“And what about you?”
“I have no excuse, Excellency. It was my failing. I allowed myself to get distracted,” Gypsy offered, knowing it wouldn’t be enough.
His face was less than inch from hers and she could smell the familiar reside of whiskey on his breath, but she dared not look up from the floor.
“Don’t you idiots realize this is exactly what can ruin your careers? You were such an embarrassing disgrace, the Grand Duke walked out, for gods’ sake!” Gavin roared. “Both of you fucking humiliated me and everyone else who wasted their time, energy and effort training you.”
When the enraged beast was finally out of her face, she stole a few glances at him while he stomped around the room. Gavin was yelling and swearing with such blind ferocity, she could barely understand him. He went back and forth between English and AEssyrian. A few times he snarled out some old ghetto slang that she wasn’t familiar with. Whatever it meant, she got the gist.
Gavin finally stopped yelling but continued to pace, then he paused and looked back at Kharon. “Do you know what the fuck is going on here?”
Kharon looked at them like a father whose children have gravely disappointed him. She felt terrible. Not only had she and Falken made fools of themselves, but now their dirty little not-so-secret was going to be aired in front of her father.
“They have a relationship, Excellency. There is love between them.”
“What?”
“It’s my doing, sir,” Falken said. “I have always had feelings for Gypsy. I didn’t understand how deep they ran, until we were together.”
Gavin tossed his hands up in disgust then looked at Kharon. “None of this bothers you?”
Kharon studied Falken, who kept his head down in obedience. “It did at first, but no one can come between Gypsy and me. It doesn’t matter how much she loves him, she will always love me more.”
Gavin folded his arms and leaned against the edge of the desk. “Be honest with me, Gypsy. Is what he says true?”
“It is. I won’t deny I have feelings for Falken and they are stronger than I realized. But my love for Kharon is unbreakable. We share something I will never have with anyone else.” It pained her to say it because she knew the truth hurt Falken.
Kharon sighed and rubbed his brow. “I’m sorry, Gavin. I should have changed the match list when I learned of their affair. I underestimated the strength of their attachment.”
The rage in her father diminished. “Well, now we know not to make that mistake again.”
Still glaring down at Gypsy and Falken he said, “You both may rise. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that neither of you made rank. You may get another chance with different partners, but that will depend on Augustus, who, by the way, has summoned you to his office," he said, jerking his thumb at Gypsy. “You’d best not keep him waiting any longer.”
The depression that had just finished soaking into her mind was now a flash flood throughout the rest of her body. “What does he want to talk to me for?”
“I don’t know, dear. I didn’t feel in much of a position to question him, after today’s little display of incompetence, maybe he will just demand a resignation. You had better think of what you are going to say to him when you get there. For the sake of your career, it needs to be a better story than the one you just gave me.”
Chapter 27
Augustus’ office was a converted upstairs meeting room. One of the double doors was open so Gypsy just stepped inside. The Grand Duke was sitting alone in a black armchair staring out the window with his hands folded in his lap. Gypsy could see the edges of his brightly colored tattoos peeking out from the cuffs and collar of his black uniform jacket. Having trained with him, she knew his entire torso and arms were a canvas painted with detailed depictions of torture.
Going down on one knee she bowed her head. “You wanted to see me, my lord?”
Augustus said nothing for a long time. He didn’t even move which unnerved her more than his silence.
“Close the door. Then come and sit,” he said gesturing with his index finger to an identical armchair directly across from him.
Gypsy pushed the door closed so quietly it barely made a click. Feeling ill at ease she walked over and sat on the edge of the seat stiffly, trying not to fidget. In any other situation she would have worried a thread loose from her uniform. But right now she was very afraid. The thought that the Grand Duke might attack her made her stomach queasy. An aura of anger surrounded him and he was certainly no stranger to inflicting pain. The prospect of enduring his sadistic ministrations kept her whole body still, especially her tongue and vocal chords.
