The Bridge Kingdom (The Bridge Kingdom, #1)

by Danielle L. Jensen

“You were mistaken in your choice, Father.” Lara stood tall as she addressed her king. She stared him down, allowing the dark, grasping, and selfish part of her soul to climb to the surface and stare out at him. “I will be the next queen of Ithicana. And I will bring the Bridge Kingdom to its knees.”

what stood before her was nothing more than a man. And men could be defeated.

You’re a coward, he thought. Because it had only been an excuse to avoid seeing the girl. His mother had believed that this princess was the key to achieving greatness for Ithicana, but Aren wasn’t convinced. Ithicana needed a queen who was a warrior. A woman who’d fight to the death for her people. A woman who was cunning and ruthless, not because she wanted to be but because her country needed her to be. A woman who’d challenge him every day for the rest of his life. A woman Ithicana would respect. And there was one thing he was certain of: Lara Veliant was not that woman.

Biting the insides of her cheeks, Lara struggled to contain her grin. This man might be a hunter. But he was mistaken if he believed she was prey.

“Were you trying to escape?” “Escape to where?” She forced herself to accept his arm as he guided her over a fallen tree. “My father would have me killed for dishonoring him if I returned to Maridrina, and I possess no skills that would allow me to survive elsewhere on my own. Whether I will it or not, Ithicana is where I must remain.” He laughed softly. “At least you’re honest.” Lara contained her own laughter. She was many things, but honest wasn’t one of them. “Then what were you doing out here?” Save the lies for necessity. “I wanted to see the bridge.” Aren stopped in his tracks, turning to give her a sharp look. “Why?” She met his gaze unflinchingly. “I wanted to see the bit of architecture that was worth the rights to my body. My loyalty. My life.” He recoiled as though she’d slapped him. “The rights to those things are yours to give, not your father’s.”

“Lara.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reach for her, then withdraw his hand as though he thought better of touching her. “I know that you didn’t choose to be here.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, his cheeks clenched as though he was struggling for words, and her heart began to pound anticipating what he would say. “I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. That this…this is whatever you want it to be. Or don’t want it to be.”

“Let me make myself abundantly clear, Lara. Ithicana has not held the bridge by spilling its secrets over a bottle of brandy, so if that’s your intent, you’ll have to get more creative. Better yet, save us all the trouble and forget it even exists.” Lara leaned back in her chair, never breaking eye contact. With both hands, she pulled up the skirt of her dress, higher and higher until her thighs were revealed, seeing the intensity of his gaze shift to a different target. Lifting one leg, she pressed a naked foot against his chest, watching his eyes race from her knee to her thigh to the silken underthings she wore beneath. “How about you take your bridge,” she said sweetly, “and shove it up your ass.” His eyes widened right as she straightened her leg, shoving him out of her space. Picking up her book, she tugged her skirt back into place. “I’ll see you at dawn. Good night, Your Grace.” A faint chuckle filled her ears, but she refused to look up even as he said, “Good night, Princess,” and disappeared from the room.

His heart skipped, then raced as she unbuckled it, setting it aside along with the Maridrinian marriage knives she habitually wore. Then she unfastened the laces of her tunic at her throat and pulled the garment over her head. The safe house went completely silent for a heartbeat, then filled with the overloud clatter of weapons being cleaned and mindless chatter, everyone looking anywhere but at their queen. Aren could not seem to do the same. While the other women wore thick standard-issue fabrics, Lara’s undergarments were the finest ivory silk, which was soaked, rendering it effectively transparent. The full curves of her breasts pressed against the fabric, her rose-colored nipples peaked from the cold. There was, Aren thought, nothing the Great Beyond could offer that would be more perfect than her.

“So despite everything, Ithicana is only surviving after all.” He tightened his grip on her hands. “But maybe someday it could be something better.” Neither of them spoke, and when a soft breeze blew strands of hair across her face, Aren reached up to brush them away. Lara didn’t flinch from his touch. Didn’t look away. “You’re beautiful.” He tangled his fingers in her hair. “I’ve thought so since the moment I saw you, but I don’t think I’ve ever said it.”

