Korinthia pulls something metal from her dress and lunges for me with a feral look in her eyes.
Quicker than I can even flinch, Roark steps toward her and punches her so hard she is literally tossed to the side with the force of the blow, hitting the ground hard enough to knock her unconscious.
“Shit,” he says. “Maybe I could have left a little off that punch.”
“I thought it was fine,” I say, still catching my breath from the surprise of her attack.
He moves back to the main bedroom and pulls something from his pocket that he uses to tie Titus’ hands.
“What did you do to Titus?” I ask.
“I taught him not to fuck with my princess. But we need to hurry. Titus and Korinthia still have control of the royal guards. I had a handful of men fighting to buy us time, but we need to move. The main force of the guard could be here any minute, and I have an idea. Come on.”
Roark tells Kato to stay back and barricade himself inside the guest bedroom with Titus and Korinthia until we come back.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Roark puts his back to the door leading to the main hallway, raising his Blade. “We’re going to talk to the priest.”
I raise my eyebrows. “About what?”
Roark grins, dropping to one knee. “This isn’t exactly how I planned for this to happen, but... Elizabeth. Will you marry me?”
It feels like the wind is knocked from my lungs. My knees go weak, but I stay standing somehow. “I expected a bigger ring,” I joke.
Roark laughs. “Me too.”
I lean down, gripping his face and kissing him. “I will. God, yes. I’ll marry you.”
“Good, because I think you are going to have to if we want to make it out of here alive.”
I glare at him. “You make it sound like you’re only asking me because you have to.”
“I was going to wait until tomorrow, to tell the truth. But nothing about this is fake. The way I feel when I’m around you. That’s real. That’s something I never want to let go of.”
I chew my lip. “Why’s it so hard to be mad at you?”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll think of a way. We’re going to have a long time to figure it out. Come on. Stay behind me.”
I take a deep breath as he opens the door and sticks his torso out, gripping the doorframe with one hand and pointing his gun down the hall before motioning for me to follow. My heart is thundering in my chest and I feel like I can’t catch my breath, and I don’t know if it’s because the man of my dreams just asked me to marry him or if it’s because I’m not sure if we’ll survive long enough for it to happen.
We pass through several hallways without running into any resistance, and just as we’re about to turn the corner back to the main stairwell that leads down to the lobby, the sound of gunfire explodes nearby. Roark turns, shielding me with his body, then realizes no one is firing at us.
“Shit,” he says. “The fight is on the stairwell. We’ll go the back way. Come on.”
I follow him through a bedroom and down a hidden trap door. We travel with no sound but for our footsteps and the occasional pop of gunfire in the distance or the echoing ghost of a scream.
“I always thought rain would ruin my wedding day, not gunfights,” I say.
Roark turns toward me, face serious. “I’m going to give you the wedding you deserve as soon as this is over. People will talk about it for centuries. But first I’m going to make sure we’re alive to get there.”
“I wasn’t…” I say quietly. “I was just joking.”
“I know,” he says. “But I don’t want you to think this is it. You’re my princess, and soon you’ll be my queen. Our wedding will be a memory you cherish.”
“I’ll cherish it because it’s with you, Roark,” I say.
“And because it’s going to be amazing,” he says, smirking and continuing down the tunnel.
I smile at his back. Well, I would be happy either way, but having some spectacular royal wedding isn’t a point I plan to fight--I am a princess after all.
We emerge in another bedroom, and somehow manage to reach the in-palace cathedral without running into anyone except for scared, fleeing nobles.
Three priests are gathered around the altar on their knees, praying. “Up,” calls Roark, voice echoing in the large cathedral. The men stand, raising their hands when they see who it is.
“Please,” says the oldest man with the biggest hat--based on what little I know about churches, I assume the bigger the hat, the more important the guy is.
“No one is going to get hurt,” says Roark. “But one of you is going to marry me to my princess, and you’re going to give me an abbreviated version of the royal coronation ceremony. Am I clear?”
“Abbreviated?” asks Mr. Big Hat. “There’s no such procedure, my prince.”
“Now there is. Come on, we don’t have long.”
“I can’t abide by--”
Roark fires his gun, blasting out a section of stained glass a few feet behind the lead priest. The men flinch, covering their heads.
“You said no one would be hurt,” snaps one of the priests.
“And I said one of you is going to marry us.”
“I’ll do it,” says the tallest of the three with the smallest hat.
“Thomas,” snaps the lead priest. “Prince Titus promised us--”
Roark aims his gun at the man’s head. “Promised you what? Money? Promotions? Guess what? Prince Titus is bloody and tied up right now, whimpering for his mother. And once one of you fucking priests marries us, he’s going to be rotting in the dungeons, where I think he’ll have a hard time delivering on whatever he promised you.”
The tall man steps forward, opening the book on the altar.
“Good. You two are our witnesses. Do a good job and I won’t have your heads off when I become king.”
They nod sheepishly now.
The tall priest, Thomas, motions for us to stand on either side of the altar, facing each other.
“Abbreviated ceremony as well?” he asks Roark.
“Very,” says Roark. “We’ll have a do-over once we’ve planned a proper wedding.”
