King’s Wrath

by Fiona McIntosh

  “I must consume her,” he said. The words sounded as though he was talking in a tunnel or beneath water.

  He watched Reuth whisper to Perl, saw Perl open her mouth to scream. Surprisingly it was he who reacted the fastest, covering her mouth quickly so no sound came out. He saw everything in intense detail—her nostrils flaring with her labored breathing, her chest rising and falling so fast she looked like a panicked bird, her eyes widening in horror as Marth lifted a small pair of shears from his back pocket.

  “Just a sting, Perl, I promise,” Leo lied. He nodded to Marth. “Do it!” he commanded and once again pressed his hand hard over her mouth.

  Without any ceremony or hesitation Marth reached for Perl’s ear and in a trice, despite her hysterical squirming and the silent shrieks behind Leo’s palm, snipped off an earlobe.

  Blood gushed, Perl retched and the bloodied piece of flesh fell into Leo’s free hand. Leo wasted no time. He threw the earlobe into his mouth and closed his eyes as he swallowed without chewing.

  As he felt the small piece of flesh slip down his gullet, feeling neither remorse nor repulsion, he heard the words of binding arrive in his mind in an old language he knew he shouldn’t know. And yet, without conscious effort he began to murmur them. Perl instantly began to arch her back despite her captors’ efforts, the whites of her eyes showing from her agony. Leo let out a silent cry of his own, feeling only the ecstasy of the magical Valisar bond as his aegis became truly his.

  Kilt had finished talking long ago but they’d both kept a comfortable silence since, reflecting on all he’d said.

  Evie raised herself to sit with her arms pulling her knees tight to her chest. “Can you imagine how this all sounds to me?”

  He shook his head. “Highly improbable, I should imagine.”

  “So ridiculous in fact that I feel I have no choice but to believe in it. I’m here; this isn’t the dream or the nightmare I hoped I’d wake from. You’re here and I am so aware of you on every level that it’s making my hair stand on end.” He gave a sad smile and nodded silently. “And so let’s say I now accept my bloodline, let’s say I even accept that I am the only daughter of the Valisars to survive and that I am the wielder of this profound magic that no one seems to understand . . . what am I supposed to do with it?”

  “I don’t know, Genevieve.”

  “You’re the first person to ever call me that. I thought my name was Evie.”

  “Genevieve is a beautiful name. I like saying it.” He looked up and straight at her. “You wear that beautiful name very well.” He knew she blushed by the way she suddenly looked away from him. “As to what you should do with your magic—I suspect your father always imagined that if his son were unable to do so, you would use it to seize back the crown.”

  “But you’re telling me that Leo is more than capable.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Then let him have it. I don’t want it. If my father wanted his son to rule, shouldn’t we all just help Leo achieve that?”

  “That’s exactly what I was doing until a few days ago. But I have seen elements in Leo that I don’t like. There’s a real sense of duty that walks hand in hand with a devastating lack of empathy for others.”

  “He’s selfish,” she said simply.

  “No, it’s more than that. I now believe that Leo is capable of tremendous cruelty—violence, even—if he feels the ends justify the means. Now maybe that’s what ruling actually boils down to.”

  “The bigger picture.”

  He frowned. “Yes, that’s a very good way of describing it. Perhaps that’s exactly what is needed, but it’s not the king I had hoped he would grow into. Leo would, I think, sacrifice his soul for the crown. He is so suffused with the notion of power that he’s not going to let anyone stand in his way.”

  “And?”

  “You are standing in his way, Genevieve. You are now his greatest threat.”

  “Me? I don’t even want the wretched throne. I don’t even want to be here.”

  “Well, that may be but you are. If Leo finds himself an aegis, then there’s every likelihood—if Loethar hasn’t found one of his own, that is—that your brother will simply take the throne. He will be unstoppable. And he will set about destroying all the other contenders simply as good housekeeping.”

  “Even if I assured him I had no desire to play royal?”

  “He is Valisar, and he shows his father’s traits. He will leave no stone unturned in cleaning up his new empire and that will include you, your uncle and potentially his adopted brother. Beyond that I suspect there will be plenty of bloodshed as he wreaks his new-found power against the barbarians.”

  “You said they were well integrated though.”

  “Most are and the fact is most people of the empire are very content with the ruling power. Loethar is, dare I say, a damn good emperor and more than worthy of his bloodline. I admire what he’s achieved since he took over.”

  Evie sighed and shook her head. “So it sounds like I must go on the run. Corbel and I can—”

  “De Vis has a sword. That will be worthless against this level of sorcery.”

  “So I’m hunted and already murdered in your scheme of things whatever I do?” she said. It sounded like an accusation.

  Kilt stood and stretched to buy himself a few more moments. “No, your majesty, it is not your only option. Why don’t you join me on this side of the rivulet?”

  “But you can’t—”

  “Well, I’ve been practicing for all this time. And yes, I’ll probably suffer but I think we should formally meet.”

  “I would like that.” She stood. “Is there anything I can do to make it any easier on you?”

  He gave a lopsided grin. “Oh well, you could say you find me irresistible for my handsome physique, my dashing charm and unequaled looks. We don’t have to discuss the dirty words of Valisar magic.”

