A King So Cold

by Ella Fields

  With a sigh, I shifted my leg down from the sill, my nightgown falling to the floor as I stood and walked over to the table, taking a seat.

  Raiden busied himself with my books, flipping through the pages while I tipped the bowl to my lips and drained half of it.

  Setting it down, I looked up to find Raiden watching me. “You can leave at any moment.”

  “Why do I feel as though you don’t mean that?” Stepping closer, he dragged a finger over the table through a drop of soup, then lifted it to his mouth to suck. “Not entirely.”

  “What is it you hope to achieve here?”

  “Forgiveness. Peace.” I ignored the curving of his lips, the way his voice dropped lower as he finished his sentence. “Among other things.”

  I ignored it even though I knew I shouldn’t. “You’ve played a lot of games with me, King. So you’ll have to excuse me if I find myself exhausted and wary.”

  “The first one was necessary.”

  The words he’d said to me in the dungeon and the vehemence behind them had eaten at my mind for hours on end during the long trip home from his kingdom, with nothing to do but store my anger as Truin laid asleep upon my lap. “Have you ever taken theatre lessons?”

  A confused laugh left him as he said, “Have I what?”

  I gazed up at him, reminding him, “The things you said in my dungeon. The things you called me. The cold, callous attitude you harbored so well.” I smiled, flashing my teeth. “So believable, so…” I pursed my lips, remembering, you’re one of the coldest bitches I’ve ever encountered. “Heartfelt.”

  His lips rolled, and he began to pace the floor around one of the rugs as he no doubt chose his words carefully. “I had to.”

  “You had to,” I repeated, trying to keep my temper in check.

  He stopped, his attention on his chestnut boots. “You needed to believe I didn’t remember you at all, therefore, that the stranger I was detested you. You needed to spend enough time with me, with who we’d been, if I stood a chance at being given another chance.” His eyes affixed themselves to mine, a plea within. “Just as you do now.”

  My tone was whisper soft and full of incredulity. “I can assure you, I do not need to do a damn thing.” I withheld the wince, the knocking on my gut.

  It would seem I couldn’t play nice after all. Still, knowing was useless. I had to try.

  “We entered into this marriage for a reason,” he said after a few cooling moments had passed.

  “Peace,” I said.

  “Love,” he said at the same time.

  I crossed my legs, slinging my arm over the back of the chair as he growled and began to pace again. “You are infuriatingly stubborn.”

  “You’re just plain infuriating.”

  He laughed, sobering quickly as he halted and stared at me. “Audra.” My name was a silent breath. Coming closer, he lowered to his knees, startling me. “Audra, not only do I want peace. I want, no, I need you.”

  Reaching out, I brushed my finger over his hairline, then down his cheek, my nail skimming the hair prickling his jaw. His eyes shuttered, his throat dipping. “We are born alone, and we die alone,” I whispered, sweet and matter-of-factly. “We need no one but ourselves.” I knew the words were a harsh lie, but I’d already believed plenty, so why not another.

  “You know that’s not true.” His hand gently wrapped around my wrist when my finger moved away from his chin. “You need time, and I can give that to you.”

  I needed more than time. “The one thing we have is time, King.”

  “I can be patient.”

  “Does patience involve whipping and bringing another female to climax?”

  “I was desperate,” he rasped. “A fool.”

  I was beginning to think I’d been the only foolish one for ever giving him a piece of me.

  A piece that now belonged to someone else.

  Someone I could not have.

  This, I thought, peering down into somber green eyes. I had this. This was the bed I’d made for myself, and there was little point in acting like a brat about it anymore.

  Standing, Raiden gently tugged at my wrist, and after drawing in a deep breath, I released it, allowing him to pull me up and into his arms.

  Upon the bed, he tugged at the fabric of my nightgown. I heard it rip, the sound similar to the odd fissuring inside my chest. His boots clomped to the floor, the whistling sweep of his pants following.

  Crawling between my legs, he dragged his lips up my thigh to my stomach, and then my breasts, his tongue and teeth tender as he teased and tugged.

  His hands roamed my sides, one sneaking between my legs. I was wet but not enough.

  It didn’t matter. When he murmured, “You rob me of breath,” I clasped both sides of his lying face and brought his mouth to mine.

  My entire body pulled taut as he entered me, the discomfort sharp enough to have my back arching.

  He took it for a sign of pleasure, growling with satisfaction as his lips trailed up my chest and over my neck. When they reached the curve of my shoulder, the same place I’d been marked by both males before, the world turned an array of gray and black.

  Dizzy with panic, I shoved him off me and scrambled off the bed.

  “Audra.”

