by Ella Fields
A voice I’d have been happy to have thrum against my skin and sink inside my ears for the rest of my nights and days.
That was then, his callous words reminded me. “You talk of this version of you, yet I cannot place her with what sits before me.”
I rolled to my side and set my head in my hand, finding Raiden in the same position yet obviously awake. How long he’d been conscious for, I didn’t know. At this point, I was beginning to wonder if he ever really was the prince I once knew.
“And what is it that sits before you now, Prince?” Go on, look at me. I dare you.
A throaty chuckle echoed, and then he turned to his back, stretching his arms above his head. Those green eyes, endless meadows and wildflower-wrapped dreams, turned to give me the coldest appraisal I’d ever experienced. “A queen so cruel she needs to create fables just to sleep at night and fool all those around her.”
“You still don’t believe me.” I didn’t know why I bothered to even say the words. He evidently did not. But Zad and then the way he’d been so sick… “You’re lying.”
He barked out a cold laugh, followed by a cough that rattled his chest. “Don’t make me laugh, please. I have the worst headache.”
“What made you remember Zadicus?”
Raiden shifted his attention to the damp ceiling. “If I knew, I’d tell you and perhaps bargain a way out of this cesspit.” When I said nothing, he went on, “You cannot keep me contained forever.”
“I don’t plan to.”
“You will have to let me out unless you plan to kill me while I’m chained like a mutt.”
I contemplated that, as I had before, but at the roiling of my stomach, I pushed the macabre thoughts away. “What I choose to do with you is really of little concern.”
He rolled toward me then, nostrils flaring as though he’d caught a whiff of dinner and was planning to chase it to the dining hall. “You’ve seen her.”
I flashed my teeth in response.
He was on his feet in half a second, rattling the bars so hard and so loud, I wondered if he was remembering his own strength. “What did you…” He stopped, ducking his head and drawing in a heaving breath that shook his shoulders. “Does she live?”
I tittered, moving to sit up. “Of course, she lives.” My smile waned. “For now.”
A groan so pained and raw echoed through the dungeon as he sagged against the bars, his clammy palms sliding over metal. “Why are you doing this to us?”
“It’s a bizarre kind of insanity, isn’t it? Wondering why someone would want to be your demise and knowing there’s a good chance you might never ever find out why.”
“Please,” he said, his voice hoarse now. “Just tell me you haven’t harmed her.”
My stomach became a slush pile of unpredictable waters. I jumped down from my perch and left him there, unable to look at him nor hear his turmoil for her for another second.
“Tell me!”
I didn’t stop, but as my hips swayed, my skirts a dark cloud flying on a phantom wind around me, I laughed.
I laughed, and I laughed, and then I cut it off at the gates to the dungeon. “I think I’ve spun enough fables for one evening.”
“I’ll kill you,” he roared, his voice charging through the closing door, that thrumming beat of magic within trying to resurface. “I swear it on the goddesses, I’ll kill you for all this and more.”
“Such lovely threats from lips you once loved.”
I stopped, the dungeon door booming shut behind me. “There’s plenty of salt in my wounds already.” I tightened my cloak. “No need to add any more.” Stalking by him, I began climbing the stairs.
Zad was at my side before my next heartbeat. “You should have his tongue for uttering such filth to you.”
I inhaled that crisp clove scent of his and felt my shoulders loosen. “I have no desire to torture him. Not when he will meet his end soon enough.”
Zad kept quiet until we’d reached the second floor. We passed the kitchens where staff flitted about, the clang of pots and pans and the scent of curried fish lifting my weary feet faster over the coarse fabric of the rug lining the hall.
His silence was etching on my last fraying nerve as we rounded the corner and took the stairs to the third floor.
“For darkness’ sake, speak,” I snapped. “I’ve never known you to keep words to yourself before, so no need to start being selfish now.”
He laughed, the sound a deep, dark purr—like feathers brushing over skin in the shadows of night. I shook off the shiver that threatened to unfurl and breezed into the dining room.
