Scarlet Princess: An Enemies-to-Lovers Fantasy Romance (The Lochlann Feuds Book 1)

Scarlet Princess: Chapter 43



As much as I had been dreading another night of being manhandled and watching Theo dance with other women, Mila’s presence made the evening almost bearable with a running commentary on all the clan dukes.

“Oh, it’s definitely not real.” She giggled into her cup of medovukha. “One year, Sir Danil shows up bald as an egg, and the next he’s sporting a full head of what I’m fairly certain is boar’s hair.” She pointed at the duke of Crane.

“It’s a real shame he’s taken,” I said, laughing into my own glass.

“What about you? Are you taken?” Mila wiggled her eyebrows at me.

I feigned a blush. “Why, yes. I have an entire Summit of Socairan dukes vying over me and my future as we speak. If only they weren’t also planning my untimely demise.”

Mila waved a hand dismissively. “They won’t kill you. Our people can be brutal, but rarely have they ever sentenced a woman to death.”

For the first time since I woke up in the dungeons, a real spark of hope ran through me, and I tried to stamp it out.

“I don’t know, Mila. They are pretty convincing…”

“My father thinks they just want to scare you. I’m sure they’ll ransom you back home. At least, that’s what he’s pushing for.” She smiled reassuringly at me.

It was too much to hope for, really.

“Back to more important matters,” I said, shaking off the feeling. “Are you taken? Or has someone here caught your eye?”

She sighed, her full lips going into a pout. “My father is more lenient than most, but yes. I’ll have to marry fairly soon. Probably within my clan, since he wants to remain isolated, which is probably for the best, considering the alternatives.”

She cast a glance around the room, barely suppressing a shudder. “The only people with high enough ranking to consider switching clans for are dukes and their heirs. Which, aside from Sir Mikhail, the old pervert in Ram, leaves only Bear and Elk.”

My stomach gave a flip at hearing her casually refer to marrying Theo, but I forced it to calm down.

“And you don’t want that?”

She leveled a look at me. “I would actually rather die than marry into Clan Bear. My father says they used to be upstanding enough, but since the war, they’re…barbarians. No one is safe in their territory, with random raids to slaughter the villagers they deem ‘disobedient,’ and they attack the other clans at will. They’ve only managed the alliances they have because everyone is terrified of them.

“And Evander…don’t let that pretty face fool you. He’s the worst one.” She trailed off, her face losing a shade of color.

Looking at the dark-haired lord now, dancing with a bored expression in his cruel gray eyes, I didn’t find that hard to believe.

“And…Theodore?” I forced myself to ask.

“Theodore is nice enough, but he’s been in talks with Ram forever.” She pointed to the woman Theo had been dancing with yesterday. The one who was in his arms at this very moment. “Galina is Mikhail’s niece, and she doesn’t speak to me because we refused to side with her clan in…”

But I missed the rest of whatever she was going to say. I fiddled with the bracelet he had given me, turning over the lotus charm in my fingers as my heart dropped into my stomach. My voice was sharper than I meant for it to be when I spoke.

“Marriage talks?”

Mila snapped her gaze to mine, something between wariness and apology on her perfect features. She opened her mouth to respond, but we were both cut off by a rather pompous throat clearing.

Lord Evander stood a respectful foot away, extending his hand. “Would you do me the honor of this dance, Princess?” He smirked around the word honor, like this was anything but.

“I find I’m quite tired this evening—” I began, but Iiro appeared from out of nowhere.

“Nonsense, Princess Rowan. Weren’t you just saying how much you looked forward to amicably accommodating your dance partners this evening?”

Why it should matter if I was polite to a clan that was their enemy was beyond me. I sighed.

“Ah yes. I just uttered that very thing to Lady Mila.” Sarcasm crept into my tone. “Though, I could never hope to be quite as amicable with my dance partner as Lord Theodore has apparently been with his.” I added the last bit under my breath, and Mila laughed.

Iiro’s mouth flattened into a tight line, and I raised my eyebrows in a small challenge.

The answering warning in his eyes reminded me of everything that was at stake, though, both my life and Davin’s. So I spread my lips into a thin veneer of a smile, handing Mila my glass and giving Evander my hand without looking at him.

“You seem especially cantankerous today,” the arseling commented as soon as we were on the floor.

Once again, in sharp contrast to the other lords, his hands were barely grazing my waist, the subtle pressure of his fingers my only cue of where he was leading.

“Whereas most people in a farce of a trial for their lives would be celebrating?” My tone was caustic, but I didn’t care.

Evander’s vote was shot anyway, and from what Mila said, he would scare others into submission. I scowled and turned away, my eyes landing on Galina’s shiny locks swaying as Theo twirled her.

The lord followed my gaze, scoffing quietly. “Yes, it certainly seems to be the Summit that is the problem. Has the congenial Lord Theodore actually managed to upset someone?” He said congenial like it was a bad thing.

My eyes whipped back to meet his. On the surface, he was attractive enough, with his black wavy locks, stormy eyes, and full lips that were always tilted in amusement at some cruel joke only he understood.

But he had no warmth. No compassion.

I tried to school my expression, but my tone had no such restraints. “Do you think Lord Theodore is soft because he doesn’t venture into villages to wantonly murder his own people?”

Evander’s gaze darkened. “Order must be maintained, and sometimes that means making a difficult judgment call. Don’t worry, Princess. No one here expects you to understand that.”

My lips parted in fury, and I nearly stumbled when he turned me in time with the dance.

“And why not?” I asked through gritted teeth when we were together again.

“Because you’re a woman.” He shrugged. “And because you’ve lived a life of unimaginable privilege. Hell, you were so bored, you had to go and invent drama for yourself by running along on your smuggling adventure.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “And even here, you don’t seem to have the sense to be afraid. What would you know of responsibility?”

His words hung in the air between us, his expression daring me to challenge him.

“Well, I apologize, Lord Evander, if I have not adequately cowered for your entertainment, but I do believe I feel my knees weakening with terror at this very moment. Do excuse me.”

With that, I dropped his hand, spun on my heel, and walked away.


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