Tempting the Wrong Prince
he said breathlessly, “the people said they are being forced to sell. Intimidated. Threatened. They say they do not want to leave.”
I could feel eyes flick toward me, waiting, baiting, hoping I would react, reveal something, take the heat so the King wouldn’t burn.
A convenient lightning rod.
An exiled prince dragged back into politics was always a tempting scapegoat.
I remained still.
Detached.
Watching.
Until Ivana stood.
Of course.
Her voice rang clear with calculated sweetness, slicing through the tension like a poisoned blade disguised as honey.
“The people are willing to sell,” she announced confidently. “We verified it.”