King of the Unblessed

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “I will never belong to you,” she whispered. “No more than this. I despise you.”

  Her cold words were like a slap across his face. He had not forced himself on her. She had come to him willingly and yet here she was staring at him, her eyes accusing. Why was she not pleased? She wanted him. He smelled it, felt it, answered her call when she said his name. She had summoned him to her and he had come. He gave her what she wanted and still she blamed him, hated him.

  As if to confirm his thoughts, she said, “I will never love you, Merrick.”

  Her stinging rejection ripped through him. He would never be good enough for her. He knew that now. She had denied him to her brothers that same night they’d come together in the pond. She had gone to Nicholas, let him kiss her without a protest. Juliana used him, took her body’s fulfillment and then tried to toss him aside. Nothing he did would ever please her. What had he expected? He was king to all that was unblessed. Why would he not be unblessed in this?

  Merrick slowly sat up. “Make no mistake. You already belong to me.”

  Merrick disappeared from her sight, hearing her gasp as he left her. Rage simmered within him and he was unable to look at his tormenter a second longer. She could fight him all she wanted, but he vowed that in the end he would rule her completely—willing or no.

  Chapter Nine

  “My king, Lord Kalen’s army marches.”

  Ean looked up in shock at Gregor’s words. He was in the center courtyard. Expansive gardens stretched within the protective embrace of the castle walls. The air was sweet, filled with the fragrance of flowers warmed by the sun. Like all days in the Golden Palace, the weather was perfect. The sunlight shone on the crystal wall, making the palace appear gold in color, casting its light over the garden. Fruit trees grew, always bearing ripe fruit no matter the season, outside the palace. White cobblestone pathways led in harmonious design through the shrubbery.

  Ean took a deep breath and held it. He had spent many hours in the courtyard with his brothers and it pleased him, even as it saddened him, to remember the days long passed. However, seeing Gregor’s face, all pleasure faded. “You’re sure?”

  Gregor nodded. “Our spies have seen the Berserks marching from the mountain fortress of Taranis. Lord Kalen leads them toward Valdis. They don’t even try to hide themselves from view. It can only mean one thing. We must prepare ourselves for battle.”

  Ean’s gut tightened and he thoughtfully rubbed his bottom lip. First Lucien and now Lord Kalen at Merrick’s palace. What was Merrick up to? Surely it was too soon to call up arms. He did not want to fight over a mortal woman. “Have the men readied, but do not lead them from their homes just yet.”

  Gregor bowed. He turned to do as he was ordered.

  “Gregor,” Ean said, his voice stern. “We will not strike the first blow. Am I clear?”

  Gregor nodded once. “Yes, my king.”

  Ean waved him away. He no longer saw the gardens as he stared at his hands. At one time he’d considered starting a war to ease his boredom, but they were just thoughts. He would never intentionally put his people in harm’s way. Closing his eyes, he whispered, “Ah, Merrick, what are you up to?”

  * * *

  Juliana stepped through the doorway, drawing attention from some of the goblins in the main hall. A couple days had passed since she’d succumbed to Merrick. He had not seduced her again. She knew it was for the best, even as she longed for his touch.

  Merrick had come back to her, granting her freedom to roam his palace with the promise that none of his subjects would harm her. The first time she’d stepped into his main hall, she wasn’t so sure. She’d watched the horrific-looking unblessed goblins staring at her with both disgust and curiosity. It had taken all of her resolve to walk across the hall with her head held high. Merrick had watched her from his throne, his challenging look giving her strength.

  Each morning she awoke, it was to the same room but the décor always changed with Merrick’s moods. Mostly it was black, but sometimes there would be a display of color amongst the dark. When she asked about it, he said it was an unconscious changing, like her clothing. The castle merely knew what he wanted and changed to suit him.

  Along with the room, each morning her gown would be different. The material was always dark, usually black. Aside from that first time when her hair had been coiled on her head, her locks were left loose about her shoulders. At night, her clothes seemed to disappear, leaving her to sleep in the nude. It was disconcerting to see her clothing just dissolve from her limbs as she lay down for the night.