“Very well,” says Thomas. “You may kiss the bride.”
Roark quirks an eyebrow. “That counts?”
He nods. “The marriage pact is sealed with the kiss. The rest is just a formality.”
I stand on my tippy toes and Roark leans down so I can kiss him. I close my eyes, forgetting where we are and why we’re here for a moment, long enough to let it sink in. Roark Burkewood is my husband now. My king. And I’m his queen, at least I will be when they do the coronation ceremony. I have to admit, I would feel a twinge of sadness right now if I didn’t know the real wedding was still coming. A silly part of me wants to be the bride everyone envies, just for an evening, to wear the big puffy dress and the shoes, to have someone carry my veil and to have my moment--to finally have my moment when everything aligns and I couldn’t be happier. Except it’s not just going to be my moment. It’s going to be ours, and that makes it all the sweeter.
The doors to the cathedral burst open, revealing a squadron of at least fifty armed guards.
“In the name of Prince Titus, stand down!” shouts the captain at the front of the group.
“Coronation,” hisses Roark. “Now. Very abbreviated.”
Thomas reaches inside the altar, bringing out a golden scepter and two crowns--one gold and thick while the other is a ring of delicate silver swirls lined with glistening diamonds. He places the scepter on Roark’s shoulder, eyes darting to the group of men approaching with guns.
“The church recognizes this holy union of king and queen. I crown thee King Roark Burkewood,” he says, placing the crown on Roark’s head with trembling hands. “And Queen Elizabeth Burkewood,” he says, placing the surprisingly heavy crown on my own head.
Roark turns toward the men, who are so close now I can see the stains on their cloth
ing. “Stop!” he shouts, voice booming through the building. “In the name of your king, stand down!”
The men hesitate, and it’s enough. Heads turn and the men talk in low tones, arguing amongst themselves until their captain shouts for silence, raising his arms high. “Quiet!” he turns to the priests. “Tell me, priests. Is this true? Is he our king?”
Thomas nods, then he glares at the other two priests until they nod as well. “It’s true. Yes.”
The guard captain watches us through narrowed eyes, turning once more to his men. I hold my breath, knowing with a word, this man could still end us. They could open fire and blast us all from existence, claiming the ritual was never completed.
But the captain falls to one knee, bowing his head. “We’re at your command, my liege.”
The rest of the men fall to their knees as well, and I hold on to Roark so I don’t collapse from relief. His large hand rubs my back. “Can’t believe that worked,” he mutters.
I bulge my eyes at him. “You didn’t think it would work?”
He shrugs. “It was my best plan, but no. At least it was a plan that involved kissing you, though.”
I grin. “You’re unbelievable.”
“In bed,” he jokes.
I roll my eyes. “Did becoming king turn you into an immature middle schooler?”
“No. It made me realize I’ve never fucked a queen before. I’m impatient to give it a try.”
I clear my throat, looking at the priests and the guards who all obviously heard what he just said and are trying to look anywhere but at us.
16
Roark
I sit in the throne that was my father’s, and his father’s before him. Though I know the man who claims this throne is one of the most powerful men in the world, I’m more interested in the woman who sits in the smaller throne beside me. My queen.
I reach across to her armrest and grab her hand, squeezing slightly. She smiles up at me. “So,” she says. “It’s our first morning as king and queen. Breakfast was good, but is this what we do? We just kind of sit here in this big room while the guards stand with their backs to us?”
I smirk. “We have a great responsibility. In the next few days, dignitaries from all the major global political powers will be checking in with us and trying to win favor. We’ll be expected to begin participating on the global stage as well--the shadow stage, that is.”
“Sounds important, but boring,” says Elizabeth with a smile.
“I agree. But it’s just a small part of our daily life. A decision here, a decision there. I’ll make sure of it, because I still have a head full of ideas about the things I want to do to you, and where I want to do them. I’ll also need to show you off in every city of the Shrouded Kingdoms as well. It will be very time consuming, very sex-filled work.”
Elizabeth laughs. Her cheeks stain red as she glances to the guards within earshot. Her expression hardens suddenly. “What’s the news on Titus and Korinthia?”
I grip the armrests of my chair more tightly now. After we won the guards back yesterday, taking control of the palace was a quick job. Once we had control, I threw my brother and my mother into the dungeons. They were conscious by then, and pleading for forgiveness, promising if I would just spare their lives they would change.
Some make the mistake of thinking mercy is a weakness, but I know better. Executing Titus and my mother would be as easy as breathing. Easier, even. When I killed those guards on my way to rescuing Elizabeth, it was the first time I can remember that violence didn’t stir the darkness within me. I felt repulsed by it--completely conscious of the waste of life and the hubris required to think I had a right to take it. But I took those lives all the same because something was on the line more important than my own morality.
Now though? Titus and my mother are crippled politically. They have been stripped of their titles and estates. Even if I do free them, they’ll live shame filled lives as lesser nobles with no hope of ever moving up the social ladder. Honestly, death may even be kinder than that fate.
The more I think about it, the more I realize their fate shouldn’t be my decision alone. Maybe I had to tolerate their bullshit for so many years, but the way they wronged Elizabeth surpasses anything they ever did to me.