The Grand Duke didn’t spare her a glance. He just continued to stare out the window at the scenery below. It was as though the buildings before him were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen, but she knew better. Augustus was strategizing. During their training sessions, he would often stare off distractedly at other things in the arena. Then out of nowhere he’d come at her with some bizarre, unorthodox assault. It was during those sessions that she got to understand him a little. She doubted anyone really understood him, but she felt like she caught a glimpse of how his brain worked and it was scary.
Finally, the viscous absence of sound was interrupted and he spoke. “There are those among the nobility and military hierarchy that believe a woman is simply not suited to be a soldier. They say a woman’s heart is too soft and fertile to ever make her a good killer. Women love more easily and deeper than men and that makes them poorly adapted to the blood lust needed to kill on command.” He looked at her now. It was a dark, penetrating look that pierced her soul and made her burn with shame. “Today’s display was exactly the evidence they needed to validate the truth of their argument. They think this love affair you had with your opponent has ruined you and exposed the fundamental failing of any woman desiring a military career. They pressed me to discharge you from service.”
Gypsy barely breathed. Was this it? Was her career finished? She wanted to blurt out the question but was too terrified of the answer. So she settled on letting her head hang forward and taking some deep breaths to ready herself for whatever came.
“Do you know what I told them?”
“No, my lord,” she said in a hoarse whisper without looking up.
“I told them no. You deserve one more chance.”
Lifting her head, she tried to collect enough saliva in her dry mouth to swallow. “Thank you, my lord.”
“So this is how you will get your second chance while redeeming yourself in the process. I have issued a challenge to Megolyth for the throne and he has accepted. But it won’t be me fighting him, it will be you, Gypsy. You will be entered into the throne match as my champion. If you lose, I will step down as regent and surrender the realm back to Megolyth. We are second cousins through marriage, he will publicly forgive me and my status as a Grand Duke will remain unchanged. But a loss will undoubtedly mean death for you and everyone in your family, with the exception of your mother. Megolyth’s first order of business will be to rid himself of your father and any of his blood kin. But if you win, you will avenge Megolyth’s two murder attempts on your father, rescue the empire from certain ruin, and bring honor to yourself once again. I will also elevate you to the rank of Captain.”
The idea of this match was such a shock slight tremors began running through her hands. Another one of her frequent challenges was that her mouth worked much easier than her brain.
“Forgive me, my lord, but are you crazy? For the life of me I can’t understand why you would do such a thing. There are tons of warriors here who are much better in combat than me. What about my father? Besides, why the hell should you care whether or not I redeem myself when the entire empire is at stake, not to mention the lives of my family? I’m sorry for questioning you, my lord, but this is a terrible idea.”
For the first time since she had entered, Augustus didn’t look mad. His lips pulled back into a calm smile which, like Gavi
n and Rakon, made him look even more menacing. It definitely didn’t inspire any warm, fuzzy feelings. Then a deep laugh tumbled from his throat. “You know that I don’t owe you an explanation, correct?”
“Yes, my lord. I know,” she said nervously chewing her bottom lip. “I just don’t under—”
Augustus held up his hand for silence so she stopped talking and stared down at her boots.
“I said I don’t owe you an explanation; however I do owe you a debt of gratitude for making the birth of my son possible. So for that reason, I will tell you the reason behind my decision.”
Pausing for a few uncomfortable moments, his gaze burned right through her and she squeezed and twisted her fingers fearfully as they rested in her lap. “I know you, Gypsy. I have held you in my arms and stripped you down to the raw, bloody essence of your being. You’ve withstood torment soldiers three times your size and strength couldn’t handle. Never before or since meeting you have I seen anyone with more inner strength and endurance. That wasn’t you down there today. I don’t know what happened and I don’t care, but it will never happen again in my presence.”
The threat was like a spear stabbing between her shoulder blades. Gypsy had no doubt Augustus would probably kill her himself if she ever did something like that again.
