She stared at him. “I’m the blooded princess heir of the Fells,” she declared through gritted teeth, those green eyes dark as the deep ocean. “Any prince or noble in the entire Seven Realms should be thrilled to marry me. No questions asked.”

Her voice was getting louder and louder, and Amon put his finger to his lips. “Shhh. I agree, and Da agrees, but the southern princes have…old-fashioned ideas about women,” he said. “They think brides should be…pure…when they come to…Bones, Raisa, just trust me, all right?”

His face was flaming. He shouldn’t be having this conversation with the princess heir of the Fells. It was just wrong.

“And we want to keep those options open since we think, I mean, Da thinks it might be more advantageous for you to marry south than to marry someone within the realm…”

“And he thinks this because…?”

“Well. Because we may need allies when the Ardenine wars are over,” Amon said lamely. And Lord Bayar seems to be against it, he added to himself.

“So now the captain of my Guard and one of his officers are laying plans for whom I should marry,” Raisa said in that quiet voice that meant trouble. “And dithering over my reputation like two old aunties.”

“Anyway,” Amon said hurriedly, hoping to bring this conversation to a quick close, “he thought it best if we avoid that whole thing by—”

“By lying to his liege queen?”

“Well, yes. Basically.” Amon cleared his throat, feeling the blood rush to his face.

She paced along, taking two steps for his one, her dark brows drawn together. “So nobody knows about…about the trip into Southbridge, and the kidnapping, or anything?”

“Different people know pieces. The Queen’s Guard has been searching for a girl named Rebecca. My triple thinks you’re my…sweetheart.” He looked over at Raisa. “What does Cuffs know?”

She shrugged. “He thinks I’m your sweetheart too, I guess,” she said wryly.

Amon felt a spark of optimism. “So maybe this will work,” he said. He glanced over at her, wanting to ask for a rundown of everything that had happened since she was grabbed from the temple.

Something had happened between them, of that he was certain, and he didn’t like it. One overnight with Cuffs Alister, and Raisa had turned into some kind of outlaw. So he said, “Are you…are you sure you’re all right? That…Cuffs…did he…?”

“Me? I’m fine,” she said distractedly. “But we’ve got to do something about the Guard. They’re torturing people. That old man who came out with us? He had been down in the pit for fifteen years. Mac Gillen is a heartless brute.”

“So you went into the guardhouse…to rescue them?” Amon was still trying to understand.