Queen of Monsters and Madness

by Frost Kay

  “I see how you and Sam are such good friends,” her papa remarked with a smile. “I’m sure you would’ve gotten along with our boys as well.”

  “Indeed,” her mum grumbled, causing Sage to smile as they ascended the servants’ stairs. “What’s one more mischievous boy?”

  “Thank you,” Sage whispered.

  “For what?” Garreth asked, his eyes on the stairs.

  “For taking this route.” She didn’t think she could bear all the stares and whispers.

  A slight smile. “You’ve never been one for fanfare.”

  “No, I have not.”

  “Although, I have to say I don’t care for stairwells any longer.”

  That she understood. “Me, neither.”

  They reached the last stair and entered the royal wing. Some of the tension in Garreth drained as they moved down the corridor.

  Her brows furrowed as they passed Tehl’s room and moved toward her old room.

  Garreth caught her look and answered her unspoken question. “The prince thought you’d be more comfortable in your own room.”

  Disappointment poked her. Of course, he wouldn’t want her near him after everything she’d done.

  He paused outside her old room. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” A lie, but what was one more?

  Tehl

  “Good hell,” Tehl cursed as Sam was thrown across the ring. The Scythian woman’s strength was incredible.

  His brother hit the ground and rolled with the fall, popping back up. He staggered and shook his head before narrowing his eyes at his opponent. “That was cheap,” Sam accused with a dangerous smile.

  “War is cheap.” Blaise sauntered up to the fence that encircled the training ring, her back to Sam. “If you see an opening, you take it, or you die.” She wiped her face while Sam snuck up on her. “Scythians are stronger and faster than you.”

  Tehl leaned against the post, eyeing the woman. “You should never turn your back on the enemy.”

  “True, but he’s not really my enemy now, is he?” she asked before spinning and meeting Sam’s lunge head on.

  The ring of swords echoed around them as the two locked in battle. Sam bared his teeth at her and pulled a dagger from his belt. Blaise kicked his leg out from underneath him as he slashed at her right leg, just missing her as she danced out of range, dagger and sword in hand.

  It was a thing to behold. He’d never seen someone so fluid with a dagger and sword. She held the sword in one hand like it weighed nothing at all—for her, it probably did. What had started out as a training session between himself and his brother escalated when Blaise showed up in all her heathen glory.

  His brother’s schemes knew no bounds. It was brilliant, really, to invite her to spar with them each day. His men were already becoming accustomed to her presence. Tehl eyed the training yard, now surrounded with so many Elite he couldn’t see past them. They, as well as he, couldn’t pass up watching Blaise trounce his brother in fantastic fashion. It was amusing, to say the least.

  “Kneeling before a woman, brother?” Tehl called. “Here, I thought I’d never see the day.”

  Sam spat blood on the ground and grinned at him. “If you’ve never knelt before a woman, then you’ve never lived. I’ll gladly kneel before one.”

  Blaise snorted. “I doubt you’d know what to do with a woman.”

  Sniggers surrounded them as his men enjoyed the show.

  Sam staggered to his feet. “I could show you better than I could tell you.”

  “Mmmhmm…” she hummed, eyeing him. Blaise strolled toward him, lashes fluttering. “You think you can handle me?”

  “I know I can.” Sam’s words were careless, but the way his gaze tracked her wasn’t. For every move the Scythian made, his brother countered it. Sam wasn’t stupid. The key was staying out of her range. If she got a hold on him, he was done for.

  She smiled and feigned to the right, but Sam was prepared. He blocked her, once, twice, and then, in a blink of an eye, he was on his knees with her sword held to his throat.

  Tehl blinked. How in the stars had she done that?

  The men around him stilled, each reaching for their own blades. Blaise scanned the ring, noting the hostile change in the men. Her expression blanked, but she didn’t remove her sword from his brother’s neck.

  Tehl kept his pose casual. He knew she wouldn’t harm his brother, and he wanted to show his men he trusted her. They needed to trust her if they wanted to survive in the upcoming battle.