“I understand, my lord. And I’m sorry.”
“As for your father, it is true he could probably best Megolyth in the challenge. Unfortunately, there is no command I could issue that would prevent him from killing the dethroned sovereign. But that’s only one reason he’s not under consideration. The other has to do with something much more important.” He looked back out the window and she wondered if he was done.
His lunacy is going to get us all killed, Gypsy thought. She was so panicked her head was buzzing like a hornet’s nest. It was extremely difficult to keep quiet, but Augustus would have dismissed her if he was finished. So she waited.
Turning his head, his sea green eyes bore into her very soul, he said, “You are a better choice than even the most seasoned warrior for this match and I’ll tell you why. If Megolyth is beaten in the arena by another warrior, he will simply try again for the throne next year. In the meantime he will become impatient. He’ll rally some of the other realms to attack the empire and try to take the throne by force, and we will be embroiled in yet another war. I am already sick of the fighting. I was often outspoken regarding our attack on the Triumvirate last year. It was a waste of lives, time, and money. It was a war fueled only by Megolyth’s pride and stupidity. Think about it; he dragged us into a war over a deranged, murderess whore he forced your father to obtain for him. It was his own cousins who tricked him. Yet once again the emperor failed to take responsibility and address his shortcomings. Instead he held his prize general responsible.”
The very mention of the war seemed to agitate the Grand Duke. “At any rate I am not interested in rebuilding this empire, just to have it torn apart in a war. In order to destroy that possibility, I need to discredit Megolyth. I need to make him look weak in the eyes of any who would help him. That, my love, can only be achieved by you. You are the only suitable opponent for this task. Once he is beaten in a throne challenge by a woman, no one will ever take him seriously again. He will be offered no allies, given no arms, and disappear into obscurity. Do you understand now? Or is this still a terrible idea thought up by a madman? You may speak freely. Although I’m sure I don’t need to encourage you in that regard.”
A wave of stress washed over Gypsy. She just couldn’t keep still so she got up and paced the floor next to the two chairs. “I understand. I’m not saying I agree with it, but I get it. You’ve left me no other option but to win.”
“I expect nothing less. Megolyth contentiously negotiated the date of the match. It will be one month from today. I’m sorry but that was the best I could do. When I told him who I had selected as champion he was so insulted he refused to allow any more time. Don’t give in to your insecurities and you will beat him, Gypsy. That is assured. Whether or not you succumb to another failure is entirely up to you.”
With that he turned his attention back to the window. Gypsy stopped pacing, gave a short bow and headed toward the door.
“Oh, and Gypsy,” he added.
She stopped and turned. “Yes, my lord?”
“Don’t you dare kill him, unless it’s unavoidable?”
A headache was starting over the bridge of her nose. “I don’t understand. What’s the difference if he yields or dies? The outcome is the same, isn’t it?”
“No. If he dies then he is merely a corpse. If he lives then he serves as an example to others who might challenge me for the throne. You are fortunate our society is primitive enough that being beaten by a female is still a fate worse than death. And we both want him to suffer, don’t we?”
Chapter 28
Gavin’s favorite bar was loud and packed. He was drunk, which wasn’t unusual; however he was quite a bit drunker than he’d been in a long time. But instead of soothing his emotions like he wanted, the alcohol only made his nerves tender and raw with regret. Running his fingers through his hair, he felt sweat leaking from his skin like a farmer’s beast of burden. He was only vaguely aware of Kharon talking to him. Wishing that motherfucker would shut the hell up, he tried not to contribute to the discussion. Sometimes he really hated Kharon. That bastard was a sanctimonious mile from what Caraculla had been. Maybe someday Gypsy would see that and trade up. But since he had encouraged the marriage, there was no one to blame but himself. Well, that and the blasted Primal Fever.
“What?” Gavin yelled louder than he’d intended.
