The Ruby Prince: Book Two of Imirillia (The Books of Imirillia 2) Read Online Free PDF

down and marched into Aemogen, probably not sparing me in the process for having been such a fool.” A flush of color crept into his skin. “I do value my neck, as much as any man.”
    Eleanor bit her lip, considering his words. She closed her eyes briefly, feeling the sting of remembering the intimate conversations she had shared with him.
    “I have laid awake, cursing you in the dark, searching for the hints of your insincerity while you were in Aemogen,” she admitted. “How simple you must have thought us.”
    “No,” he said as he shook his head. “You asked me if I would pledge myself to the battle run, and I committed fully. There was no playing a part in my dedication to that task, no insincerity for you to find, Eleanor. You yourself told me that I was a gamble worth taking, that the odds were you could gain more than I could in return. Your gamble paid off—there is nothing simple in that.”
    “I did not imply I was simple, merely that your estimation must have painted me so,” Eleanor stated. “And you still feel that I should have surrendered.”
    “I wish you had,” Basaal replied. The weight in his voice kept Eleanor from speaking.
    The prince held his mouth closed, tight and unmoving, while his eyes betrayed the words he was holding back. Eleanor lifted her chin, and they stared at each other, taking stock, reconfiguring who they each thought the other person to be.
    “You are more calculating than I had considered,” he finally said. “Things that I had supposed to have been by chance now feel pushed and pulled, all along, beneath your calm expression.”
    “Everything I shared with you was honest.”
    The prince cleared his throat, looking down at the rug beneath them before looking back up into Eleanor’s eyes. “I was remarking on your intelligence, not on any kind of deviant design. Have no fear—your integrity remains intact.”
    I don’t fear it , Eleanor wanted to snap in return, but she waited for her anger to pass. “You are beholden to more than I had supposed,” she stubbornly admitted. “I will honestly say, your balancing act is—” she paused and pursed her lips. “How you must negotiate your life. I don’t envy you for it.” When he did not answer, Eleanor moved past her own words. “What, then, is your plan for my escape?”
    Basaal half laughed. “You heard for yourself the reality of our situation. If you escape, the Vestan assassins will track you down and see you dead. None operate as they do,” he explained. “You would have no chance. I, in turn, would be held under suspicion, taken to Zarbadast as a prisoner, and removed from my post, if not worse,” he added. “So, I cannot be seen abetting your escape, especially since there are rumors we have become lovers and I aided you in bringing down the pass.”
    Eleanor flushed and raised her eyebrow but did not pursue the topic of the rumor. “So, you’re not going to help me escape.”
    “I didn’t say that,” Basaal said, and he looked down at his hands. “But, the Vestan will accompany us to Zarbadast. We must continue under the guise that you have come to be my wife. It’s a believable position for a seventh son who will not inherit the crown. If I were more like my father, it would be a solid political move, increasing my own lands while building the empire.” He still did not look up at Eleanor but ran his fingers over the calluses on his palms. “Continuing this charade is the best chance you have of avoiding death,” he added.
    “The best chance I had of avoiding death would have been receiving your honesty months ago,” Eleanor clipped.
    The prince shook his head. “My world does not revolve around your well-being, Your Majesty,” he replied. His words were said softer than she had ever heard him speak, but they were lined with an intimidating intensity. “I am neither Aedon nor Crispin nor Hastian. I am a young man, anxious to be home. I have my own loyalties, my own difficulties,