Zad beat me to the head of the table and untucked the gilded, velvet-lined chair. I took a seat and shooed him to his own when he tried to scoot my chair in.
“Well?” I prodded again, patience waning as he unfolded a napkin and set it beside my plate.
He took his time meeting my gaze, resting his chin upon a fist as his curled lashes shifted with every pass of his eyes over my face. “You won’t torture him, but you will torture the woman.”
My blood nearly crystalized, but I feigned nonchalance as I asked, “Just how did you come about this information?”
He ran his tongue over his teeth, then smiled like a wolf who’d just found his supper. “Why, you just confirmed my suspicions is all, my queen.”
My hand fisted around the fork, the metal threatening to bend. “You think you’re so clever.”
That maddening grin stayed, brightening his eyes and stirring my lower stomach. “How many times have you paid her a visit?”
Mintale’s voice echoed from down the hall, traveling to the dining room. I kept an eye on the doors as I reluctantly admitted, “Just the once.”
Zad huffed a low laugh. “My dear Audra, only once?” He plucked up his fork, inspecting his perfect teeth in the gleaming silver. “Though I do bet you made it count.”
I grinned. “But of course.”
Mintale and Ainx entered, the latter taking post by the doors as the kitchen staff poured into the room. More sconces were lit as steaming trays of meats, ripe salads, and carefully dressed fish were set before me and the lord of the east.
Zad, ever the cautious, made a point to sniff each tray, and even went so far as to dip his fingers into the dishes and taste the food.
I smiled wanly at the affronted looking cooks. “Do you think I’d keep staff who wish to poison me?”
Zad looked from me to Foelda, the head cook, and sat back in his chair at my right side, seemingly unperturbed.
I sighed, then waved a hand at her and the other three cooks. “Leave us.”
Once they had, Mintale’s mouth opening and closing as he stood by the moonlit window, Zad turned to me with a groove between his brows. “You need to be profiling them on a weekly basis, at the very minimum.”
“My lord,” Mintale cut in with a slight bow as he approached the table. “We started undertaking such measures many months ago.”
I pulled the plate of stuffed chicken closer and speared a chunk from the breast, depositing it on my plate, then reached for the salad. “You take me for a distracted fool, don’t you, Lord?”
His silence spoke volumes.
A full minute later, he filled my goblet with water, and I pushed the salad dish away. “It’s not that at all.”
Mintale’s hands were gripping the varnished wood of the empty chair to my left. “Our queen is well aware of the threats to her well-being. I can assure you that we are taking every precaution.”
“You’re really too sweet for caring,” I said, taking a sip of cool water. I eyed him over the vine-bedecked rim. “But I mostly find it insulting.”
Zad smiled, a coiled serpent. “Forgive me for worrying, but with rumors spreading of peculiar activity to the west of the mountain valley’s villages, I thought it necessary.”
“Oh?” I set my water down. “And when were you planning to tell me of this peculiar activity?” It was undoubtedly why he was here, along with other re
asons.
Mintale’s face was paling. “Of what sort? More traitors? That of the Sun Kingdom?”
Zad cut into his fish. “I’ve not had confirmation, but I have men in the area who are keeping an eye on things.” He threw a brief look at me. “Subtly, so as to not cause any suspicion.”
I poked at my chicken for a minute as he and Mintale squabbled. “What of these men? Friends of yours, I presume?”
“Yes.”
Interesting that he said no more than that, his eyes steadfast on his meal.
I took a bite of chicken, then another as I watched him, yet his expression remained carefully blank. “What is this peculiar activity?”
Mintale nodded. “We need to draw them out, capture them, and garner information.”
Zad looked as though he wanted to roll his eyes at my advisor. “New residents in the hills, camping with the gypsies.”
“Gypsies are not residents, nor do they allow others to simply join them unless initiated or born into.” Gypsies roamed from one place to another every full moon, their wagons squeaking, lanterns bobbing, and crones chanting.
