by JL Madore
My skin got hot as the hair on my nape stood straight up. “Why would you do this for me?” She looked over at Zale and I had to laugh. “You know Zale’s got a thing for me and you want me out of the way.”
“Please,” she scoffed. “He’s not interested in you any more than a man watching a dog fight. You’re a novelty he doesn’t understand.”
“And can’t possess,” I said. “He’s not used to being slighted by Eligibles. I’m not part of the collection he’s built for himself.”
“Two is hardly a collection.” She swept a wayward curl and tucked it back in place.
“Two?” I snorted again. “No, he’s up in the double digits. According to the guards, he sneaks them out behind the bronze wall and gets his grind on quite regularly. I actually stumbled upon him myself the first morning I was here.”
“You’re lying,” she snapped. An unattractive vein pulsed beside her eye. “You would say anything to cause trouble.”
“I guess that wasn’t you then, moaning and panting as the sun came up.”
She turned on me, her pale purple gaze hardening with fury. “Zale loves me. He told me I would be head-wife—”
“You too? He told me the same thing. Said I intrigue him beyond the others.” I laughed as she raised her hand to cover her mouth. “Oh, please. Is that the line he used on you? Come on, you’ve got to see that he’s a player, right?”
“Get away from me, you . . . you freak.” Freya Love’s veneer of perfection cracked like a fault line. She squeezed her eyes tight and when she opened them, her mask was back in place. “If you think I’ll let you ruin what Zale and I have, I promise you . . . you’ll find yourself on the unpleasant end of a tragic but fatal accident.”
I had to laugh out loud. “Let me get this straight. You’ve heard the allegations that I’m the person who stalked a senior Strati in the dead of night, evaded an army of soldiers and left four men with their throats hanging open and your first thought is to blackmail me with the threat of violence? Really? You’re going with that?”
While I was still chuckling over that one, a middle-aged man in a scarlet chiton stopped directly in front of us. “Princess Grace,” he said. “Would you care to dance?”
“No. I’m fine, thank you.”
“Please, it would be my honor,” he said, raising his hand.
I was about to decline a second time when the curled fingers of the hand being offered caught my attention. Upon closer inspection, I saw the crooked bridge of the man’s nose. It was the priest who sat beside me at the luncheon on my first day here. Zale scowled at me and suddenly, there was nothing I wanted more than a tour around the ballroom dance floor. “On second thought, I’d be delighted.”
With our raised hands linked and his crippled hand at my back, we merged with the flow of the crowd. After the initial adaptations to move as one with a stranger, we relaxed into a rhythm. The rise and fall of the music pulled us along like a gentle wave. For just a moment I let my fear for my boys slip away and took a moment to really breathe.
Reign had insisted on formal dance lessons for Bruin, Julian, Jade and me from the time we hit puberty. ‘You’ll thank me one day,’ he’d said. ‘Treaties and negotiations get hammered out as often on the dance floor as they do in a war room. Politics is nothing but a fucking dance . . . and a headache.’
When the song ended and the clergyman retained possession of my hand, I assumed we were going again. His eyes were whiskey brown and kind. Maybe I could trust him with my questions. “Uh . . . would you happen to know of a priest of the Fae Trinity Temple formerly known as Rowan?”
We began to move for the second time, his brow creased but his smile remained in place. “Perhaps,” he said. His voice was even but his body tensed noticeably beneath my hands. “What would you want of him?”
“Nothing serious, I . . . uh, was just hoping to ask him a few questions.”
We stopped. As the other dancers whirled past us, he squeezed my hand tighter and dropped the hold on my back. I met his gaze and after more than a decade of living with warriors, I read the minute he decided to reach into the fold of his tunic for a weapon.
I clasped my hand around his wrists and twisted. A knife. Nice. “That’s a lot of steel for a priest, don’t you think?”
He struggled against my hold, eyes wide. “You’re stronger than you look, Princess.”
“I’ve heard that. Now, how ‘bout you drop the weapon.”