  She was moving toward him and he had to lean against a tree to steady himself.

  “Keep coming, Genevieve,” he urged, his voice tight.

  She lifted her skirt and easily skipped over the narrow gully. Kilt doubled up.

  “I must say, this is all very complimentary,” Evie quipped. “Next you’ll vomit.”

  “Well, the nausea’s arrived,” he admitted. “Don’t feel sorry, just walk straight at me. I’m doing better than previously.”

  She was close now. “Kilt,” she stammered. “I have to admit that it’s getting hard for me to retain control.”

  “All right, stop,” he said, putting a hand up, breathing with difficulty. “Let me look at you, the first Valisar princess to ever survive.” He straightened with difficulty. “Lo, please don’t strike me blind!” he begged, his discomfort forgotten for a brief heartbeat. “You are beautiful.”

  She blushed furiously. “Shall I go back?” she asked. “Let me, Kilt. I hate doing this to you.” Her voice was trembling.

  “No, no. The pain is exquisite but looking at you makes it a tad more bearable.”

  “Stop it, this is insufferable! I refuse to be a part of this. If I can’t get back and I can’t go on the run, why don’t I just make it easy for everyone and kill myself?”

  “Genevieve, wait!” he begged, breathless. “There is a way for you to be safe, for me to be well.”

  Her gaze narrowed as she paused in thought. Then her dark eyes widened. “No! Absolutely not!”

  “It is the only way,” he said, slipping down the tree trunk in weakness until he was on one knee.

  “Eat you?” she asked, her voice brimming with disgust. “Hurt you? I took an oath, Kilt. I don’t expect you to understand but what you’re suggesting goes against everything I stand for, everything I am.”

  He laughed mirthlessly. “I was born an aegis. Consuming me is your birthright.”

  “Not this princess,” she hissed, pointing a finger in warning to him. “I want to be your ally, not your jailer. We’ve both shared secrets and fears, parts of our lives with each other
that we both admit we haven’t shared with anyone else.” He nodded, incapable of speaking. “I want to be your friend, Kilt. I cannot be convinced to hurt you, not even if my pathetic and intensely protected life depends upon it.”

  “Bravely said, your majesty.”

  “Don’t call me that. I like to hear you call me by my name.” There was something in her voice that stirred deep within him, calmed his pain slightly and gave him the strength to straighten and look at her. “I too have been practicing while we spoke,” she said. “And while you trained yourself to show some resistance, I’ve been training myself to withdraw my magic. Did you feel anything different then?”

  He nodded. “I did. The pain has subsided slightly.”

  She took a deep breath. “How about this?” She frowned, waiting.

  Kilt paused, even managed a smile. “Better, much better.”

  “Right, one last mighty effort then. This is all I have, Kilt,” and he could feel her pull the grasping magic back into herself.

  It didn’t leave entirely, the nausea didn’t disappear, but she now felt like Leo had to him—bearable.

  He tested it, realized he was wearied but back in control. “How . . . ?”

  She gave a wince of regret. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.”

  “Think of what? How have you done this?”

  “I’m a doctor . . . healing is what I do for a profession. And it seems healing is also the magic I possess.”

  “And?” He still didn’t understand.

  “And . . . I’m counteracting your sickness with my healing power.”

  He stared at her, dumbstruck. Finally, he managed, “I’m just in awe of you.”

  “Awe of me?” she queried, looking confused.

  “Yes. Your intelligence, your generosity . . . your strength.”

  “Oh . . .” She looked away.

  “I’m making you blush.”

  “Yes . . . yes, you are. So you’re feeling all right?”

  He did a small jig and then mugged for applause. “How’s this?”

  “Now that’s embarrassing,” she admitted, giggling.

  “This is truly amazing. You are amazing!”

  “Stop now, please,” she said, holding up a hand of protest.

  “But how long can you do this for?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. It feels . . . um, comfortable for now. The main thing is, you can get away. You and your friend, run for your lives and disappear. I’ll never know where you are and I give you my word I won’t look for you.” She smiled. “And that’s the word of Valisar royalty,” she added with a dry edge to her voice.” She looked down. “Go, Kilt. Go right now.”

  He took a breath to speak and then closed his mouth. Instead he took a step forward and took her hand, bent over it and kissed it gently, lingering his lips on her soft skin. He straightened, still holding her hand, and stared into her soft brown eyes. “You would do this for me?”

  She nodded. “It means I beat the magic. I win.”

  “Is that all it means?”

  She shook her head and her breathing changed. “No. It’s very important to me—as a doctor—that I find solutions for people’s ails.”

  His stare intensified. “That’s it?” For what felt like the first time in his life Kilt acted impulsively. He lifted her hand to his lips again and softly but sensually let them mold gently around her small, neat row of knuckles. Then he placed her hand against his stubbled cheek, sighing. He let her hand go. “Forgive me, your highness. I . . . er, I’m not sure what came over me then. Relief, no doubt.”

  She blinked, looking unsure of herself, of him. “You should go. Run, Kilt. Please, run from me.”

  He smiled sadly. “I should but I don’t want to.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Please, it’s your chance.”