Zad gave me a hard look that said, exactly.
I huffed and speared more food, chewing agitatedly.
“Apparently, they keep to themselves until the market, where they’ve been asking lots of questions.”
“Do you know what they’re asking?”
Zadicus sipped his wine. “Enquiring about weapons, mostly.” He set his wine down. “What got the townsfolk talking was the request for catapults.”
My brows shot up, and I grinned. “What, they plan to storm the castle with half a dozen catapults?” I almost laughed but refrained. Just.
He leveled me with a flat look. “If they could somehow get their hands on some, then yes, I’m assuming so.”
They weren’t exactly easy to come by. They needed to be manufactured. One could do so themselves, but it depended on what time of winter it was as to how usable the sources would be.
“Find them. Have them brought here,” I said with a glance at Mintale. “I’d rather not have their hate and whatever schemes they’re planning reach more easily influenced ears.”
Mintale was already scurrying off. I forced back a groan. “It can wait until you’ve eaten.”
“It’s quite all right, my queen. The sooner we act, the better,” he said, then disappeared out the doors.
Zad watched him go, his arm draped over the back of the chair beside his. “Loyal to a fault.”
I returned my attention to my food, but not even a minute later, the doors crashed open.
Klaud swept in, wearing half his training uniform, golden hair falling into his bloodshot brown eyes. With his fists balled at his sides, he marched straight for me.
I gestured to Ainx, and he froze, his expression reeking of displeasure as he eyed the male.
He and Zad stiffened as Klaud banged a fist on the table, causing steamed vegetables to bounce off the plate and roll over the table linen. “You sit here, eating your perfect food, in your perfect castle, and with some other male,” he cut his eyes at the lord, whose top lip was peeling back over his teeth as he snarled low, then he looked back at me, growling, “while Berron rots somewhere in his own filth, likely dying.”
More guards from outside stepped in, marching to the enraged mixed blood.
I raised a hand, and they halted but did not retreat.
“We traveled there,” I said carefully. “You know this, surely.” It took more strength than I thought it would to hold his incredulous gaze.
His face reddened further. “Yet he is not here.”
I could tell by the power rolling off Zad in heavy waves that he remained silent out of respect for me and nothing else. Part of me wished he wouldn’t. That he would explain all that had happened and then force him from the room with a swift kick up the ass.
That part was a nuisance I thought long dead.
I steeled my shoulders, then set my fork down. “We tried, and we lost many good soldiers in doing so.”
“You tried,” he repeated, tone mocking. “Would you like a pat on the back? A sweet? Because as far as I can see, many a long day and night have passed, and you’ve not made any plans to try again.”
He had me there, and he knew it. “It’s not that simple.” It wasn’t. “And that’s not an excuse but the truth. We were severely outnumbered, and he took a spear to his side. Truth be told, I do not even know if he lives.”
“He is half royal. He is not so easily bested,” he said, lips twitching. “I know it’s hard for you to think anyone not of pure blood can survive such things, but we can. He can, and I’m certain he has.” He paused, his eyes shuttering. “I would feel it had he departed for the darkness.”
My chest squeezed, and I gritted my teeth against the tightness. “Klaud, we have other matters that need our attention, but believe me when I say that this is not the end.”
“Oh, I know all about your other matters.” He bent low, creeping farther up the table to hiss into my face. “Your precious traitorous husband is the reason he is trapped there.” He spat, a glob of saliva landing on the side of my plate. “You’re no queen. You’re a child playing with your toys as you see fit while everyone around you suffers.”
Zadicus had apparently had enough and leaped over the table in half a breath, his chair crashing to the floor. His fist crunched into Klaud’s cheek as they collided with the ground, and growling and snarling sounded from behind me. I stared at the fallen chair, floating on a dark breeze, hardly breathing, hardly seeing.
Then I blinked, and the guards were escorting the cursing soldier out the doors.
