THEODORE CONFRONTED HIS BROTHER in a modest room on the outskirts of the capital.
The crown prince sat in a chair, chin propped on one hand. Theodore read no emotion in his face, but he still appeared to be in a bad mood.
"I'm so happy you came all the way here to see me," Theodore welcomed his brother.
Arnold said nothing.
Theodore did not allow this to dampen his high spirits. "And without any guards too!Such a delight, considering how you always ignore my invitations. How long has it been since we last sat down to talk like this? This might be the first time ever!" Theodore cackled loudly, and then his face twisted into a grimace.
"I guess that means you must be doing this for her sake."
Even saying the words made a hot pulse of rage streak through his chest.
Finally, Arnold spoke. "You're wasting my time. Get on with it already."
"Rude. Shouldn't you be showing me some brotherly love?"
"Why would I do that? I have no reason to speak to you."
Theodore tutted. "Don't you understand you're in no position to argue? I've abducted your favorite woman. I was expecting at least a smidgen of panic. Or don't you care about her at all?"
He knew the answer, but he said it anyway. Anything to provoke his brother.
When I learned of his betrothal, I thought it a farce. That he'd done it on Father's orders.
The emperor had been pushing his son toward a political marriage for months, ordering him to bring home a foreign princess. All royal marriages were coordinated political moves; Theodore's late mother had been the princess of a once-thriving nation brought under Galkhein's rule.
When word of Arnold journeying home with some random woman spread, Theodore naturally assumed the crown prince was just following orders. He'd begun to rethink that, however, when a messenger arrived ahead of Arnold's return with orders for a cadre of maids to serve his fiancée.
Theodore took that opportunity to sneak Elsie in among the potential servants, learning that his brother planned to prepare the detached palace for his bride and move in with her when all was ready. This was not a man who was marrying a woman in name only.
I'm jealous of her. Of course I am.
He'd never received a moment of kindness from his brother. Arnold had even gone so far as to order Theodore to stay away from his bride, not even allowing him to greet her. When Theodore heard that she'd been allotted an herb garden, he'd wanted to trample it to death. He restrained his childish envy and managed to just take a nap instead.
He could use her. And he had. Finally, Arnold was here. Arnold was speaking to him.
"What you're doing is pointless," Arnold declared, his expression oddly cool for a man whose fiancée had been taken prisoner.
"Pointless?" Theodore snickered. "I know you view me as a stranger with no strategic value. But now you must acknowledge at least this: that I can hurt you."
He copied his brother's posture, propping up his chin in a mirror image. "As you well know, what I want is your throne—the seat of the crown prince."
Had his brother guessed that this was his price? Or was Theodore so irrelevant in his eyes he hadn't even bothered to wonder at his motives?
Arnold's face revealed nothing.
He glared at me so coldly that night at the chapel. Why won't he do it again?
Arnold wouldn't give a damn about a challenge to his succession. Rishe was his only weakness, and Theodore held her life in his hands. He stood up, continuing his threats. "Are you listening? If you want your bride returned to you unharmed, you'll abdicate in my favor. Otherwise, I can't promise you her continued well-being."
He was met with silence.
"You care about her. You're playing it cool, but I know you're terrified."
Theodore took a single step toward him.
"She means a lot to you, doesn't she? Far more than the brother you loathe the sight of and the sisters you sent away! You cherish her, and you want her by your side. I completely understand that. I know you—I've been watching you for a long time."
Another step. Theodore was inching closer than his brother had ever allowed him.
"And right now, the life of the woman you care so much about is in my hands. You're very worried, aren't you? You must be on pins and needles! The fact that you came here so late at night without an escort is proof of that!"
His vision wavered. He felt almost lightheaded as he stood over his brother, voice rising to a screech.
"C'mon, say something already! Admit I won this round! Say 'well played, Theodore ' and give me your title!" Theodore smacked a hand against his chest.
"That's all I need! Give me this, and I'll be happy for the rest of my life!"
A long silence hung between them. Then his brother finally said, "Theodore."
Theodore was overjoyed to hear his brother say his name, but still there was nothing on his face. No fury or contempt—not even mild dislike.
Why not?
Arnold smiled slowly, leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. Certainly not like he felt threatened.
"Very well, I'll play along for the moment. You claim that you've locked her up somewhere. Tell me, is it a prison?"
"What?" Theodore snapped, annoyed. He wasn't that stupid; he hadn't put her in somewhere as mundane as a prison. The city prisons were under the jurisdiction of the knights—surely Arnold would have searched them all.
His brother already knew the answer, so why was he bothering to ask?
Theodore replied snidely, "I put her in a cramped, dirty room. She won't escape. It's basically an isolated cell, locked from the outside."
"My, so you locked it," Arnold said. "What else?"
"I posted some ruffians to guard her. They're armed. Her room is up high, so she can't jump out of the window. If she tries to scream for help, the guards will silence her in an instant."
"Oh, there's even a window?"
Arnold's arched tone just wound Theodore up further. "Did you hear a word I said?There's no way she can jump from a window that high!"
"Is that what you think?"
"Yeah, it is. And even if she did somehow manage to get out, my guards will capture her." He couldn't believe he had to explain this; it was so obvious.
Nevertheless, his brother showed no sign of losing his composure.
"Normally, I'd agree with you."
What the heck was he talking about?
Theodore's irritation was beginning to shade over into anxiety. What if he'd made a miscalculation when choosing her as his hostage?
No way. It can't be.
Theodore knew he'd interpreted his brother's feelings correctly. He did care about Rishe—it was plain as day in his gaze when he looked at her. So why wasn't he angry? Why wasn't he looking at Theodore with hatred and showering him with scathing words?
"Maybe I'll…cut off a finger," Theodore mused. "Show you I mean business. It's not too late for that, you know. The guards will hurt her on my command, I promise you that."
"My foolish little brother." Arnold smiled with disdain.
Theodore had just thrown everything he could to make Arnold react, but this wasn't what he wanted. His brother was looking at him with pitying contempt for his foolishness, not because the capture of his bride had left him helpless.
"You already lost, Theodore. The second you thought you'd captured her, you'd already lost."