by Stacy Reid
“Her taste, Drac?”
He met Gidon’s eye unflinching.
“Her taste.”
“Fuck," Gidon replied, which said it all. “And was the princess open to you tasting her?”
Drac knew his friend didn’t think him capable of forcing a woman, but she was the damn Princess of Boreas. She should be skittish and fearful, not receptive to seduction.
Drac snarled, and the lust and satisfaction that fired in his eyes had Gidon rocking back on his heels and mentally cursing.
“I cannot leave here until she departs with Lachlan. I want to be away from her Gidon, but I need to be here. If she was attacked again while I am away, it’s not something I want even to consider."
It was imperative that nothing at this stage tip the delicate balance they were trying to establish with her nation. A Darkan could not claim a woman belonging to another kingdom without inviting war, much less the heir of Boreas.
Definitely a royal cluster fuck.
“She will be heavily guarded. I have selected a team of my five deadliest and loyal warriors to be her shadow for the duration of her stay if she accepts my invitation. She will not be harmed,” Gidon vowed. “You can return to the Northern Keep and concentrate your energy on finding the assassin of my father.”
Drac looked at him as if he was losing his mind.
“I cannot leave knowing death shadows her steps while she is here,” he stated implacably. “Do not doubt me, my friend, I will find the assassin of our Ricarkri, but I need to be here now. It is only five days, and Tehdra is mounting a search for the cowards, and she will not fail.”
Gidon had never thought Drac capable of putting anything before executing his duty. He was not like many who yearned to find the other half to themselves, and he had always been wary of being vulnerable to a woman. Darkans could have relationships, but there came a time when they met a man or woman whom the beast within them craved, and when they took that mate, it was for life.
“Do not bed her unless she is your mate. If she is yours, then you are bound to her and her to you. But only if you are certain, Drac. If not, stay away from her,” Gidon ordered with finality ringing in his voice.
“I will depart in five days when she departs.” Drac shiktred away.
It was less challenging to dominate with fear, Gidon mused. To take what he needed from each kingdom would be much simpler, but he had a vision for his people that many did not understand. He also had to rule with fairness and respect the other kingdoms in Amagarie. The character of the Ricarkri would be the character of the country. If he ruled with rage, treachery, and viciousness, that would be the only way his nation was perceived. If he wanted honor bargains, treaties and gifts for his country, he would have to rise above the mercilessness inside of him and rule with fairness, strength and graciousness. A challenge, but one he welcomed.
The king’s private room depicted regal elegance. With onyx stone floors, and great oak chairs and the dais padded with the softest of silver and blue velvet. The cavernous fireplace blazed with a fire that illuminated the stunning mastery of the tapestries which adorned the walls. Her feet sank into plush carpets threaded with an intricate design. Upon peering closer, Saieke realized the threading had drawn pictures of several beasts in motion.
“Princess El Shyokara,” Gidon greeted her with a slight bow. “I present Lachlan Ravenswood, my east quadrant enforcer and the emissary I have chosen to travel with you to Boreas."
Saieke curtsied, meeting the tawny eyes of Lachlan. She was beginning to realize all Darkans were dangerously beautiful.
“Princess,” Lachlan murmured on a bow, assessing her as he escorted to the chaise by the windows.
Five other Darkans were positioned motionless at the door. The king sat opposite her, and Saieke ignored Lachlan as he sauntered gracefully to the fireplace. She held her back rigid, refusing to relax in the plush seat and studied the king.
"I offer you our deepest apologies that citizens of the Darkage attacked you. They will be put to death for their actions against you and the Kingdom of Boreas,” Gidon said with calm authority.
Saieke flinched. She had tried not to dwell on the attack, and she hated to remember the fear that had gripped her in those moments. It had been unbearable. She inclined her head in acknowledgment of his apology.
She smiled at the servant who appeared with goblets of fruited wine. She sipped tentatively, and her lips tingled at the zesty taste of the drink. “Why was I attacked?”
Gidon’s face became inscrutable. “Boreas is despised by many. You are your kingdom.”
“Why are we hated?” Saieke clasped the goblet with her both hands to keep them from shaking. The memory of his beast kept flitting across her mind.
“Our queen, my mother, was severely ill and our healers could do nothing. We petitioned your kingdom for aid, and received denials twice."
She stiffened. “That is not possible. My Ricarkri would not deny another kingdom of Amagarie our waters when it could save the life of a ruler.”
A sardonic smile twisted the king’s lips as he leaned forward, resting his muscular forearms on his thighs. “I am sure you are aware of our reputation, Princess. We are reviled, and Boreas treated us with contempt. At the death of our queen, many wanted vengeance on your kingdom. You being in the Darkage and of the house that denied our queen the possibility of life, motivated some to seek vengeance. It will not happen again.”
Saieke’s heart thudded. It was possible her father denied them. It would have been cruel for her king to dismiss a petition when the elixir they had was so bountiful.
“I know the attack on you only confirms our reputation. I invite you to spend a few days in the Darkage to learn about us, so we can foster trade and diplomacy between our nations and show you that we are more than our rumors.”