“Or you could let go of my arm before you snap my wrist, and I’ll slip the knife into your skirt as planned.”
“Planned? What plan? Who—”
“Your followers.” He leaned closer and I caught a good look at his priest’s collar. It was actually a mourning band, the same as the one Bay made for me. “Those of us who think you’re the one. The one who will bring change.”
I searched his gaze and didn’t catch any deception. “Nice words, Padre, but flattery won’t get you under my skirt. I’m not that kind of girl.”
A wry smile crept across his face. “Reaching under a lady’s skirt isn’t an everyday occurrence for me either, but I smuggled this knife in for you—regardless of the danger—and we are beginning to draw attention.” Zale was making his way toward us from one direction, while two senior Strati eyeballed me from another. “Please, Lexi, trust me to do this.”
His familiarity took me aback. “I don’t know you.”
“True,” he said, stepping against me, our hands concealed between our bodies. “But you know my namesake, biblically by what I gather. Help him, Lexi. Help both of them. Bring my godchildren home where they belong.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
If Bacchus had been in the building, he would have found the progression of the evening a true and accurate tribute to drunken revelry. After the dancing began the feast. A heavy aroma of spices and grilled meat rose up in thick swirls from the six, long tables running the length of the dining hall. Golden rainbows arced from teardrop crystals in the chandeliers as glasses were filled and refilled with rich amber, burgundy and russet brown liquors. The roar of slurred voices and laughter blended and rose to a cacophony of merriment.
Zale sat to my left, soaking in the warmth of the pre-wedding spotlight. Social charmer or manipulative attention-whore? Whatevs. I had his number.
As mesmerizing as it was, I studied the Nobles as the flowing spirits worked their intoxicating magic and loosened lips. The women drank with slightly more reserve, tittering and gossiping, and then running to the loo in packs of swirling gowns.
I sat quietly, drinking what was poured for me, gathering intel, listening for any hint of where prisoners might be taken or held. Apparently, though, the crowd I was seated with was more interested in the restoration of the main square’s bell tower and the ongoing debate of whether the new steps being laid at the Temple should be marble or orichalcum.
I tipped back my glass and the moment it was empty, someone swooped in and refilled it.
I stilled my jumping leg under the table. The presentation of the couples was next and then, once the dancing resumed, I would be free to slip away unnoticed.
“—I know, such a shame for the people of the Fifth sector. I heard. . . .”
My focus shifted to the nearest six-pack of ladies floating toward the hallway. I lifted my napkin and set it on the table. Zale’s fingers tightened around my wrist as I stood. To the other guests at the table, it might’ve looked attentive as he twisted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.
Picturing Coal scared and alone, I unclenched my fist and relaxed. I did, however, shoot him what I hoped was a clear and immediate warning disguised in refinement.
His gaze grew hard, but he eased off his grip. “Where are you off to, Princess?”
“Just freshening up before the big presentations.” He released my hand, the smug look of triumph irking me more than I could take. With a charmer of a smile I met the gaze of the table. “ And I need to stretch my legs. My ass is fucking numb. You�
��d think the Queen could spring for chairs with a bit more cush, wouldn’t you?”
I smiled politely as the ladies gasped and the Noble males looked to Zale with sympathy. His Lir-ness excused himself and grabbed my elbow as we made our way to the hall.
“Really?” I said, with a laugh. “What trouble am I going to cause between the dining hall and the ladies’ room?”
He scowled. “I’m just keeping an eye on my investment. You’ve fast become the talk of Attalos and I aim to make sure that works for me, not against.”
There was no sign of the feminine six-pack in the hall and I prayed they were in the washroom. I reached for the handle of the door but he still had a hold on me. “Will I be permitted to piss on my own, or will you be escorting me into my stall?”
He released my elbow and scrubbed at the back of his neck. “You have three minutes before I come in after you.”