  Sam had concocted the idea three days before. The fastest way to integrate Blaise with his men was for her to train with them. Training was a dangerous thing. Accidents happened all the time, but if she trained with them, they’d begin to trust her. You had to have a measure of trust in your partner.

  Blaise slowly lifted her left hand and ruffled Sam’s wavy hair. “Do you yield?”

  Sam grinned and lifted his chin to stare up into her face, exposing his neck even further to her. “What will you give me if I do?”

  “Your life.”

  “That puts things into perspective.” He flashed her a dimpled grin that knocked most women on their asses. “I concede to you, beautiful lady.”

  She shook her head at his antics and released him. Sam rolled his neck and grinned as she held her arm out to him as a gesture of goodwill.

  That was a smart move. Sportsmanship was important to his men and she’d just honored Sam, even though they were born enemies.

  Sam accepted her arm and stood, brushing himself off. “I didn’t even see that last move.”

  “I’m faster than you. You have to be smarter,” she said, sheathing her sword.

  “Surely, you’re not only going to challenge him?” a deep voice asked.

  Tehl hid his smile as Rafe pushed through the Elite and leaned against the post. The rebellion leader couldn’t keep away. Tehl had noticed a pattern in the last few days. Anywhere Blaise showed up, so did Rafe. It was an interesting turn of events.

  She stiffened and glared at Rafe. “Surely you have something better to occupy your time, Methian?”

  Rafe jumped over the fence, landing in a crouch. “Nothing would please me more than to spar with you.”

  “Do you really think it would be a fair fight?” she asked, cocking her hip. “I’ve been sparring for the last hour, and you’re refreshed.”

  Rafe unclasped his cloak and laid it over a post. “By all means then, refresh yourself. I was led to believe you had much more stamina.”

  Tehl whistled as his brother clambered over the fence and dropped next to him. Rafe was playing with fire, but Tehl wanted Rafe to keep pushing her just so he could watch her grind him into the dirt.

  “He’s baiting her, the nutter,” Sam panted, wiping the sweat from the back of his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been beaten this badly before.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Thanks,” Sam said sarcastically. “I can always rely on you telling me the truth.”

  “True.”

  Sam shook his head. “She’ll tear him to pieces.”

  “Why do you say that?” he asked, eyeing the two warriors in the ring like one might a pit of snakes. One wrong move, and the enemy would strike.

  “She was holding back.”

  He’d noticed that himself. She’d pulled her punches a few times. “That was probably wise. I didn’t wish you to be murdered.”

  “How touching,” Sam deadpanned. “It was all I could do to keep up as long as I did. If that had been a real fight, I would’ve died in the first fifteen seconds. The warlord really did breed them for war.”

  “Bastard,” Tehl cursed. Everywhere he turned, that monster was the cause of something that gave him trouble.

  Rafe held his forearm out.

  “I accept.” Blaise slapped her hand against his and stalked back to his side of the fence.

  She locked gazes with Tehl as she snatched a cloth from the fence.

  “Insufferable dog
,” she growled. “He won’t like what happens when he forces my hand. This was supposed to be a training, not full-out war.”

  “You can say no,” he pointed out, handing her a ladle full of water from the bucket.

  “And walk away after he challenged me?” she scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

  “He challenged you?” Tehl frowned. He didn’t remember that.

  Blaise rolled her dark brown eyes. “Men.”

  Sam scoffed. “I will not be lumped in with him, thank you very much. He’s as dense as a rock sometimes.”

  Tehl didn’t bother defending himself. It was the truth.

  She patted Sam on the cheek. “You, my pretty friend, should be in a class all of your own.”

  His brother beamed. “Thank you.”

  Her expression blanked. “It wasn’t a compliment.”

  Sam pouted. “I’m hurt.”

  “I’m sure,” she retorted, rolling her neck. She threw her shoulders back and straightened, a feral grin on her face. “I’m going to smear him across the dirt of the earth.” With those parting words, she turned her back on them and moved to the center ring.

