The Bridge Kingdom (The Bridge Kingdom #1)(10)



His twin sister’s face appeared in his line of sight, her expression amused. “Nana has examined her. Says she’s shockingly fit, most certainly healthy, and, barring tragedy, likely to live a goodly long while.”

Aren blinked once.

“Disappointed?” Ahnna asked.

Rolling onto one elbow, Aren sat upright on the bench. “Contrary to the opinions of our neighboring kingdoms, I’m not actually so depraved as to wish death upon an innocent girl.”

“Are you so sure she’s innocent?”

“Are you arguing that she’s not?”

Ahnna scrunched up her face, then shook her head. “In true Maridrinian fashion, they’ve given you a beautiful and sheltered shrinking violet. Good to look at and not much else.”

Remembering how the young woman had shaken as she’d walked up the pier, holding tightly to her father’s arm, her enormous blue eyes filled with terror, Aren was inclined to agree with his sister’s assessment. Yet even so, he fully intended to keep Lara isolated until he could get a grasp on her true nature. And learn exactly where her loyalties lay.

“Have our spies learned anything more about her?”

Ahnna shook her head. “Nothing. He appears to have kept her hidden away in the desert, and until she rode out of the red sands, not even the Maridrinians knew her name.”

“Why all the secrecy?”

“They say it was for her protection. Not everyone is pleased about our alliance with Maridrina, Valcotta most of all.”

Aren frowned, dissatisfied with the answer, though he could not say why. Maridrina and Valcotta were continually at war over the fertile stretch of land running down the western coast of the southern continent, the border contested by both kingdoms. It was possible the Valcottan Empress might have attempted to disrupt the alliance by assassinating the princess, but he thought it unlikely. For one, Silas Veliant had more daughters than he knew what to do with, and the treaty had not been specific about which girl would be sent. Two, every kingdom north and south knew that Aren’s marriage to a Maridrinian princess was nothing more than a symbolic act, all parties involved more interested in the trade terms underpinning the agreement and the peace they purchased. The treaty would have endured even if the princess had not.

But third, and what troubled him most of all, was that it wasn’t Maridrinian nature to hide from anyone. If anything, Silas would have relished the assassination of a daughter or two because it would renew the flagging support of his people for the war against Valcotta.

“She awake yet?”

“No. I came down as soon as Nana deemed her a fit and healthy wife for you, because I wanted to be the one to share the wonderful news.”

His twin’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and Aren shot her a warning look. “Lara is your queen now. Perhaps try showing her a little respect.”

Ahnna responded by flipping him her middle finger. “What are you going to do with Queen Lara?”

“With tits like that, I’d suggest bedding her,” a gravelly voice interjected.

Aren turned to glare at Jor, the captain of his honor guard, who sat on the far side of the fire pit. “Thank you for the suggestion.”

“What were they thinking, dressing her in silk in the pouring rain? Might as well have paraded her naked in front of us all.”

Aren had, in fact, noticed. Even bedraggled by the rain, she’d been stunning, her form curved, her exquisite face framed by hair the color of honey. Not that he’d expected anything else. Despite being past his prime, the King of Maridrina remained a vital man, and it was known he chose the majority of his wives for beauty and nothing else.

The thought of the other king made Aren’s stomach sour. He recalled the smug expression on the Silas’s face as he handed his precious daughter over.

It was an expression the Rat King was entitled to.

While Ithicana was now bound to new and undesirable trade terms, all the King of Maridrina had given up was one of his innumerable children and a promise to continue the peace that had stood between the two kingdoms for the past fifteen years. And not for the first time, Aren cursed his parents for making his marriage to Maridrina part of the agreement.

“A piece of paper with three signatures will do little to unite our kingdoms,” his mother had always replied when he complained. “Your marriage will be the first step toward creating a true alliance between peoples. You will lead by example and, in doing so, you will ensure Ithicana does more than just survive by the skin of its teeth. And if that means nothing to you, then remember that your father gave his word on my behalf.”

And an Ithicanian always kept his word. Which was why, on the fifteenth anniversary of the agreement, despite his parents being a year dead, Aren had sent word to Maridrina to bring their princess to be wed.

“Can’t argue that she’s easy on the eyes. I can only hope I’ll be so lucky.” Though Ahnna’s voice was light, Aren didn’t miss how her hazel eyes turned dull at the mention of her half of the bargain. The King of Harendell, their neighbor to the north, had yet to send for his son’s Ithicanian bride, but with Aren now wed to Lara, it was only a matter of time. Harendell would know by now the terms Maridrina had negotiated, and they’d be keen to extract their own pound of flesh. Both deals would incite retaliation from Amarid. The other northern kingdom’s relationship with Ithicana was already fraught with conflict, given that their merchant ships competed for business with the bridge.

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