  Today her dress was more like she was used to, though the bodice did show a great amount of cleavage. The upturned collar framed her face, dipping down the front in a long V. The long, trailing sleeves touched the floor, but were short enough on top that her hands were not covered. The bodice formed directly into a full skirt with no belted waist, just formed pleats. The gown lacked petticoats, but it was long and no slits showed off her legs. The black material was soft, accented with the briefest touches of silver embroidery along the hems. Her thigh-high boots had been replaced with more sensible short boots.

  Almost every comfort she desired, she was given. The morning after they had come together, she awoke to find a long table with every imaginable toiletry at her disposal. If she wanted to bathe, Merrick would materialize a bath for her, steaming with hot water. If she was hungry, Merrick would materialize food. If she needed anything, all she had to do was say his name and he would hear her. He never came to her on his own, always waiting to be summoned. Occasionally, their paths would cross in the great hall. It was for this reason alone she spent so much time there, though she would never admit it.

  This time she had reason for going to the hall. Iago, whom she recognized from outside her bedchambers at Bellemare, had delivered a summons from Merrick to the great hall. Every time the goblin spoke, she’d see his sharp teeth poking out from beneath his thick lips and want to run for cover. His beady black eyes watched her every movement as if he was just as wary of her as she was of him.

  Now, as she took a hesitant step forward, the goblins peeked around the thick Corinthian columns lining the hall to watch her, their eerie faces contrasted by firelight. She paused, eyeing them as they eyed her. A few turned their backs, others continued to stare. The large troll, Volos, sniffed at her. She shivered. Out of all the creatures, Volos scared her the most. With one strike of his beefy arm, she’d be crushed. When she looked up at the throne, it was empty. Glancing at Iago, she inquired, “Where is he?”

  The goblin frowned, tossing out his hands. Juliana studied him before looking around the others. She’d seen them play pranks on each other, binding each other’s ankles together so they would trip, putting pretty flower petals in each other’s soups to make the person sick. Strangely they reminded her of very mischievous children—ugly, hairy, smelly, mischievous children with some magical abilities and unlimited imagination with which to use them. Thinking of it, she realized it was a frightening combination.

  Iago watched her expectantly. The hall was quiet, too quiet. They were all staring at her.

  “I don’t suppose you would want to hear a story?” she asked, wondering if she could somehow win their loyalties from Merrick. It was doubtful, but she had to at least try if she ever hoped to escape. Surely these creatures knew how to get out of the Black Palace. Perhaps she could even convince one to help her find her brothers. If that plan failed, it would be nice to ease their tension around her. She tired of their eyes following her with suspicion.

  Iago’s ears perked up, actually twitching on his head.

  “What kind of story?” Tuki asked. The small, hairy goblin stepped forward on his taloned feet. Juliana trembled, almost sorry she’d offered as a few of the other goblins drew nearer. Their wrinkled faces turned up to look at her with curiosity. She bit her lip, keeping a sharp eye on them.

  “About…a…Nixie?” she asked, remembering how the story had made the mortal chi
ldren giggle.

  “Those old hags?” Bevil shouted in his high-pitched whine. His long arms dragged on the floor as he walked in front of Volos. Volos stuck a finger up his nose. “Why would we want to hear about them?”

  “All right.” Juliana tilted her head to the side. In her head, she ran through all the stories she’d told to the children. “How about a great human knight and how he fought the beast who was eating the king’s men?”

  “Only if the beast eats the knight,” Iago said, looking interested. The goblins laughed, drawing closer to her. Juliana looked around and finally sat down at their table. She kept her back to the strange rotted foods. They gathered around her, sitting at her feet on the stone floor. She did her best to look past their gnarled bodies and distorted faces.

  “Ew, humans are too bony to make a good meal,” Tuki cackled

  “Funny,” Juliana countered, seeing the look they shared. She saw their diets of worms and slugs and highly doubted humans were on it. “We say the same thing about nasty little goblins.”