“It’s been a long day and Gypsy needs to train in the morning,” Kharon shouted over the din of the bar patrons. “Why don’t we all go home?”
“Fuck that,” Gavin growled. He glanced at Desmond, sitting to his right in the booth. His son looked just as drunk as he felt. He was in that morose mood Gavin so hated. Always brooding, that boy, even when his bitch of a wife was around and in one of her rare good moods. Gavin wondered how solid Desmond’s marriage was when he was always stressed and never seemed to be truly happy.
Harlan often teased him, saying he and Scarlet were just alike, bitchy and high maintenance. The very thought was ludicrous. He and that flame-haired cunt were nothing alike. But Gavin’s dark mood had more to do with Gypsy and Missy than with Scarlet or anyone else. At least Scarlet was safe. Gypsy wasn’t, nor was Missy.
The possibility of losing both his daughters reverberated through him. If fate turned bad, the devastation would be inconceivable. Harlan would never recover from the loss of both her children, and the worst of it was he wouldn’t be able to console her because he’d be dead, along with Desmond and Kharon.
Remorse engulfed him. This match with Megolyth and Gypsy was his doing. Not only had he led his daughter down this dangerous road by training her, his own arrogance had caused him to falter in Megolyth’s game of obedience. He thought back to Gypsy’s teen years and wondered if he had stood his ground—forbidden her from pursuing a warrior’s life—perhaps she would have eventually given up and settled down. As it stood now, she was going to be slaughtered by the man Gavin hated the most in this world—Megolyth.
What the fuck is Augustus thinking? he silently raged. The nobles were an odd ilk; he could understand this match being staged for their amusement. But the Grand Duke had put the throne on the line, which made no sense to Gavin. Was his daughter’s humiliation and death more important than keeping the realm safe?
A few months back, Gavin had received an odd invitation to dine with Augustus without the presence of the younger man’s father, Grand Duke Molitov von Goth. Augustus had always been somewhat of an enigma to Gavin. He’d known the man all his life, but they’d never been more than passing acquaintances. So Gavin was both intrigued and leery when he received the invitation. Rather than offer any offense he’d accepted, meeting the younger Grand Duke at his secluded hunting estate. The meal had
been accompanied by a rather cryptic conversation. Augustus had made it clear that he was concerned about the prosperity of the empire and would do whatever was necessary to guard it from further mismanagement.
To Gavin’s surprise, Augustus asked him to stage a coup without coming right out and saying it. Gavin didn’t commit to anything but said he would consider every option. Having brought down his share of monarchs in the past, Gavin knew there were often unintended consequences. But Augustus was right about one thing, the empire was failing under Megolyth’s leadership. Gavin was experienced enough to know he’d end up ensnared in the upheaval one way or another. True to his word, Gavin had been mulling over what to do when everything went to hell and Megolyth had him arrested, yet again.
Gavin sipped his drink and swayed before leaning across to Gypsy. Gripping her forearm, he gave it a squeeze then gestured to Kharon with the half empty glass in his hand.
“Why don’t you take your grandmother home, put her to bed, and come back?”
Kharon shot him a venomous glare. “I’m going to ignore that, Gavin. But only because you’re stinking drunk.”
A black fury swirled in Gavin’s gut. He raised his glass in mocking salute. “So are you, madam.” Gavin needed to fight, needed someone to pay for his pain. Kharon would do nicely.
Gypsy stood. His daughter was pale, her eyes coated in fear. Gavin hated Augustus for putting so much pressure on her.
“I am way too tired for this, Gavin,” she said. “We’re gonna go.”
Gavin snorted his disgust and gave Kharon a nasty look. “Make sure to take your girlfriend with you.”
As Gavin had hoped, Kharon lost his temper and lunged across the table at him. Glasses flew in every direction, crashing to the floor, into the walls, and shattering on the tabletop. Desmond managed to rescue his drink unscathed and retreated toward the bar.
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