He hadn’t shown.
Things were even harder when I turned nineteen. And then, six months ago, when I turned twenty and found myself once more seated on the throne in that damn veil and gown for the third time? They’d summoned him again, and still, he didn’t come. Everything changed then. I hadn’t known what hard was until then.
Before, they always sent my meals to my room—breakfast, a small lunch, and then dinner. After the first summoning, that changed. They skipped deliveries. Less food was sent. But by the last summoning, they sent nothing at all to my chambers. I had to raid the kitchens during the short window of time where any food worth consuming could be found. But I could deal with that, as I could the lack of other necessities and new clothing to replace well-worn items. Many within Lasania had even less. The worst part was the fact that my mother had hardly spoken to me over the last three years. She barely looked at me, except on nights like this when she wanted to send a message. Weeks passed without me catching even a single glimpse of her, and while she had always been remote, I’d still spent time with her. She would check in on our training and even share a lunch with me every so often. Then there was Tavius, who now behaved with the knowledge that there was little if no consequences for his actions. The hours when I wasn’t training with Sir Holland—who believed the Primal would still come for me because I had never told anyone what he’d said, not even my stepsister, Ezra—and I was alone without anyone to spend time with or be close to, were long and passed slowly.
But tonight, she had looked at me. She had spoken to me. And this was what she wanted.
A bitter taste pooled in the back of my mouth as a familiar form appeared at the edge of the alley. I recognized the cut of the dark crimson tunic and the shine of his fair hair in the moonlight.
The beat of my heart was steady and slow as I lowered the hood, stepping out of the shadows and into the lamplight. “Lord Claus,” I called.
He stopped, turning to the mouth of the alley. His head tilted, and I didn’t know if I felt relief or pain or nothing at all as he said, “Handmaiden?”
“Yes.”
“Hell,” he drawled, stepping into the alley. “Did the bitch Queen change her mind?” Each step toward me was cocksure, unhurried and at ease. “Or did I catch your fancy?” He adjusted himself. “And make up your own mind?”
I waited until he was several feet from me, far enough away from the street. Then again, in this area of Carsodonia, one could scream, and no one would blink an eye. “Something like that.”
“Something?” Air whistled between his teeth as his gaze once more fixed south of my face on the swells of my breasts above the gauzy bodice. “I’m betting you know a lot about some things, don’t you?”
I wasn’t even sure what that meant, and I truly didn’t care. “The Queen was quite displeased with your answer.”
“I’m sure she was.” His thick chuckle faded. Finally looking at my face, he stopped in front of me. “I hope you didn’t come all the way down here and wait for me just to tell me that.”
“No. I came to deliver a message.”
“Is that message under here?” Lord Claus asked, curling a finger in the slit of my gown. “I bet it’s nice and warm and…” He pulled on the thin material, revealing my thigh sheath.
“The message is neither tight nor wet nor whatever other coarse word was about to come out of your mouth.” I withdrew the dagger.
His gaze shot to mine, his eyes widening briefly with shock. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“The only joke here is that you thought you’d live to see the night through.” I paused. “And that you so eagerly stepped into a trap.”
Anger crowded out the shock, mottling and twisting his features. Men and their fragile egos. They were so easy to manipulate.
Lord Claus swung a meaty fist at me, just like I knew he would, and I dipped under his arm, rising swiftly behind him. I kicked out, planting my foot in the center of his back. He staggered forward, grunting as he caught himself. Withdrawing his sword, he swept out with it in a wide arc, forcing me to dance back. That was one of the benefits of a larger weapon like a sword. It forced the opponent to keep back and on their toes, risking life and limb to get close. But it was heavier, and only a few could wield one gracefully.
Lord Claus wasn’t one of them.
Neither was I.
“You know what I’m going to do?” He stalked forward.