Valka
Too late do I realize my error. How much I have revealed with just one sentence. How silly it is to assu based off of what he did to that he was a piece of shit and didn’t really want a truce. "I--I can’t say for sure," I add, cheeks burning with embarrassnt at my outburst. "It’s just... hard to tell what Rafe’s thinking."
Almost imperceptibly, the air seems to grow colder when I say ’Rafe’. But his face remains stoic, making wonder if I imagined it.
The scroll crinkles under my fingertips. "Why have you really brought here? I know my opinion doesn’t really matter to you."
After a long mont, he points towards the map north of the room. "Voss. The vast majority of the humans occupy Voss. They prefer to stick behind their borders, remaining hidden, never taking sides in the war unless pushed to. And even then, they have always remained neutral. But that isn’t the only reason we do not fuck with them." His eyes flick to . "The Goddess has always had an interesting sense of humor. Of all the lands on earth and across the seas, the only lands that produce the poisons truly capable of killing us are those lorded over by the very humans who despise us. Mountain ash and silver."
My eyes widen and I find my feet crossing the space. There is an... entire civilization of humans that exist beyond the western seas? How could we never have heard of them before? All my life, I thought there were only Silvermoor and Ebonheart. And the barbarians across the seas. "I thought... the ash and silver ca from the mines..." My gaze lifts off the maps to et his. "There are no mines, are there?"
A slow nod. "Few are aware of the true source. Only the royals are. Even so, Voss and Ebonheart have had a treaty for years. Not amicable, but born of necessity. However, in this recent war, the gunpowder in your cannons was laced with ash and silver. So were your blades. It’s the only reason we were torn apart, unable to heal as you cut us down. Did you never ponder on the why of it?"
I did. My throat tightens. Rafe taught us the Ebonheart demons didn’t wound or die easily. But all it took to cut through them was the stab of the blade. I’d chalked it all up to the Goddess’s luck, but now that I think about it... it makes so much sense. "You’re saying... Voss broke the treaty and sided with Silvermoor?"
His jaw clenches, the only sign of his rage. "I would assu so. But if that were the case, then Silvermoor would have no need to seek Truce. With the overwhelming numbers and weapons of the humans, they could simply march upon us and annihilate us. It wouldn’t be the first ti."
He blinks, as if clearing the horrors from his mind. "Which is why I have brought you here. More than your insight, I must admit..." He makes a face and practically vomits the words like it hurts his pride to even utter them. "I am in need of your help."
"I... I don’t understand," I say, voice thin.
He turns to then and I couldn’t have predicted the next words that leave his lips even if I wanted to.
"Marry ," the King of Ebonheart says to .
Everything stops. The crackle of the torch, the rustle of parchnt, the rapid beat of my own wild heart. I choke on my own breath. "W-what?"
Lucien looks up and down, weighing and assessing. "It’ll be a temporary agreent. I cannot inform you of the details until you accept and swear an oath of secrecy--"
I start to tell him no, but he lifts a single finger, silencing . "But at the end of this, I promise you your freedom. As well as your mother’s. I shall be in your favour. One wish, whatever you want. Na it and I shall grant it."
The offer is almost obscene. Freedom. My life back. Far away from these people, far from Silvermoor and this unending war. Far from all the deaths and violence. With mother, we could start over sowhere else.
My brows furrow as I consider his words, but I shake my head. "You could have any other woman play this role. Won more experienced than --"
"Maybe. But you’re the only one I can trust with this."
I blink. "I could betray you whenever I feel like it--"
"Not with my mark on you, no." I grit my teeth, about to say sothing vicious when he adds, "It isn’t a brand of ownership so much as it is a tether. Run until your legs give out and that thread will find you. If I chose, I could bend you, make your limbs move, your will mine. But to force that would an breaking you, and you have beco far too valuable to discard on whim. Hence, my offer."
I stand there, wondering how we got here. How months ago, I was in the dining hall of a training yard, getting beat up within an inch of my life. What had I wanted then? To save my father.
He died.
What do I want now? What did I ever want for my future? I try to think of what my dreams might have been, but my mories are all muddied up after what happened earlier. Did I ever think of what might happen after the war? Did I never think of what I would do with my life after? Return to House Ironfang and live out the rest of my life with my father and mother?
Did I never have dreams of my own?
Still, I’m sure that even if I did, it never would have co to this. Being offered a seat at the side of the most powerful man in the world. Plus, benefits. It is unreal, nothing I would have ever considered. And if there is anything experience has drilled into , it is that if sothing seems too good to be true, it usually is.
So, I tip my chin at Lucien. "What’s the catch?"
He smiles, as if I’ve already accepted. Or it could just be his approval that I had enough brains to ask. "All of this rests upon one condition that you endure the last stage of the Selection and return from it alive."
I startle at that. "Alive?"
He nods. "Being Queen cos with great risks. My brides aren’t chosen for their pretty faces or noble lines. Like the contest for the crown, the Selection is a crucible that thrives off of ruthlessness and in turn produces a natural predator fit to match the king stride for stride. One cruel enough to strike down her perceived competition first, cunning enough to stab the unsuspecting through the back, fearless enough to face down an army and accept death over surrender."
