessary, they will be reimbursed from your own coffers.”

“Yes—yes, Your Highness.” He winces. “Please—have mercy on my Seneschal—he has a family. You have been gone so long—forgive him—”

Rhen looks at Grey. “Fall back.”

Grey lowers his weapon. The Seneschal puts a hand to his neck. His breathing still shakes, but then he chokes out a rusty laugh. “You’ll never stand against Karis Luran. You could barely stand against this room.” He coughs. “I hope the creature returns to the castle and slaughters you all.”

“You took a man’s life for your own selfishness and greed. You sought to undermine me and my personal guard. All by your own admission.” He leans forward. “That, sir, is treason.”

“I won’t be the last.”

“Surely not, but you’ll be an example for those who seek the same.” Rhen steps back. “Kill him, Commander. Leave the body.”

I inhale—whether to scream or protest or something else entirely—but it’s too late. The man’s throat is cut. He slumps in his chair. Blood flows.

Beside me, Zo’s breath is every bit as quick as my own. My hands are over my mouth.

Then Rhen is in front of me. His eyes are hard and his voice is steel edged. He glances at Zo. “Nice shot.”

She swallows. “Thank you—thank you, Your Highness.”

His eyes shift back to me. “My lady.”

I’m staring at him over my hands. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.

An emotion flickers in his eyes, almost too quick for me to catch it—but I do. It’s not the harsh censure I expect. It’s resignation. Defeat. Sorrow.

Fear.

He must see the responding pity in my eyes, because he glances away. His expression is walled off. He sighs. “Come, Princess. I’ll see you to your horse.”

We ride back to Ironrose in silence, Rhen by my side, with Zo, Dustan, and Grey trailing behind. The remaining guards have been left to ensure the Grand Marshal follows orders. Tension makes the falling snow feel like daggers, and cold air snakes between us, reminding me of the night on the cliff at Silvermoon. The night we nearly kissed.

The night everything fell apart.

“Would you say something?” I say quietly. “Please?”

“You do not wish my conversation now, my lady, I assure you.” His voice is tight with fury, and his horse tosses its head, fighting his grip on the reins.

“I’ll take anything over days of silence.”

“You should not have come tonight.”

“Maybe something is lost in translation, because that sure doesn’t sound like thank you.”

“You expect my thanks?” His head snaps around. “You did not know of his plot. What if assassins had waited in the halls? What if your guard were a lesser shot? What if they were working together? We were badly outnumbered. They could have slaughtered every one of us.”

I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing. He’s right on all counts.

“What you did was reckless and foolish,” Rhen says.

I turn my head and glare at him. “I saved you.”

“The man’s plot would have come to light. Grey could have stopped him.” He takes a breath. “Now a man is dead by my order. Once again, I bring nothing to my people but death and suffering.”

For an instant, I sense that resignation I caught a glimpse of earlier. I reach out to touch his hand.

He snatches it away, tense now, his eyes fixed ahead. “You are lucky it was not your body I found in the courtyard.”

“I brought Zo.”

“You are so very reckless. Just like in the arena. You act without thought.”

“I acted in the arena to protect you.”

His jaw is tight. I’ve never seen him so angry. It’s triggering my own anger. I meant what I said—I’ll take anger over endless silence.

I think of his flash of emotion in the hallway at the Grand Marshal’s home. I force myself to take a breath.

“Please tell me what’s happening.” My words are so quiet, pressed into this tiny bit of space we occupy, as if even the night wants to keep this moment private. “I know it’s Lilith. It has to be Lilith. You made an alliance with me. Keep it. Tell me what’s going on.”

He inhales. I watch his broad chest expand. His eyes flash with anger, a sure prelude to more fury. But then his breath hitches and he kind of … deflates.

We ride in silence. It’s like all the fight has gone out of him.

“Rhen,” I whisper.

“I will release you from our bargain,” he says softly. “I no longer have anything to offer.”

I turn and look over my shoulder at the guards. “Fall back,” I say. “Please.”

Grey meets my eyes, then gives me a nod. They drop back a dozen yards.

“I don’t want you to release me,” I say. “I want to know what’s going on.”

He doesn’t answer. He says nothing. We ride for miles.

Finally, he says, “I feel trapped, my lady.” His voice is so quiet. “I swore a bargain with you, but I find I cannot invite you into her presence again.”

I inhale to speak, but then he looks over at me.