by Ella Fields
I withheld the wince, barely able to imagine the horrific pain that would’ve followed him to his dying breath. It was nothing more than he deserved. “Good.”
With flat smiles, my queen’s favored guards saw me out of the gates to my waiting horse. They then returned inside, leaving me atop the highest hill of the city with my heart locked in the fortress behind me.
The laces of my boots slapped at the ground, my feet reluctant as they carried me downhill.
Some merchants tipped their hats or offered food, but I kept my attention fixed forward, River’s reins in hand as he kept stride beside me.
A flash of yellow snatched my attention. Truin stood outside her apartment between the two guards at her door.
I slowed, and she rushed over, her lips pressed tight. “You’re leaving? You only just got here.”
I rolled my lips, deciding with, “The queen needs a minute.”
Truin’s shoulders slumped. She knew exactly what had likely happened. “Just… don’t give up on her.”
That evoked a laugh. “I’ve been here, not giving up, for seven years. I’m not, but I know what she needs, and unfortunately, right now, that is to be alone.”
“She was raised to live that way.” The bruise around her eye was almost healed, but I knew the one residing inside, dulling her once bright eyes, would take far longer. “Alone and distrustful.”
“I know.”
“She might need it for now, but don’t leave it too long.” Looking up at the castle, she murmured, “When it continues to rain, the roof will eventually leak if not properly tended to.”
My lips wriggled, though she was right. “You look good.”
A short nod, and then she stepped back, bowing slightly. “I find I am a little more myself each time the sun rises, my lord.”
I held her eyes. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Berron walked uphill, strapping his uniform in place and holding a steaming cup of coffee. He slowed when he saw me and bobbed his head. “My lord.”
I knew the mixed blood held a little too much affection for the queen, had known it since I’d first met him, but I also knew he was no threat. “Nice hair.”
Frowning, he rubbed a hand over the sleep-rustled mess standing every which way above his head. Then he smirked. “Why, thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
Truin laughed, and that somehow made it easier to walk River to the bottom of the city and ride home.
Landen and Kash were perched upon the divan and armchair in the sitting room, the former reading a book, and the latter staring into space. “Good to see you making good use of your eternal lives.”
Kash blinked as though he’d been asleep with his eyes wide open. It wouldn’t shock me. “He returns.”
“Don’t act as though you’re surprised.”
Landen tossed the book onto the side table, stretching his arms above his head. “I heard our queen made quite a mockery of the male species.”
I tore off my sweat-damp shirt, using it to wipe the journey’s dust from my face. A mistake, I realized belatedly as I waded into the kitchen. Her scent was all over it, now burning my skin. “No, she made an example of what happens when you not only cross her but also take advantage of any female.”
Landen stood in the doorway, watching me chug from a jug of milk while I prayed the erection that’d arrived from her scent died. “You are back far earlier than we predicted.”
“What he means to say is, we were pondering whether to package half your things and have them sent to the castle.” Kash couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he waited for me to explain.
“No need.” I dragged my hand over my mouth. “Yet.”
Landen scented the air. “She’s all over you.”
“That doesn’t always mean good things with her majesty,” Kash drawled.
I was tempted to throw the milk jug at his head but refrained. Just. “Mind your tongue.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll cut it out and have it sent to her as a token of my affection.”
His laughter was louder than any I’d heard from him in the last decade.
I blinked, smiling as I turned for the pantry. “Something wrong with your home?” I rummaged through it, grabbed a loaf of bread and some cheese and closed the door.
They shared a cottage in the forest, behind the fat trunk of the largest tree.
It had belonged to Dace and Landen’s mother. After she’d been captured and killed, the three males had stayed with me until the patrols lessened, and it was safe for them to return.
“It’s not half as interesting as yours.” Landen stole half the loaf, splitting it and passing some to Kash.
We ate in silence for long minutes. I drained a jug of water to wash down the bread and cheese. “What of the wolves? Any news?”
“Nothing,” Kash said, chewing a clump of bread. “Last I heard, the Sun Kingdom delivered those warriors. They were seen heading south again straight after.”
Nova chose then to enter the kitchen, and with a glance at the males, they sighed and left.
She was well aware of what they were. For although I had lost my affections for her, I still trusted her to a certain degree. She’d have sold them out long ago if she wanted to.
But they were her friends, too. She didn’t have many of those left.
“You’re back early.”
If I received another comment like that, I was going to snap. Keeping my tone aloof, I said, “So I am.”
“I heard what happened,” she said. “To the queen’s personal witch.”
She was more than the queen’s witch, and we both knew it. Diminishing their relationship kept her across the line, though. Firmly and forever in the wrong, as many would likely think.
I didn’t bother defending her. I felt no need. She was who she was, and only those close enough to her would be fortunate enough to see all she was for themselves.
I found I preferred less people knowing her in that way. Selfish, maybe. But I didn’t much care.
“She fares as well as can be expected.”
“I heard she was a virgin.”
I shook my head. “Nova.”