Lara lowered her eyes, pink rising to her cheeks, although it might’ve just been the glow of the sun. She gave the slightest shake of her head. “I should have.” He lowered his head, intent on kissing her, but instead a sharp noise made him jump. Hand going to his weapon, Aren turned to see Jor coming around the corner, his face filled with amusement. “I hate to break up your picnic, Your Majesties, but dawn is upon us, and we need to be on our way.” As if to punctuate his words, horns sounded out over the water announcing ships on the horizon. “Does this change things for you?” he asked Lara, helping her to her feet. She closed her eyes, her face clenching for a moment as though she were in pain, then she opened them and nodded. “It changes everything.” Hope, and something else, something uniquely reserved for her, flooded his heart and, taking Lara by the hand, Aren led her back to the boats at a run.

“You need to go back to the healers,” she whispered. “You need to let them stitch that up before you bleed to death.” “I’ll be fine.” He lowered his head even as she lifted hers, sharing the same air, the same breath, the rapid rise and fall of his chest belying his words. He was not fine.

Then his lips brushed softly against hers, and it undid her entirely. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she wanted more. More of this and more of him. But instead of giving it to her, he pulled back. “I need you to help me make this stop. I’m tired of fighting against the world, when what I want is to fight to make Ithicana part of it.” And it was as though reality slapped her across the face. Lara pulled away from him. “It’s never going to stop, Aren.” Her voice was barren. Dead. Which was strange, because inside her head was a chaos of emotion. “You have what everyone wants, and they’re never going to stop trying to take it. This is Ithicana, and it’s all it will ever be. Live with it.” “This isn’t living, Lara.” He coughed, then winced, pressing his hand against the wound. “And I intend to keep fighting for a better future even if it kills me.”

“She’s been spying for Ithicana for almost a decade—since your father hanged hers and then spiked his head on Vencia’s gates. She’s loyal.” Jealous words danced on Lara’s tongue, but she swallowed them. “She’s beautiful. And kind.” “Yes.” His gaze was intense. “But she’s not you.”

“Did the whiskey help?” “No.” “It’s never helped me much, either.” A tear leaked onto her cheek, and she turned her face into his chest to hide it. “I’m sorry I’ve been so terrible. You deserve someone better than me.” Aren exhaled, but said nothing. The methodical movement of him climbing the stairs lulled her, consciousness slowly fading away. She didn’t fight it, because against all the odds, she trusted him implicitly. Still, she was aware enough to hear him, his voice hoarse as he said, “Since the moment I set eyes on you in Southwatch, there’s been no one but you. Even if I’m a goddamned fool for it, there will never be anyone but you.” You are a fool, she thought as darkness took her. And that made two of them.

Lara wanted to touch him. Wanted to feel his sleek skin stretched over hard muscles, but she was afraid, because she knew that to do so would be her undoing. There would be no turning back. Aren’s lips paused, and she held her breath, waiting for them to descend on her own even as she wondered whether, if she allowed herself to sink into this hot pool of desire, she’d ever surface again. Whether she’d want to. But he only rested his forehead against hers. “I need you to say that you want this, Lara. That you’re allowing this because you choose to, not because it was forced upon you.” Her chest burned, and emotion so intense it hurt surged through her. She pulled back so their eyes locked. “I want this.” And because that wasn’t the sum of it, she added, “I want you.” The storm returned with a vengeance as their

“God, you’re beautiful,” he growled. “Insufferable and venom-tongued and the most incredible woman I’ve set eyes on.”

In three strides, he was across the room, but rather than pinning her to the bed, as she’d thought he would, he fell to his knees before her. Ithicana—and its king—bent to nothing and no one. But he bent for her.

Head falling back, Lara shrieked into the storm, clawing at his shoulders as he sank into her and then stilled. “Look at me.” She did, pressing her cheek against his hand as he reached up to cup the side of her head. “I love you,” he said, his lips grazing against hers. “And I will love you, no matter what the future brings. No matter how hard I need to fight. I will always love you.”

“It’s yours,” he murmured into her ear. “Ithicana. Everything that I have is yours. To protect. To make better.”