  Her comment met with a round of laughter and nods of approval. Juliana hid her smile. Maybe winning over the goblins wasn’t going to be so tough after all. She was used to playing with the children of Bellemare. Maybe these creatures weren’t so different.

  “This beast, what does he look like?” Iago asked. “He sounds like this cousin I once had.”

  Juliana leaned forward, narrowing her eyes and dropping her voice like she did to the group of children back home. As she spoke, she held their rapt attention. They gasped and nodded and laughed at all the right places in her tale. Only this time when she reached the ending, she made sure the hero knight died and the vicious beast won.

  * * *

  Merrick stopped as he entered the hall, lurking in the shadows so he couldn’t be seen. Iago was to bring Juliana to him. The king wished to inform her of the celebration before the guests arrived. He could have easily found her himself, but he didn’t want to be alone with her. Besides, she needed to get used to his goblin subjects if she was to live in his palace.

  Juliana’s soft voice carried over the hall, punctuated by the laughter of his goblins. She lifted her hand, swiping it through the air as she told some human story. The goblins were completely enthralled with her. It would seem she’d adjusted to them quite well. Merrick caught himself smiling as Volos pushed Tuki out of the way to sit next to her on the bench. Tuki went rolling like a ball across the floor. The king chuckled to see the stunned look on Juliana’s face as the giant troll stared at her, a bit of slimy drool dripping over the side of his lips. To her credit, she didn’t hesitate long.

  Merrick waited until she finished her story before making his presence known. He stepped into the hall, quirking an eyebrow at the group. The goblins scattered, looking incredibly guilty. Bevil pulled Volos away. The large troll protested, pouting loudly, but in the end he did as Bevil said. Some went before the fire, others gathered at the table to eat.

  Juliana watched them leave before standing to dust off her skirt. Merrick went to his throne. It was hard not to go directly to her and kiss her senseless. Knowing his kisses would not be welcomed kept him away. She came before him, curtseying lightly. “Your Majesty.”

  Merrick frowned. She’d been doing that a lot lately. If it wasn’t “your majesty”, it was “your highness” or “my king”. She never called him by his name.

  “You requested I come to the hall?” she continued, not looking at him.

  “Tonight we will have a celebration,” Merrick said. Juliana gasped in surprise, finally turning her wide eyes to his. “You will help me entertain my guests.”

  “Do you mean I’m to…?” She took a step back, frowning. “What do you mean by entertain?”

  Merrick scowled in annoyance. Did she really think he’d share her with other men? “You are the lady of this palace now. I expect you to act as such in this small capacity. You will greet my guests and make them welcome. Or just show up in the hall and ignore them. I really don’t care who you offend.”

  “Am I?” She searched his face.

  “Are you what?”

  “You said I was the lady of the palace,” Juliana said. “Wouldn’t prisoner be a better title?”

  Merrick felt his stomach tighten in irritation. She made it known at every turn that she thought of herself as a prisoner. Was it too much to ask that she thought of his home as her home and not a dungeon? She’d wanted an adventure, he had given it to her. What was more of an adventure to a human than this? The immortal realm. The Black Palace of the Unblessed. A dark elfin king who came at her very call. He gave her what she asked for and still she was not happy. Lifting his hand, he twisted his fingers through the air and said, “As you wish.”

  Chains grew out of the floor like snakes, the metal links winding up from the stone and sprouting manacles for heads. The goblins laughed, cheering Merrick. Juliana screamed as a manacle snapped its iron jaws at her foot. She backed away, only to have another snap at her from behind. A manacle clamped her ankle. She screamed, kicking her leg to get it free. Soon the other manacle captured her other ankle as two more grew from the ceiling to capture her wrists. The ceiling chains pulled her up off the ground. She dangled, her arms pointing straight above her head.