“You can arrest me, trial me, Audra, but guess what? It is you who will burn for your father’s mistakes if you do not grow a heart and fix them.”
His words burrowed deep, sinking inside me like laced stones, plummeting and poisoning every vital organ they touched.
I was staring at the marred meal before me when Zad returned. “He’s being dragged to the dungeon.”
I nodded, pushing my chair back. “See to it that he’s released by morning.”
“Wha—”
“I’ll not be requiring your company tonight.”
Mintale raced back into the dining room, his beaded eyes darting back and forth between us. “What has happened?”
“Lord Allblood can fill you in.” I breezed by them, cutlery and drapes rattling and rocking in my wake.
I didn’t so much as try to harness the storm inside me. I let it breathe as I struggled to do the same.
Inside my rooms, I lowered myself into the filling tub, allowing it to fill my lungs as I sank into the bubbling silence.
Untold minutes later, I emerged and toweled off, then padded naked into my bedchamber.
Zad was sitting by the fire, staring into the crackling flames. “I thought I told you—”
“You’ll find I care very little about what you’ve told me.”
I tugged on an emerald silk robe, then grabbed my brush and began dragging it through my wet hair.
“Come here, Audra.”
“I’m not a mutt. I do not come on command.”
His wolfish smirk almost had the brush flying at his head. “But do you not?”
I sniffed, then grudgingly walked over to the opposite armchair. Before I could fall into it, his hand coiled around mine and tugged. Then he gripped me by the waist and set me on the floor before his feet.
I was too drained, too much of nothing to care about where he’d positioned me. A queen. His queen. Sitting beneath him on the floor. Not a queen at all.
You’re no queen.
Gently, he pried the brush from my fingers and gathered my hair behind my head. I let my eyes shut and felt everything that had knotted inside me slowly unravel with every careful stroke of the bristles through my hair.
“You shouldn’t listen to him. Returning for Berron without a considerable army is out of the question.”
“War,”
I said. “My kingdom, my continent, would be at war.”
“It’s looking to be that way already.” Zad’s voice was gentle but firm. “The decision to march lies in your hands.”
“I might be the daughter of a tyrant, and I know I’m definitely no saint, but so many would die.” I swallowed. “So many unnecessary deaths.”
The lord hummed, his words gruff. “You continue to surprise me.”
“Did you think I would not care?”
“You do a fabulous job of pretending you don’t.” Those words slid over every inch of my skin, drying flesh that was still damp.
“I cannot make an example of an entire kingdom.”
Zad was quiet for long moments. Flames licked at the hearth, crackling and spitting. “No, you cannot. Though I do wonder, is it because of your king’s return? Or because you truly want to spare them?”
I turned and glared at him.
His eyes smiled. “There she is.”
“Not everything revolves around Raiden.”
Zad sat back as I stood, rubbing a hand over his chin. “How easily you say his name once again.”
I snatched the brush from him. “Enough.”
He grabbed my wrist, pulling me sideways onto his lap. “You can do many things to me, my queen.” His hand slid over my chest and up my neck to frame the side of my face. “But don’t you ever try to spin your beautiful lies on me.”
“What do you want from me?” I searched his firelit eyes, not recognizing my cracking voice. “Everyone wants something from me. Everyone.”
“Never just you,” he surmised.
We stared as I waited. I waited, and I didn’t even know why.
The reason came when he murmured to my nose, his eyelids closing and touch slipping. “I must take my leave.” The breath behind his near-silent words… I knew he wasn’t just saying for a time. He was leaving, and he wasn’t sure when or if he’d return.
Panic flared, burning my limbs as I gripped his cheek. “Everyone leaves.”
My mother.
My cutthroat father.
My husband.
My friend.
And now my lover.
“You need only ask for someone to stay, but,” he said, his next words toneless, “I’m not so sure you can.” He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “I think in time, Raiden is going to remember, if he hasn’t already, and you will be forced to make some very hard decisions.” That crooked smile appeared. “And I’m nobody’s hard decision.”