The outer powder room was buzzing with primping ladies, but this wasn’t the cluster of bodies I was looking for. As they recognized me, the room silenced to a dead hush. Nice. I pushed into the washroom and cursed. Nothing. There was no one here. Deciding to take advantage of the momentary solitude I used the bathroom and washed up.
The next half-hour was going to be the worst part, standing up in front of a ballroom full of people while they formally announce both Freya and I accept Lord Dirtbag of Knobsbury as our husband. Gods. Save me.
My head began to swim as my skin flushed hot. I bent over the sink and splashed water on my face.
Dining with the Nobles had taught me one thing. When I was married to Zale I’d be in a much better position to change things. The door opened as I patted my face dry and I rolled my eyes.
“The presentations are beginning,” he said. “Time for the performance of your life.”
I swallowed the bit of barf that rose into my mouth and forced a smile. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”
Zale held the door open and waited for me to exit. The host’s voice carried from the ballroom into the hall. He was announcing the Eligible allocations. I froze. Could I do this? There had to be another way. I couldn’t stomach the idea of spending one moment alone with this prick.
“Pull yourself together Gracie,” Zale hissed, gesturing to the open door of the ballroom. “Unless you want another piece of your scorch removed. The boy still functions with his tongue cut out, but you never know what I might remove next.
“What? You—”
Zale smiled and waggled his perfectly arched brow. “He’ll never interrupt me again.”
My hands were around his throat before the thought even registered. I swept his feet and held his body pinned beneath mine on the hallway marble. I watched from some detached distance. His olive complexion deepened to red.
“You cut out his tongue?”
How could anyone do such a thing to a little boy? Zale’s eyes widened. His fingers scrabbled at my wrists. As the gods stood witness, I would squeeze the bastard’s last breath out between my palms. “You are so fucking dead. When I get finished with you—”
Strong hands yanked me by the waist and lifted me off Zale’s body. I struggled against the Strati’s hold, massive arms restraining me from behind. The soldier crushed my arms against my chest and pinned them. I tried to head butt him, but he anticipated it. I kicked at his kneecaps, but he shifted and evaded. “Calm yourself, Lexi,” the soldier hissed in my ear. “Be calm.”
Ydorus. I stopped struggling and he loosened his hold. Zale braced his hands on the floor and gasped for air. He looked near death. Shit. What had I done?
The blood pumping hard through my body rushed from my head. Ydorus pulled me tight against his massive chest and kept me from keeling over. Shit. People heard the commotion and were rubbernecking it from the doorway. They’d seen me try to kill Zale. He would go crazy over this.
My soon-to-be husband staggered to his feet, hands curled in fists, thighs engaged as if he were about to spring forward. When he caught sight of our audience he straightened and moved closer. “You’re lucky we’re expected inside,” he whispered, his voice a hoarse croak. “Make no mistake, once you’re mine, you will suffer.” He wrenched my elbow and yanked me toward the door. “Now, paint on a smile or your little bastard can kiss his arms goodbye.”
The next hour passed in a blur of nausea. Images in my head flashed in a never-ending loop of nightmare: Coal being dismembered, Terran missing and bleeding somewhere, me trapped under Zale’s weight and powerless to fight back, Rowan being used as his soul died a little more, Elani being stripped and raped while my mother laughed—
“Stop growling,” Freya said, smiling like a cover model at the dancers on the floor before us. “You are such a freak.”
I grasped the arms of my chair. Was I growling? “Look, I need to get out of here.”
“Good. Go.”
“Yeah, like Zale’s going to let me leave.”
“Honestly, if it gets rid of you, I’ll take care of Zale.” Freya rose from the line of Eligibles and floated down the four steps. With her hand extended toward Zale, he broke from his conversation and met. He leaned forward to allow Freya to speak into his ear and after a moment he straightened and signaled to a couple Strati to follow.
Freya gathered her skirt and climbed back up to our perch looking pleased. “Fine. Zale asked those soldiers to escort you back to your suite and stand guard for the night. He said he’ll check on you in a few hours when it’s time for the ceremony.”