  “She’s going to slaughter him,” Sam said with glee as Rafe prowled toward the center, his entire focus on the Scythian woman.

  Tehl studied him and shook his head. “No, she won’t.”

  Sam arched his brows. “She has every advantage over him.”

  “It’s something in the way he moves, the way he carries himself. I believe they’re evenly matched.”

  Sam narrowed his eyes on Rafe. “Perhaps you’re right.”

  Zachael lifted his hands and nodded at Blaise. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She secured her braids and sank into her fighting stance.

  The weapons master dropped his hands, signaling the beginning of the match.

  Neither lunged. They circled each other like one might a leren. Tehl’s mind flashed to the beast who had attached herself to his wife. It was an apt description.

  Rafe glided forward and lunged. Blaise danced out of his way and darted in, only to be blocked by the rebellion leader. Tehl sucked in a sharp breath when Rafe countered in a flurry of movements he couldn’t keep track of, movements that flowed into another set.

  Again, they circled before coming together in a series of clashes of steel and fists. Rafe hissed, and some of the Elite whooped as Blaise struck the first blood.

  The rebellion leader held up one finger. “That’s your one time.” He smiled, but it wasn’t nice. “You’re fast, I’ll give you that.”

  Blaise didn’t respond. Her expression didn’t even change.

  In a wickedly quick move, Rafe attacked. Tehl’s jaw clenched as steel scraped against steel in a teeth-rattling attack.

  “Damn, he’s not messing about,” Sam said. “It hurts my arms just to watch her block those blows.”

  Blaise gritted her teeth and shifted forward, pushing the huge man back.

  “Stars above,” Tehl said, shaking his head. “How strong is she? He’s double her size.” It didn’t bode well for Aermia if Scythia’s army was made up of warriors like Blaise. They were way out of their league. His men needed more training.

  He continued to watch the bout and winced as Blaise took a heavy blow to the chest. She staggered but recovered and slid under Rafe’s guard to slap his stomach with the broadside of her sword as he wrapped a hand around her throat. They froze that way, face to face, both breathing hard.

  No one cheered or spoke a word. It was almost a reverent silence for what they’d just witnessed. Sparring was an art, and Blaise and Rafe had taken it to another level.

  “Yield,” Blaise said, blushing.

  Rafe smiled. “We’re at a standstill, little leren. Concede.”

  “I will not,” she said. “I will never bow to you.”

  “Never say never.”

  Blaise scanned his face and did something Tehl didn’t expect—and neither did Rafe. She smiled. The rebellion leader didn’t stand a chance. His mouth slackened, and his hands loosened. Poor sucker. Women were always tricksters like that. They never made much sense and were always surprising.

  That was all the opening she needed.

  Blaise slammed the butt of her dagger into the muscle of his thigh and threw her head into his face. Blaise pulled back and skirted out of his reach as he threw a blind jab.

  Rafe seemed to swell in size as he pinned her with golden, watering eyes. “That wasn’t pleasant,” he said softly.

  “It wasn’t meant to be.” She smiled and batted her lashes at him. “Are you ready for more, Methian?”

  “Here it comes,” Sam said with glee. “He’s going to let loose.”

  A tremble went through Rafe, but he didn’t lash out, he threw his head back and released a roaring laugh.

  Blaise blinked, and so did Tehl. That was the last thing he expected Rafe to do.

  He wiped his watering eyes and held out his forearm. “It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a bout. I thank you.”

  She stared at his arm, her fingers clenching around her weapons, and shifted, not taking his hand.

  Take his hand, Tehl urged. If she couldn’t get over her prejudice, how could she expect his men to?

  “Take it,” Tehl said under his breath.

  Blaise cocked her head, her gaze flitting to him like she heard his words.

  Rafe raised his brows at her hesitation. “What, little leren? Afraid to touch a Methian?”

  Her jaw clenched, and her nose wrinkled. She exhaled and then approached Rafe. “Well met,” she said clasping his forearm.

  “Well met,” Rafe said.