“Sorry.” With a sigh, she flopped onto a stool. “I just… it’s horrible.”
I hummed in agreement. “They met the end they deserved, though it won’t remove the damage entirely.”
Running a finger over the wooden countertop, Nova glanced up at me beneath her lashes. “When is my turn?”
Confused, I stared at her for a beat until it dawned on me what she meant.
A memory of us hiding in fields of wildflowers outside the forest warmed my mind. I hated that I’d been hurting her. I hated that she’d played me for a fool. But most of all, I was determined to make all this right, as best I could anyway.
“You won’t be trialed,” I said, knowing Audra would not think it. “But we need to terminate the marriage.”
“Blackmail.” Nova released a quiet, humorless laugh. Seeing that I was serious, her smile slipped.
After a heavy moment, she stood from the stool and snatched the bread from in front of me. “Don’t worry, after careful consideration, I’ve decided there’s no way in darkness I’d want to remain in a marriage with someone who’s linked to someone else, let alone that of a psychopath queen.”
“I am sorry,” I said, meaning it.
“Yeah,” she said, sniffing. “Me too, for even if I hadn’t left, this still would’ve happened. You, finding yourself chained to a queen that will never make you her king.” At that, her lip curled as she eyed me up and down, and turned to leave.
I didn’t stop her.
Audra
The sun and moon rotated, dragging days and nights with them.
Zad had been right. The ceaseless pit of yearning only grew. A hunger unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
And nothing, no amount of wine or food or time could sate it. Each minute without him, it worsened, drivi
Interest in Berron, in any other male, evaporated. No one else would do. Nothing else would suffice. Not even taking care of myself every night to thoughts of him.
Only him.
Only he would do.
His own hunger was akin to a shadow that loomed at my back, inside my chest, and reflected my own feelings back at me.
“You wanted to see me?” Truin asked.
Turning away from the roaring fire, I motioned for her to close the door. Watching as she crossed the room and folded herself into a red velvet armchair, I took note of her hair, which was back atop her head, the golden strands curled into a large braided bun.
“I’m okay.” She pressed her hands into her lap, her pale yellow skirts swallowing them.
“Your lies offer no comfort,” I said, walking to the small table where a fresh vase of red roses sat.
Truin said nothing as I plucked three from the water, ripping the stems off and tossing them to the ground.
She tipped her chin up when I stood over her, watching with inquisitive eyes as I wove them into the mess she’d made atop her head. “How do I stop this?”
“What is it you wish to stop?”
I felt my nostrils flare. “Don’t play when you know exactly what I mean.”
“Your linking with the lord.” I stepped back, inspecting the flowers’ positions, then stepped forward to fuss with one. “I’ve heard it can gnaw deep. Their absence. After a time.”
“It is no wonder that some who lose a linked one end themselves.” For the briefest moment, I wondered whether my father had linked, and if that could be the reason for his unstable mind.
As if knowing, Truin said in a gentle voice, “He never linked, my queen. Not that I’ve heard of.”
“Stop that.” She smirked when I moved back again. “Better.”
Her smirk crept into a smile. “Thank you. And I don’t know what to tell you, other than you cannot remove a link once it’s been forged by both parties.”
“I do not wish to remove it.” The very idea made me ill. “I wish to smother the…” My nose crinkled, and I turned to the snow-dusted windows. “The intensity.”
“It is rather early for snow,” she said, knowing why it’d arrived sooner.
“Exactly.” The last thing I needed was for anyone to assume I couldn’t get a handle on my powers, my feelings. To assume I was still unfit to rule.
“I’ll talk to Gretelle. I’m sure there must be something, though it is bound to have side effects.”
“A relief, in comparison.”
A bang on the doors had us both looking that way as Mintale entered. “Apologies, Majesty.” He bowed. “I came as quick as I could.”
I scowled at his ruddy cheeks. “So tell me already.”
“The king,” he said, and I felt my next breath disintegrate in my throat. “The king is on his way.”
Truin made a noise that threatened to shatter my teeth, they clenched so hard. “Alone?”
“He journeys with three of his most trusted guards.” Mintale offered a grim smile Truin’s way. “They will reach the city in but a few hours.”
Truin was already leaving, and I cursed, rushing after her. “Stop.”
She did, her eyes tear soaked as she faced me. “I am sorry, my queen, but I must.”
I searched her features, the pale hue to her skin, and felt my shoulders sag with defeat. With a glance over my shoulder at Azela, I nodded, and she immediately followed the witch to see her home.
“Stay with her until further notice.”
She turned to bow quickly, then turned back, rushing to keep up with Truin’s hurried pace.
To Mintale, I said, “Fetch me some cloves as quick as possible.”
He didn’t need to ask why. He’d been walking on eggshells all my life, but it was even worse these past few weeks. “Right away, my queen.”
In a golden cloak that swung snowflakes to the ground, he sauntered into the entry chamber with his personal guard at his back. “Quite an entrance,” I murmured.