The light catches along the grim set of his jaw. "You will face these won tempered by decades of court, raised and trained by the best in the kingdom, won who have long since learned to turn weaknesses into advantages since they could walk. You are way out of your elent here, but if you cannot withstand them, then I fear there is no point in ever having had this conversation in the first place."
At the sight of my hesitation, he heads for the door with the ease of a man who acts unbothered and amused by everything, when in truth, it was all a farce. Because a troubled King is a troubled Court. "Think it over. When you have decided, you know where to find ."
Two days.
It took just two days for the truth to sink in. Two days of being dressed up and polished like a doll, of Margot drilling on how to breathe, eat, and walk properly.
Two days of my brain turning to mush as I struggled to control my powers and read the old language. Two days of visiting my mother’s cell only for her to try to kill the mont she heard my voice to realize this was no life I wanted.
I wanted to live on my terms. That was my only dream. And if it ant putting myself in front of the fire to own myself, then I would do it. But it was sothing deeper than that. It was that I couldn’t unravel what my dreams ant, and sohow, being in close proximity with Lucien triggered more of those mories. I wanted to know more. I wanted to understand what my purpose in all of this is. Why Thane gave another chance to live.
So, on the eve before the second stage of the Selection, I find myself standing outside Lucien’s door. Forcing in a deep breath, I raise my fist to the door to knock, but it swings open before I do.
Two scantily dressed maids spill forward, reeking of wine and sex. They slam into , giggling which rosy cheeks and eyes feverishly bright. And all over them, I catch the scent of him. And sothing else.
Sex.
They’re taller than , beautiful in the ’I’ll steal your husband. And then lay with your father while I’m at it’ kind of way. I suddenly feel small, tiny as a child beside them. Inferior in a way that never quite occurred to before now as I stare at their wider hips and fuller breasts, and then, stare down at mine as they shove aside and stumble into the hallway in a feat of drunken giggles and wistful whispers of wanting to ’do it all night long’.
Well, I guess even the King has a type. And I’m not--
Wait. What? Heavens forbid it.
I shiver with disgust and march through the receiving chamber into the bedroom beyond. Only to turn into a full circle with a scared scream.
Because he lies tangled in his black sheets in all his naked glory. I’m talking seven feet tall of rock hard, lean muscle and a terrifying weight hanging between his legs. I’ve seen n naked, seen things that positively traumatized myself and Thane, and I’m telling you that King Lucien is not a man.
"Put on your damned clothes!" I bark, heart doing a marathon.
"Why?"
I scream again, because the voice cos from behind . And I feel his naked skin press into my back and that monstrous thing that might as well be a cannon poking into my back. Not my ass. My back, because beside Lucien, I’m a fucking midget.
"Rember that brilliant little speech you gave at the Selection before hurling my jacket at my face? Tell , am I so different from all the n you’re used to that the sight of makes your skin burn my favorite shade of red?"
Yes. Very. Very. "No. I just didn’t expect you to be naked. And so damned ugly." Liar. Fucking liar.
Lucien’s breathy laugh ruffles the top of my hair. "Well then, maybe you shouldn’t have walked into my bedroom without knocking, little liar. Which begs the question of what you’re doing here in the first place." His heat seizes from my back and I hear the rustling of clothes. "You may turn around now."
I do, hands over my eyes, and I breathe deeply in relief when I note him clad in a deep blue robe, pouring himself a goblet of wine. My eyes travel over the room. His bed fra is broken. A pair of lace panties hand from the night stand. His doublet is in shreds on the carpet. The armoire is thrashed and his room in such ruin, you’d think an animal ravaged the space. There’s a whip lying casually in the corner.
Oh my fucking goddess...Is that a rope tied to the edge of the bed? Against my will, my gaze drifts to his wrists and I see the lines of ropes. And suddenly, his comnt earlier of carving up won who want him to doesn’t seem at all far-fetched.
"Pick your jaw off the floor and speak, Valka," he snaps, bringing back to reality. My mouth goes dry as my eyes betray , flicking down to the sculpted plane of his torso.
He exhales sharply through his nose, sothing between an annoyed growl and a tortured hiss. "Keep staring at like that and you’ll discover just how easy it is to thrash a room."
I don’t even want to know what that ans. I force my eyes back to his, even if they want to stray and notice how good his torso looks and... gods, why can’t I focus?My tongue drags over my dry lips. "You said it would be a temporary arrangent. Define temporary."
He stretches onto the couch like a lazy cat. "Two years. During which you will be Queen in na and duty, only. You will uphold the laws of Ebonheart, stand at my side before the court, and carry yourself as though the crown were carved from your own bones. In return, at the end of that term, I will grant you diplomatic immunity, a dowry befitting a sovereign, freedom, and as I ntioned earlier, a boon."
My mind scrambles as I nod. "A-and heirs? Consummation?"
His lips twist into a sneer. "I’d sooner jam my cock through a grinder than fuck you, Valka."
Anger, unreasonable anger flares to life under my skin. "Likewise."
His gaze drops below my hips. "You don’t have a--"
"Shut up, Lucien."
He seems to be in too good a mood to take offense to my tone. Must be the after sex high. I suck in a deep breath and against my better judgent, I say, "I accept. I’m in."
Reviews
All reviews (0)