  Merrick stepped down from his throne and walked to her, eyeing his handiwork. Pointing two fingers at her legs, he spread them apart, making the chains do the same thing. Her legs pulled to the side, holding her firm to keep her from spinning around. She was high enough that he could pass easily under her skirt. It would be an alluring view, but he refrained. “If you prefer to be the decoration, so be it.”

  “Merrick,” she said, her voice trembling.

  He was instantly sorry for losing his temper, but he didn’t back down now. How could he? She’d openly insulted him in front of his subjects. The goblins liked to gossip. If it was known that a mere woman, and a mortal at that, slighted him in his own home, he’d be attacked for sure. No one could resist coming after a weak king.

  “Merrick,” she said again, louder. Her voice quivered. “I would be honored to act as a lady in your home.”

  Merrick smiled. The chains disappeared and she floated slowly to the ground, landing on her feet. He came close to her, his voice low. “I care not if you insult every guest that walks through my door. I care not if you sulk in a corner. I care not if you dance with every male tonight. But disrespect me in front of my subjects again and you will be severely punished. I cannot have a guest in my home insulting me.”

  Juliana nodded. Her mouth opened and he knew she would protest his choice of words. She did not consider herself a guest. Then, to his surprise, she refrained and didn’t speak. Instead, she merely trembled before him. He hated that she feared him, but he wouldn’t change it. How could he? He was frightening. Besides, she wouldn’t believe anything he would say to comfort her.

  Merrick leaned next to her ear, not touching her as he said, “Try to convince anyone to help you escape or let them get too familiar and I’ll reinvent the word punishment. You belong to me. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, my king,” Juliana said softly.

  Merrick touched her cheek, wanting to do more. But he would not force himself on her. He might threaten and yell, but in the end he wouldn’t harm her. In the end, it was she who ruled him.

  “Good.” Merrick pulled his hand away. He should have just killed her like planned, rid himself of her and been done with it. He must truly hate himself to bring her to his home. The Unblessed King would never find happiness. He would find many things, but happiness and contentment were not amongst them. “My guests arrive tonight.”

  “Yes, my king.” She didn’t move. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. There was so much he longed to say.

  “Juliana,” Merrick said softly. He kept his voice calm, but inside his stomach was knotted. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

  Her wide blue eyes turned to him, eyeing him as if he were insane. “This fro
m the man who murdered Eadward? The man who holds me prisoner, forbids me to leave and threatens to punish me if I insomuch dare to try?”

  Merrick withdrew his hand and slowly nodded. It was hopeless. She would never see. Without saying a word, he left her, dissolving into mist to hide alone in his Black Garden.

  * * *

  The dark blue gown Merrick materialized for her was finer than anything she’d ever seen. The sleeves were made from a sheer material, starting just off her shoulders and falling gracefully down past her wrist to hide her hands. The overlay fabric of the skirt matched the sheer fabric sleeves. The gown had a dark satin underskirt and bodice. The bodice was tight like everything else he put her in, pushing up her breasts and showcasing them with a squared neckline. The skirt swept around her body as she moved, hugging suggestively to her curves.

  Curls piled high on top of her head, cascading down the back in long ringlets. Blue ribbons threaded through her hair. It was a fashion she’d never seen, but so were most of the clothes Merrick chose for her. A sapphire necklace clasped her neck, pulled tight around her throat. The heavy stones pressed into her. A matching ring graced her index finger and two dainty blue shoes were on her feet.

  “The guests arrive.”

  Juliana shivered at Merrick’s low words. She turned to look at him, surprised to see he didn’t wear all black. His tight breeches and shirt were still that color, but he wore a long sleeveless overtunic that was much like he’d worn the first day she saw him in Bellemare’s side yard. It hung open in the front, falling to the ground like a cape. The black material was embroidered with dark blue, the front held together by two silver chains that draped over his chest. The upturned collar framed his face. Leather bound back the sides of his long hair, winding down the length from his temples to just above his waist. A band of silver wrapped his forehead disappearing beneath his hair. A blue gem shone from the center of the crown.