“Quite the reception,” he said, eyeing the few people standing by me. Mintale, Ainx, and Berron. “Or lack thereof.”
“Next time, send more warning.” I moved forward, my hands folded before me. “Or better yet, wait for an invitation.”
His smile was knives and poison. “I’ve a feeling I’d have been waiting forever.”
He wasn’t wrong, and the way his smile flattened said he knew it.
Mintale shifted, then scurried forward to take the king’s cloak. “Refreshments await in the sitting room, my king.”
With a bow, Mintale stepped back, but the king’s gaze stayed fixed on me.
I gave him nothing but my blandest expression, and then trailed him to the sitting room.
Our guards waited outside, as per both our instruction, and I took the seat across from Raiden. Crossing my legs, I tapped my nails on the arm of the chair. “Care to tell me what this visit is about?”
Slouching back, he expelled a breath, running a hand over his hair. “Lovely weather.” I didn’t so much as breathe when he said, “A little early for snow, isn’t it?”
“I asked you a question.”
After studying me for a moment that never seemed to end, he leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. “I thought it time we finally try this marriage on for size.”
“We have,” I said, tone crisp. “Twice. It doesn’t fit.”
“A valiant effort on your part.” He paused for emphasis. “The first time.”
“You get no second chances with me.”
He dragged his tongue over his plump upper lip. “Is that so?” I didn’t bother answering, and he huffed. “Well, I don’t surrender easily.”
“Stubborn beasts never do.”
His laughter echoed throughout the room, and he sat back, grinning. “So, am I to take the right side of the bed? Or the left?”
My upper lip curled, and I sneered.
My fingers curved around the frosted petals of the rose, and I exhaled, throwing warm air over it to help it thaw. Blood red softened in my hand, and I moved on to the next.
The king had made himself at home, and in doing so, it no longer felt like my own. Another entry to add to the rather long list of reasons I loathed him.
How I’d loved him, I wasn’t entirely sure. Though if I looked closely at what I felt for the lord of the east, then I had to wonder if what I’d once felt for Raiden was even love at all.
True love was the coupling of souls, and Raiden couldn’t offer his even if he tried.
I highly doubted he knew enough of his own in order to do so.
“You cannot avoid me forever.”
“I can if I so please,” I muttered, heading to the rear courtyard, my black cloak curling around me.
Raiden’s footsteps crunched in the snow behind me. “How is your friend?”
“Her name is Truin.” And I hadn’t seen her since the king’s arrival. I wouldn’t go to her even though I wanted to, knowing that she would fear the king might follow. “And she is as well as can be expected.”
It’d been two days of the same thing. I continued to live my life as though he wasn’t a pest I couldn’t be rid of as he ignored my attempts by planting himself within my line of vision every few hours.
Inside, I handed my cloak to Mintale, who nodded at both of us, and then closed the door on the cold.
“Would it help if I paid her a visit?” he asked, hesitant. “I would like to apologize, profusely, and to explain that I never would’ve permitted such vulgarity.”
At the base of the steps leading to my rooms, I spun to glare at him. “You stay away. The last thing she needs right now are any reminders of what happened.”
Raiden’s lips pursed, but he nodded. “I understand.”
Searching his grass green eyes, I saw he was trying to, and that maybe, he really did feel wretched about what’d happened to her.
“What will it take?” he called as I began to climb the steps. “For you to at least give me your company. To give me a chance.”
I couldn’t give him an answer because there wasn’t one.
Inside my rooms, I sat upon the windowsill, my lips wrapped around Zad’s pipe.
Cloves were not the only thing I had to smoke. Truin had sent a leafy plant with her grandmother that weakened the desire to run through the city, through the villages beyond, and into the woods to the estate on the other side.
Though it mellowed the urge, it still remained. It was just easier to kick away.
Snuffing the pipe, I laid it down and dragged my finger over the damp glass of the window. Through the line, I saw treetops sway in the distance.
This was what needed to happen. Raiden as king, my husband, and Zad at his manor with his own wife.
It was the reason I’d sent him away, yet I couldn’t bring myself to do what I’d so desperately insisted I needed to and move on as our continent needed.
A knock on the doors lifted my head, and I waved my hand, opening one for Raiden to walk inside. “I brought you some soup,” he said, the door closing behind him as he crossed the fur rugs to the small table between my dressing chamber and the door. “You didn’t come to dinner,” he said. “Again.”
I looked over at him, offering a brief smile. “Not hungry.”
“You’re beginning to give me a complex.” He’d said it in jest, but I could tell that my inability to show him the time of day was beginning to wear thin.
Things could be worse. He could keep me contained in this marriage and make my life utterly miserable at the same time. He could tire of my antics and arrange to have me assassinated as he had first planned to before meeting me. He could end the marriage and ruin the fragile peace we’d managed to find with his return.
There were many ways in which this could be worse, but he was doing none of them.
Instead, he was offering an olive branch. A unified front. He was trying to make this work.
And I needed to quit behaving like a child and remember who I damn well was.
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