  Still surprising himself, still unsure of what he was doing or why, but feeling a fresh intoxication—nothing to do with his magic—he drew her back beneath the cover of the small orchard that the nuns tended.

  “Genevieve,” he murmured, “I . . .”

  “Just kiss me,” she said and then added, “Please,” as though her urgency matched his.

  He paused for a heartbeat as his eyes drank in the sight of her own closed eyes, long dark lashes resting against the creamy complexion, her cheeks infused with a blush of desire. Their lips met, soft and hesitant. And then Kilt had no further rational thought; instinct took over. Suddenly all those emotional responses he had never paid attention to welled up in him and spilled over; yearning, passion and a longing for love overwhelmed his control. He kissed the Valisar princess more tenderly and yet more deeply than he had ever permitted himself to kiss a woman previously.

  He felt naked. It was as though Genevieve had stripped back all the disguises, all the barriers he had spent a lifetime guarding. She had found him. He was hers. He couldn’t run from her even if he’d wanted to.

  Kilt didn’t know how long they kissed but their ardour had intensified. There was nothing hesitant about their longing any more. And it took his entire reserve of will to pull his head back from hers, sighing as he did so with deep regret as he felt the loss.

  “Don’t say anything,” she whispered. Her face was cupped in his hands, her eyes were misted with emotion. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

  His mouth feeling deliciously swollen from their kissing, he twitched a grin. “I didn’t.”

  “I always have. I’ve always wanted my Prince Charming to come along, sweep me off my feet.”

  He looked back at her, frowning quizzically. “Who is Prince Charming?”

  She chuckled. “No one real. Someone many women dream of.” She shrugged. “We like to believe there is someone perfectly matched to our needs, our wants and desires . . . to who we are. Someone who will protect us and always love us, want us, never tire of being with us . . . even when we’re old and fat.”

  “I could never tire of you. If you’re not making me feel nauseous, you make me feel drunk. Either way, I’m dizzy and light-headed around you. And no woman has ever done that for me.”

  She gave a soft smirk. “I’m not sure I can believe that.”

  Kilt clasped her hands, searching her face. “You can. I have pushed away every woman I’ve known . . . walked away from more than you could count.”

  “Then you would walk away from me.”

  “No,” he insisted. “I don’t think I can. You own me now and in more ways than are obvious. I have never looked for love. I didn’t think it existed. I was prepared to settle for affectionate companionship.”

  She shrank. “There’s a woman in your life? How silly of me. Look at you. Of course there would be.” She tried to pull away but Kilt held her hands too firmly, pulled her back.

  “She loves another. She married him, even. I have been coming to terms with losing her but, Genevieve, the truth is, I was never good enough for her because I only pretended to love her.”

  Evie’s eyes narrowed as she considered this, her gaze never leaving his.

  “But . . . but this bond, this amazing feeling I have with you has shocked me,” Kilt finished.

  “It’s the magic, it’s—”

  “It’s not the Valisar magic. It’s not my magic or your magic. It’s our magic, the magic two people feel when they find the person they want to share everything with. I’ve never had that with anyone until now.”

  Her eyes flashed with a fiery spark. “The moment I was close enough to see you clearly I felt a catch in my throat. Once I’d touched you, I was struggling to be matter of fact about it, but magic aside, I loved you on sight.”

  “I can’t be without you,” Kilt admitted.

  “Do you really mean that?”

  He nodded. “I’m helpless.” He shrugged. “You might as well hack off a piece of me now and cook it.”

  “Don’t ever speak to me of that again.”

  He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of
her soft shiny hair. “I will not leave you. I cannot. I . . .” It felt so strange and clumsy to try and attempt to say it. “Genevieve, I . . .”

  She pulled back. “What?” she said, searching his eyes.

  “I want to be with you. I believe myself hopelessly in love with you.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know everything about you that’s important. You’ve told me all the elements that make you who you are. The rest, if you belch like a man or pick your nose while I’m eating . . .” She began to laugh. “Well, let’s just say I’ll discover that as we grow old together.”

  “Grow old together.” She gave a start.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Corbel. He’ll be worried. I made him promise to leave me alone with you. How long have we been alone?”

  “Long enough that a man in love would be anxious.”

  “A man in love? What do you mean?”

  “For an intelligent woman, you surprise me. Isn’t it obvious to you that Corbel de Vis worships you?”

  “No, no,” she said, smiling, embarrassed. “Corbel’s looked out for me for so long it probably looks that way but we’re just close friends. He—”

  “Genevieve . . . the man is deeply in love with you. Either you’re highly insensitive to the relationship you have with him or he works very diligently to hide his true feelings.”

  She stared at Kilt with a look akin to sorrow. “Has he told you that?”

  “He didn’t have to. You can hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes—just as I told you about Kirin and how he felt about Lily.”

  “Lily’s the woman you mentioned?”

  He nodded. Then gave a small, mirthless gust of a laugh. “Gavriel de Vis fell for her when we were briefly together but she chose me. Now I’m stealing Corbel de Vis’s girl too.”

  “Are you?”

  He stared deep into her eyes. “If she’ll agree to being stolen.”