  Tehl pushed from the post and began to clap. A bout like that deserved praise. Moreover, Blaise deserved a round of praise by accepting Rafe’s hand when she clearly didn’t want to.

  She yanked her hand from Rafe’s and turned her back to him. However, the rebellion leader never looked away from the woman strolling away from him to be congratulated by the Elite.

  “If he stares any harder, her clothing will go up in flames.”

  Rafe jerked and glanced in their direction like he heard their conversation. Tehl crossed his arms and raised his brows at the rebellion leader.

  A shrug was all he received in reply.

  He wasn’t getting off that easily. Tehl had questions that he wanted answers to.

  Sage

  It was just as beautiful as she remembered.

  “Please, put me down,” she said softly, soaking in the room that had changed her life.

  The giant four-poster bed crafted from the pale aqua wood of the jardintin tree still dominated the room. White, gauzy curtains, draped from post to post, floated around the bed. Rich, dark blue carpets covered the stone floor, and deep-cushioned chairs were scattered around the spacious room in a sea of colors.

  She slowly walked toward the bed and ran her hand over its silky white coverlet. The color bothered her. Before, she loved how crisp and clean it looked. Now, it was a symbol of how sullied she was.

  Swallowing hard, she turned from the bed and, once again, took in the room. The large fireplace that occupied the wall adjacent her bed, its mantle comprised of purple shells, shimmering abalone, and the dainty starfish, still made her smile. That could never be taken from her, her love of the ocean.

  Next, she looked past the fireplace to the two large doors of pale wood that overlooked the sea. Her heart lurched as she got a glimpse through the glass at the top. The ocean stretched for ages before kissing the setting sun that exploded into color after color. She’d missed the ocean with a fierceness that stole her breath. The sea was home.

  “Love?” her mum called.

  Sage turned and blinked at her parents. She’d forgotten they were still there. “What is—” She paused and stared at the dressing table and mirror. Distinctly male items were lying all over the surface.

  Garreth followed her gaze. “The crown prince has been staying here,” he said, answering her unspoken
question.

  She studied the room once more, noting little changes here and there. Male boots beside the bed. A broadsword on top of the dresser. A huge cloak thrown over the back of one of the chairs near the fireplace. Why had he stayed here? Was this a new development?

  “How long?” she asked.

  “Since before,” Garreth said softly.

  She swallowed hard and stared blankly at the room, not knowing how she felt about that. Part of her loved that he’d stayed there, but the other part wasn’t sure if she liked him invading her space.

  Her gaze was drawn back to the balcony doors. That was her special place. In her bones, she knew if she could just get out there, everything would be okay. The world would make sense again.

  Sage rushed to the doors and flung them open, her heart pounding. A salty sea breeze ruffled her hair, the loose strands lifting in the air. Taking a step, her bare feet moved across the sun-warmed stone to the balcony. Gulls heckled and chased each other playfully. This was freedom.

  The cool air kissed her bare arms and left a trail of goosebumps in its wake. She placed her hands on the balcony railing and closed her eyes to soak in the sounds of the crashing sea below. Home. This was home.

  She sighed and opened her eyes. Nothing was as beautiful as the sunrise. The cool air brushed over her skin, and a shiver worked through her.

  And, on the heels of it, a memory.

  The sky painted with rich reds, oranges, and purples. His lopsided smile, while he held her tightly as the sun faded from view. Kisses to the top of her head. Affection.

  Sage stared sightlessly at the ocean before her and shuddered. Even now, he was ruining her safe place. “Get out of my head,” she whispered.

  Still, she could feel the ghost of his arms embracing her. How could she think about such a thing after all he’d done? Her fingers turned white as she squeezed the railing. Part of her missed him, wanted the comfort and connection of his presence.

  A soft curse left her lips. She was sick. Sick in the mind and heart. Heat burned behind her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry. She’d done enough of that.

  She inhaled the salty air and watched the gulls play, darting here and there to outrun their pursuer. If only she had wings to fly away. If she had wings, no one could reach her, nothing could touch her. Wings meant safety.