Chapter 2

I turned toward my carriage and never looked back.

As we passed through the market square, voices drifted in through the curtain.

"Have you heard? The lady general of the Lane family and Mr. Kingston are thick as thieves. Battle-forged loyalty, they call it."

"Oh, indeed. The two of them are joined at the hip. Closer than real brothers, if you ask me."

I leaned back against the cushion and closed my eyes.

Brothers?

I wanted to see how long their bond would last without my gold keeping it alive.

*****

The moment I returned to my estate, I gave my first order. Every portrait of Philip was to be taken down.

I pointed at the paintings I had once treasured like holy relics and said calmly, "Burn them all."

The firelight danced across my face, and for the first time since winter began, I felt warm.

A servant hurried in, clutching a letter. He bowed his head and announced, "Your Highness, a message from Mr. Kingston."

I took the letter and broke the seal.

A single line of cold, clipped words stared back at me. [Eve wishes to hunt in the grounds. Send your thoroughbred by morning.]

It was not a request. It was a command, as if I were nothing more than a storehouse for him to raid at will.

I tossed the letter into the brazier and watched the flames swallow it whole.

I turned to the servant, and a thin, mocking smile curled at my lips. "Send word to Mr. Kingston."

The servant stood frozen, waiting.

"Tell him the mare has been slaughtered and the meat fed to the hounds. But if Ms. Lane has a taste for it, I will gladly send her a couple of bones."

The servant's face went white. He stammered, "Your Highness, this—"

I cut him off. "Go."

I picked up my cup of coffee and took a slow sip. "Philip, this is only the beginning."

*****

The next morning, Philip stormed into my chambers before I had even finished dressing.

I sat before the mirror while Grace pinned my hair into place. The door slammed open, and I didn't flinch.

Philip shoved past the handmaiden who tried to block his path, his expression dark with fury. He barked, "Charlotte, have you lost your mind?"

I watched him in the bronze mirror's reflection and kept still. I said coolly, "Mr. Kingston, barging into a princess' chambers at dawn. Are you trying to earn yourself a charge of disrespect?"

Philip let out a bitter laugh and closed the distance between us in three long strides.

He stood behind me and snapped, "Disrespect? You used to beg me to come. Eve only wanted a horse, and you threatened to slaughter it and feed it to the dogs. Do you have any idea what that horse means to her?"

I set down my brush and turned slowly to face him. "What it means to her is none of my concern."

Philip faltered at my words, and his expression twisted with even deeper contempt. He said, "She went to the hunting grounds to gather herbs for me. You're a princess. How can you be so petty?"

I rose to my feet and locked eyes with him. "Philip, have you forgotten? That horse was a birthday gift from my father. You took what was mine to win her favor, and now you have the nerve to call me petty?"

Philip frowned, as though my reaction was completely unreasonable. He scoffed, "It's just a horse. Your stables are full of them. Why make such a fuss? Eve is honest and easygoing. She only asked because she considers you a friend."

I let out a soft laugh and circled him slowly. "A friend? She took my medicine in the dead of winter, when I needed it to survive. Is that what friends do?"

Philip's face shifted, and his tone softened slightly.

He said, "I already explained the medicine. Eve's father needed it more. As for my illness, I can handle it."

I studied him, and something cold settled in my chest. The man standing before me felt like a stranger.

I once believed he was noble and untouchable, a fallen god exiled from the heavens.

Now I saw the truth. He was nothing more than a selfish man with an inflated sense of his own worth.

I said flatly, "Whether you can handle it or not is your problem."

I settled back onto the chaise and let my voice drop into a lazy drawl. "I didn't summon you here today to listen to you ramble."

Philip blinked. "What do you mean?"

I clapped my hands, and the steward entered carrying a thick stack of ledgers.

I said, "Mr. Kingston, for the past three years, every meal you ate, every garment you wore, and every roof over your family's head was paid for by my household."

I continued, "The estate your father purchased in Southvale. The jewels your mother received for her birthday. And the funds your distant relatives needed when they came to the capital looking for favors."

With every word I spoke, Philip's expression darkened a shade further.

Philip snapped, "Charlotte, what the hell is this? You're coming to settle scores with me?"

I nodded. "Even family keeps honest accounts, and besides, I never planned on calling you family."

I held his gaze and said, "One hundred and twenty thousand dollars in total. So tell me, Mr. Kingston, are you paying now, or signing a debt note?"

Philip stared at me as though I had lost my mind. Then a laugh broke through his fury, sharp and bitter.

He scoffed, "Are you insane? You gave all of that willingly. And now you're throwing it in my face? Have you no shame?"

I lifted my coffee cup and blew across the rim, letting the silence stretch. "I was blind before," I said. "But I've since recovered."

I set the cup down and continued, "Mr. Kingston, you've always praised Evelyn for her candor. I can only assume you hold yourself to the same high standard.

"And a man of such high standards would never stoop to living off a woman's coin. Would he?"

The words landed like two open-handed slaps across his face.

Philip's chest heaved, and his eyes burned with barely contained rage.

He spat through clenched teeth, "Fine. Charlotte, you think without your filthy money, the Kingston family would crumble?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Whether it crumbles or not," I said, "why don't you find out?"

Philip let out a cold laugh. He reached into his coat, pulled out a silver ring, and slammed it onto the table.

He snarled, "This is the betrothal token you gave me. Take it back.

"And those 120 thousand? I will return every last one within three days."

I stared at the misshapen ring, but I felt nothing.

I had worn my fingers raw to make that ring, and now it meant less than nothing to me.

I said coolly, "You can see yourself out."

Philip turned and left without another word, his footsteps quick and hurried.