Saieke frowned at the unexpected invitation. She had assumed that Gidon would desire her immediate departure to honor their bargain.
Open talk of trade with the Darkage?
The very idea was daunting. Saieke could present all she would learn to the Princes’ Council, who would then take it to the Ricarkri. The fact they had saved her from Mevia was in their favor, and this was an opportunity for her to extend her stay and rid herself of the barrier that could protect her people.
A deep part of her wanted to leave and return to the comfort of her realm, even if that comfort would be short-lived. But how could she agree to stay? How could she remain in a kingdom where many wanted her demise because of the perceived infraction of her country against their queen? It was unfair, but Saieke knew there was a possibility that all the kingdoms would have denied their petition.
She had let down her guard, trusted them, and she almost died. If not for the arrival of Drac, her kingdom would now be in mourning and embroiled in war. “I would like a few moments to think,” she said as uncertainty pelted inside her.
Gidon inclined his head and strode to the wide stained window overlooking his domain. He stood proud, with his hands clasped behind his back, garbed in a black tunic with only a dark grey undershirt to match the wintry grey of his eyes, midnight hair held back with a tong flowed to his back, and his frame was muscular and powerful. Something about the way he stood made her wary, yet her heartstrings tugged.
She believed he braced himself for her refusal. Would he try to use fear if she demanded to leave? For some unfathomable reason, Saieke did not think so. If she wanted to be free of her kingdom’s pledge to Nuria, she had to take a lover. And Drac had shown he desired her. To travel home would deny her the opportunity to seduce him, yet to remain in the Darkage she courted death. Her choice was simple. To prevent the death of her kingdom, the loss of their traditions, their legacies and culture, and everything that made Boreas unique, she would return an impure and imperfect bride, even if it meant skating close to the edge of death.
She was fascinated by Drac, yet frightened on a deep level by the heartlessness of which he was capable. She would no
t survive if he were to turn it on her. However, he’d saved her, protected her against his people, and conversed with her to remove her fear. A fear that he said was repulsive to him. That had to mean something. And his kisses. Heat cascaded through her. Her desire was sharp and wicked at the mere memory.
“King Gidon," Saieke said softly. She drew back, startled for suddenly he was in front of her. They needed to stop doing that. “I have some questions and a request.”
The grey of his eyes swirled with liquid silver and something akin to hope. It was very unnerving.
“Proceed,” he commanded.
“How will you guarantee my safety?”
He lifted his hand, and the five Darkans stationed at the door appeared behind him. “I have selected five warriors who will be your shadow and protection until you leave. Your safety will be their only duty.”
"How do I know that one of these men will not attack me? The men who attacked me, were they not part of your warrior forces? They wore the same dark robes as these men with the same insignia.”
Gidon stared at her appraisingly. “They were indeed from the warrior order; however, I can guarantee that you will not be threatened again while you are here.”
Saieke observed the five men. The coldness that emanated from them was bone deep and chilling.
“Your Archduke, Drac, came to my rescue.”
One of the warriors twitched, and she felt the surprise through his chakra before he contained his emotions.
“He did,” the king said.
Saieke paused and thought carefully. “I must admit, King Gidon, I am intrigued to learn about your realm. I have seen your tapestries and weapons—they bespeak exquisite craftsmanship. People would indeed trade for such wealth and beauty.”
“You see wealth in our tapestries?” Gidon gave a cursory glance at the tapestries behind her.
“They are exquisite, Your Majesty. Despite my interest, I fear it would be impossible for me to feel safe even with your assurance, as I am without my own trusted Queen’s blades.”
Saieke held herself from fidgeting, maintaining contact with the king’s wintery gaze. She could feel the tension of Lachlan from across the room as he considered her words.
“What would reassure you, Princess?” The king finally asked.
Thank Kings. “I would feel more reassured, if Archduke, Drac El Kyn was assigned to my protection.”
Gidon’s brow arched, the slow smile that curved his mouth was not one Saieke could interpret. But she was not mistaken about the shrewd calculation that shifted through his eyes.
“It is not the purview of the Archduke to guard a princess.”
His voice was so cold and unaffected, Saieke hesitated. “What is his purview?” She stood and strolled to the fireplace, needing the heat of the fire to pierce the chill enveloping her.
She felt the caress of Gidon’s eyes as he tracked her movements, but she did not face him.
“His responsibility is equal to that of a Province Prince in other kingdoms. Civilians, warriors, elders, and chancellors report to him, and he is responsible for their protection and governance. He is my horseman of the north."
“My uncertainty about remaining in your kingdom for any duration runs deep. However, I would be very reassured if the Darkan who thought to save me was by my side,” she said.
Saieke glanced up to meet Lachlan’s eyes which were dancing with amusement. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she looked away from his knowing gaze. He could not possibly know.
“Return to regular duties,” the king ordered, and the warriors disappeared from the room.
Saieke frowned. “Are you retracting your invitation, King Al Shra?”
“You have asked for Drac to be your protector. It will be done.”
“To be a part of it.”
“With Drac by your side, Princess, there is no need for any other protection.”
“Thank you.” She curtsied gracefully, his capitulation a pleasant surprise.
