“Elea,” she finished for him.
Matteo’s lips tightened into a straight line and he gave a curt nod.
Isa lightly put her arm around his shoulders. “We should send a message to our ambassador in Kaul and see if he can give us any further details. And discover if it is true that they have declared war on Urka.”
“I could send a bird to my informer in Kaul for more information,” Xavier offered. Matteo had promoted him to Master of Spies when he’d become king. There was no person, besides his sister, that he trusted more.
“Please.” Matteo shrugged off his sister’s arm and stumbled to his feet. “And you’re right too, Isa. Kaul would not have killed both princesses. They would need at least one to marry the dauphin and have a claim to the Urkan throne. King Pierre may be mad, but he’s no fool.”
“Both of them could still be alive,” Isa insisted, getting to her feet.
Xavier cleared his throat. “I’ll write to my informant in Haute-Rhône Palace at once.”
Matteo watched his friend leave and his gaze returned to his little sister. She shooed him with her hand. “Go. Nora needs you.”
Matteo did not wait for another word but ran from the infirmary as quickly as he’d entered it. With him being the king, everyone moved out of their way for him. Out of breath and nearly out of hope, he reached the aviary on the opposite side of the castle.
The head of the aviary bowed. “What can I do for you, Your Majesty?” she asked.
“I need to send a message to the ambassador of Kaul,” he said. “The fastest bird you have.”
5
GERARD
Gerard knocked nervously on the door. The Urkan princess fascinated him unlike any woman he’d ever met. It was almost like magic. He could not rid his thoughts of her. She plagued his mind both night and day, like a spell had been cast upon him.
“Come in,” she called in Kaulish. She spoke the language like a native, without any noticeable accent.
Gerard walked in the room and took off his hat.
“Princess—Elea,” he said in the lowest timbre of his voice. “Would you like to come to dinner? We are celebrating our successful voyage.”
She stood up and promptly fell back onto the bed from the ship’s movement. “I can hardly celebrate my capture.”
“But you can celebrate your return home to Urka.”
“It is hard to feel any gratitude for one’s captors, even if they are returning me home, but I am sick of this cabin. I shall join you. What time?”
He gripped his hat tighter. “My officers are waiting now, Princess.”
Elea glanced down at her wrinkled white muslin dress and her tangled violet curls. “I am afraid that I am not quite presentable.”
“You look beautiful,” he said, then dropped his eyes to his hat.
She was aprincess.
He glanced up to see her stand again, this time more successfully than the first, and then walk over to his desk, which she was using as a vanity. Picking up a brush, she quickly combed through her hair. She bit her lower lip and he wondered what they would taste like.
“I am ready.”
Elea took a few cautious steps toward him, but the ship tilted just as she reached him and she fell into Gerard. Her face pressed against his hard abdomen, her hands into his back. Something deep in his belly tightened, and for a moment, he contemplated not letting go. Shaking his head, Gerard lifted her up from beneath her arms and back to her feet. They were still close enough that he could smell her perfume—sweet, foreign, and forbidden.
“I should be sorry,” she whispered.
“I’m not,” he said with a smirk, attempting nonchalance. “Shall we?”
He offered his arm and Elea took it.