“I want you to decide their fate,” I say after a long pause.
Elizabeth looks down, picking at the hem of her dress. “If I say they should die, I’ll carry the guilt with me for the rest of my life, whether I should or not. And they aren’t even worth a guilty conscience. Let them live. You said their life would be miserable now, anyway, didn’t you?”
“It would,” I say.
She nods. “Then let them out. Maybe they’ll learn some humility.”
“So be it,” I say. “Kato, send the message to the dungeons. Titus and Korinthia are to be given enough food and water to last them through the day and transportation out of the palace.”
Kato turns, nodding toward me. “As you command, my liege.”
Only a few minutes after Kato has left, a sweaty guard with wide, panic-filled eyes stumbles into the throne room, panting. “My liege,” he gasps. “I came right away. Titus and Korinthia tried to bribe me. They say they have a fortune hidden. That it will go to whoever assassinates the king and queen. They tried to get me to do it.”
I stand from my throne, filled with a righteous rage that has my hairs standing on end. “You did well soldier. You’ll be rewarded, but we’re going to deal with this first. Elizabeth, come.”
When we reach the dungeons, I find Kato opening the cell for Titus and Korinthia. I let him lead them out, enjoying the way their eyes widen when they see Elizabeth and I.
“Wondering why we’re not assassinated yet?” I ask.
They exchange a worried glance. It’s almost hard to see them like this. While they both had inflated ideas of their own worth before, they now look like wet rats who would chew off their own tails to escape a trap. It seems for them, the man and woman did not exist independent of titles.
“I don’t know what you heard, my son,” says Korinthia, putting her hands up defensively. “But we would never plan such a thing.”
Titus licks his lips as quick as a serpent. “But if we did, you would want to be careful how you treat us,” he says.
Korinthia’s head snaps toward him. She shakes her head almost imperceptibly, urging Titus to stop talking.
“You’d have to worry that plans were already in effect that could catch up with you if we died,” continues Titus. “If we were planning something like that, keeping us alive would be your only hope of safety.”
“I was looking forward to starting fresh as king,” I say. “Leave the violence in my past and focus on loving my beautiful queen. But I’m going to make an exception for the two of you. Kato, take them to the town center. It has been too long since we’ve had a public execution. Let’s show the city what happens to traitors.”
“No!” shouts Titus. “You can’t do this to us!”
“Roark, think about this,” pleads my mother.
“About what?” I ask. “The fact that you both planned to have me assassinated twice now? Or that you just made it painfully clear I can’t let you live without fearing that you’ll try to hurt my queen? No. You’re both all out of chances. I take no joy in it ending this way, but it will end.”
I look to Elizabeth, who gives me a quick nod in return, even though her face looks pale.
“Take them, Kato. We’ll be there shortly.”
Epilogue
Elizabeth
It has been a month since Korinthia and Titus were executed in front of the entire city. I thought I wouldn’t be able to look, but I did. I watched as they hanged because being queen isn’t just about doing what’s easy or what makes me feel good--I’ve learned that from Roark. I’ll carry the weight of their deaths for as long as I live, but Roark has taught me to bear the weight with dignity, to hold it deep inside and use it as fuel when I’m presented with dif
ficult moments.
I haven’t returned to see my foster parents since Roark took me the night everything went to hell, and I don’t know if I ever will. A small part of me still longs for the love and affection that I never received from them as a child, but I know it won’t happen. They took me in for a paycheck, not because hey wanted a child to love. They treated me like dirt because they hated that I was destined for more. Jealousy turned any positivity they could have had toward me to poison.
I’d like to think if they knew what Titus had planned for me they wouldn’t have been so happy to get rid of me, or maybe they would have even treated me better… But I doubt it. Frankly, the more I think of it, the more I realize I can live without trying to fix that part of my life. Moving on gets easier every day. The palace is my home now, and Roark, my king, is my family.
I’m sitting in one of the circular dressing rooms on the ground floor of the palace. Huge bay windows surround me, letting in startling views of the crisp blue winter skies and flurries of snow that buffet the frozen trees outside. The palace decorators have already made a winter paradise in the interior of every room, picking out color schemes that scream winter bliss and cozy comfort. I bite my lip, watching in the mirror as Marcella, Kadene, and Niera circle me and work on my dress, hair, and makeup.
“I’m so excited,” says Marcella, who hasn’t stopped smiling since she showed up to get started this morning. “A royal wedding,” she says wistfully. “The entirety of the Shrouded Kingdom is talking about it. There will be cameras everywhere.”
“I heard Mikah will be there,” says Kadene, who looks meaningfully at Niera.
Niera studies the floor, speaking in a forced tone of disinterest. “Really? I hadn’t heard that,” she says.
Marcella winks at me. “You look particularly lovely, by the way, Niera. Is that a new dress?”
Niera looks down at the bright pink dress she wears, which definitely seems to be brand new. “This? What? No. I’ve had this for ages.”
“You look wonderful,” I say to Niera, who smiles back and blushes. “How long do we have until the ceremony?”
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