“I bid you good evening, Princess. I will make arrangements for your stay.” He then vanished in the shadows, leaving her care to Lachlan.
9
The Darkage—Castle Kerberos
The grand dining room echoed with the din of laughter and the bustle of the servants as they laid out the evening feast. The massive oak table in the center of the dining hall had dozens of large platters. The savory scent of thyme-infused meat, spiced rice and drinks had Saieke’s nose twitching in anticipation.
When she entered the hall, she had almost faltered in the face of so many Darkans. They had stared at her with inscrutable expressions but inclined their heads respectfully. From brief introductions, she learned she dined with the Archdukes of the east and south quadrants, the elders and chancellors residing at court.
She was then thoroughly ignored during the serving of the meal.
This did little to disturb Saieke. The only real disappointment was the absence of Drac. She had pampered her skin with scented water and wore a deep blue caftan lined with exquisite silver threading. It hugged her frame and flowed from her waist to curl around her ankles, and she’d left her hair rippling in a fiery wave down her back. And he had not shown. She was not sure how to entice Drac, but she’d been sure she would have made some progress tonight.
“There is a rumor that High Lord El Kyn has been assigned your protector,” a voice said to her left.
She turned to the first Darkan to speak with her tonight outside of the king and his enforcers. “I can confirm it is not a rumor.”
An elegant brow raised in a face that was shockingly beautiful. “Curious…and intriguing.” She stuck out her hand. “I am Lady Farrah Vida. I live at court with my mate.” She inclined her head to a massive red-haired man speaking intently with the king.
“I am….”
“I know your titles Princess Saieke El Shyokara, High Duchess of Kais, sole heir to the realm of wind and mountains. The court is alive with tales of your visit.”
“I expected to be a curiosity,” Saieke murmured.
Eyes of cerulean blue caressed her insolently. "Oh, you are so much more than a mere curiosity,” Lady Farrah said with a small smile.
“Please,” Saieke drawled, leaning back in her chair, determined to show an indifferent mien. “Enlighten me.”
“You are a symbol of hope and hatred in equal measure.”
She already knew of their distaste, but hope? The king offered her a rare opportunity to learn about his kingdom. When he had spoken of fostering trade and opening negotiations, Saieke only thought to capitalize on the chance to entice Drac to aid her cause. Shame burned in her blood. They felt her presence a hope because it was the opportunity for her to see them as more than their reputed monstrosity.
Their brutality was not in question—the viciousness of the rage that sprang from their chakra could paralyze her with fear. But, they were more than the savagery they could display. It would be intriguing to discover what they do offer to the realms. If Boreas would listen to them or her would be another issue. The revulsion of the dark ran deep, the stories she grew up listening to indicate a kingdom that was awash in constant bloodletting and war.
Saieke looked around the table, skipping from face to face. The Darkans conversed freely, laughing and eating with gusto, and the level of camaraderie filled her with an ache for her court. “Castle Kerberos is beautiful,” she said softly.
“Did you expect otherwise? Of course, you did." A scathing reply from lips painted blood red.
“Mayhap. There seem to be many contrived rumors about your kingdom. Its beauty is rough, but it exceeds many I have seen.” Saieke took a deep sip of the fruited wine, its tangy taste to which she could quickly get addicted.
“We are comparable to the all the kingdoms in the seven realms. We do not live in holes and murder our babies. We do not only speak Darkanian, but we know the languages of the other kingdoms, and of Earth. We have great artisans, healers and many inventive citizens who work to make
our kingdom a pleasant and safe place to live,” Lady Farrah said with a frosty smile. “But other kingdoms have refused to trade with us, and when we take in desperation, we are hated for it.”
Saieke’s heart squeezed at the current of pain and loss in Lady Farrah’s voice.
“I know the Darkage is more than the rumors I have heard. I did not know the Darkage knew of the rumors.”
Lady Farrah soft laughter was warm and pleasant. “We know of most. The worst I have heard is that our king lives in a pit filled with bones of the babies that he eats when he breaks his fast. Castle Kerberos has more than six hundred rooms, over two dozen baileys, with hundreds of windows and arches. There is no hidden underground pit with our children’s bones.”
Saieke nodded. Memories of being attacked irked her. The din in the room dropped as she became the focus of many stares.
“We are able to sense all negative emotions. Please know you are safe. I apologize if I said anything to cause such a reaction,” Farrah murmured touching her gently on the shoulders.
“It’s but a memory that teases me, not your actions.”
Saieke felt the weight of eyes on her and met the king’s probing regard.
Gidon cocked his eyebrow. “Are you well, Princess Saieke?”
She gave him a lazy wink, and amusement flashed across his face. “I am delighted by your concern, King Gidon, but I am well.”
Still, hundreds of eyes remained fixated on her.
“Ignore them. You are a novelty.”
So are you.
After dinner, they opened the grand ballroom, and Saieke only danced with the king. It was just too soon to be gliding to the sensual and provocative dance with other Darkans. She had excused herself and pled exhaustion.
Saieke walked with Talon to her chambers. The king had insisted he escort her, along with the dozen warriors trailing several paces behind.