I hid my smile as I recognized one of the two Strati standing at attention waiting to escort me out. “Well, then I guess I’ll see you at the altar.”
Freya rolled her eyes and I practically launched myself down the stairs. My Stiletto boot caught in the train of my skirt and I tripped forward into the arms of my guard. Ydorus caught me and set my back on my feet. “Easy, Princess,” he whispered. “I got you.”
Zale saw my stumble and headed over, probably to keep me from embarrassing him. I waved him off, discreetly flipping him the finger and after straightening the hem of my bodice, made for the door. Ydorus and the other soldier walked just behind me as I strode down the hall, past the washrooms, around the corner and toward the pocket of privacy alcoves hidden behind grand tapestries of the south hall. The click of my boots drowned out the soft, heavy thud of theirs as we got some distance from the noise of the ballroom.
As we cleared another corner I spun and Ydorus responded exactly as I’d hoped. He wrapped his arms around the other Strati while I clocked him a solid right hook to the head. Within seconds we’d dragged him into an alcove, bound him with a drapery tie, and left him to sleep it off. Back in the corridor, I ensured that my styled hair hadn’t moved so much as an inch and lunged toward my friend.
Muscular arms picked me off the floor. “Oh Lexi, we were so frightened for you.”
Just as my boots once again met the floor, a handsome, dark haired Noble exited the draped alcove right beside us. I recognized him. He and his spindly little wife had been seated just down and across the table from me. I straightened myself and Ydorus cursed. Cue wide eyes and raised brows all around. Oh, shit, if he tells Zale—
His tryst partner stepped out from behind the curtain and it was definitely not the Noble’s wife. In fact, this man had also been sitting at our table. Seeing us, the two gentlemen righted themselves and flushed fifty shades of scarlet.
“Princess . . . I, uh—”
I held up my hand. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”
“Uh, thank you, Princess. And you as well.” The aristocrat smiled in a way that didn’t reach his eyes, but recognizing their dismissal the two made tracks. Ydorus stood beside me, eyes front, hand on the grip of his pain stick. When the two were gone, I tugged on his chest plate, stepped into the alcove and drew the drape.
“What if they say something?” Ydorus whispered.
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about them, they won’t risk a scandal. Okay. First tell me. Do you know where they’re k
eeping Coal?” His face screwed up and my heart stopped. “Have they hurt him? I’ll fucking kill them—”
“They don’t have Coal,” he whispered. “We do.”
“But Zale said—” I closed my eyes and fought the scream trying to peel from my throat. I had bought their lies because it was too dangerous not too. “You’re sure Coal’s safe?”
Ydorus nodded. “Estes and I secured them ourselves.”
“Them? Terran’s with him?”
“Yes. He was torn between staying with Coal and coming for you. We all agreed you would want him watching Coal.”
Tears welled and spilled as I drew my first deep breath since the Strati took me from Rowan’s swordsmith’s shop. “How,” I choked. “How did you avoid the Strati?”
“Before they took you, Rowan called Terran to give an update on you and Eury. When the Strati burst in on him we overheard everything and Estes moved them out to the Earth ring. Trust me, Coal will be protected. He’s with Terran, among his own people, and they know he belongs to you.”
Knowing that Coal and Terran were safely tucked away changed everything. It had been paralyzing to worry what was being done to them and how my words or actions would affect them. Gods, it was exhausting trying to keep from making mistakes. My heart ached for Rowan. He’d been doing the same thing for four years. It had to stop.
After making sure the coast was clear, I headed straight for the servants’ quarters. “You and I are going to find Elani and get her and Rowan out of here.”
“And then what?”
There was no holding back the smile on that one. “Then we’re going to kick some major Strati ass.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Ydorus and I Nancy-Drewed our way through the stark servant areas on the other side of the palace. As we strode along, I recognized the main corridor as the one Terran had brought me down on that first morning, a week ago.