  Grabbing my robe, I looped it around me, plunging my hand into my hair.

  “Silk, come here.”

  My chest was heaving, harsh waves of air leaving me, and not enough entering to fill my lungs. “No.”

  The drapes swirled, the fire almost burning out, as the room became gusty and the sconces dimmed.

  “Hey.” Arms came around me, stilling me, his voice low. “Hey, settle. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not,” I wheezed, burning.

  He held me until I gathered my static emotions and finally managed to lock them back in their cage. “What happened there?” he asked, carefully.

  “I’m…” I stopped, twisting in his arms and stepping back to find his brow furrowed, and his shoulders tense. He was preparing himself for the worst to leave my mouth. “I’m just… not ready,” I lied.

  Raiden licked his lips, nodding, then snatched his pants and tugged them on. “It’s too soon. I knew it was.”

  Blinking, I stood there as he finished dressing and stomped into his boots.

  Before he left, he asked, “May I at least stay with you?”

  I should let him, I thought. But I shook my head, my eyes closing.

  I waited for his footsteps to near the doors, but nothing happened.

  Then, quiet and urgent, he grabbed the back of my head and pressed his lips to my temple. “If you think I’ll give in, then you never really knew me at all.”

  When I could no longer sense him, I hurried to the doors, locked them, and slid to the cold ground.

  Darkness and silence were two things I’d learned to make friends with many years ago.

  So it was to no one’s surprise when I scarcely left my rooms for days at a time, choosing to sit at the window or lay in my bathing tub for hours.

  Mintale supplied me with any urgent documents to sign, minor problems to solve, and approvals that needed granting. Truin remained at home. And Raiden… last I’d heard, he was inserting himself in the city at local taverns, the theater, and darkness knows where else, with his guards.

  “To get people used to his presence,” Mintale had explained when I’d asked why.

  I’d wanted to snap that he had his half of the continent, and I had mine, and there was no need for anyone to get comfortable with anything.

  But that wasn’t true.

  We had made an alliance, and he was doing his part to make that clear. Which was far more than I could say for myself.

  Mintale entered, studying the dark room as he did. “Majesty,” he said, bowing.

  I blinked, a slow sweep of my heavy lashes, and yawned.

  “The king has made plans.”

  Shifting away from the cold window, my feet hit the even colder floor, the s
kirts of my dress swaying around my ankles. “What plans?”

  His lips flattened in that way they did when he knew he was about to piss me off. “A ball. For any and all residents of Rosinthe to attend. On the next full moon.”

  I felt my brows scrunch, and then I laughed. “I am in no mood for jokes.”

  Mintale nodded. “I’m afraid it’s, ah, no joke, your majesty. King Raiden is preparing to make the formal announcement as we speak. He merely awaits your approval.”

  My lips smacked closed, and I turned back to the window, snow flurries dancing on the other side.

  He was insane. To invite the entire continent, not that everyone would show… “There won’t be enough room.” Castle or not, we’d have people spilling into every hall, every available room, every garden, the courtyards, and the city streets beyond.

  “He has said that when the castle has reached close to full capacity, we could stop allowing people entry until other guests leave.”

  Of course. For every question, he’d forever find an answer.

  Looking back at my advisor, I asked, “And what do you think of this ludicrous idea?”

  Mintale’s cheeks billowed as he scratched at his hairy jaw. “I think it’s dangerous, but I can see the merit in taking the risk. He wants it to be known, far and wide, that there is peace and unity, and that any acts of treason taken against the crown are now an act of treason against the entire continent.”

  “And by merit you mean we hope to show the people of this perilous land that I am, in fact, not a monster, not my father, and that we see them as equals?”

  Mintale’s brows sank to meet his eyes. “Well, equals is perhaps putting a bit of a gold spin on it.”

  “To have commoners,” I said, standing now, “humans and darkness knows what other creatures, enter royal ground is not only taking an asinine risk but it also shows them where they can hurt us most, should anyone else be planning to.”

  “And this is why you are queen, my lady,” Mintale said with a hint of a smile. “I will pass this information on and tell him it is out of the question.” He dipped and hustled to the doors, and I stared at the space where he’d been standing, wondering what the hell Raiden was thinking.

  A unified front.

  A front indeed.

  “Mintale,” I called.

  He turned back, waiting in the doorway.

  It almost hurt to say it, the words burning as they rode along my next breath. “Tell our king he can have his ball.” With something tapping within my chest, faster and faster as the thought grew wings, I said, “Be sure the lord of the east is in attendance, as well as the king’s favored lover, Eline.”

  Clearing his throat, Mintale murmured, “Of course, my queen.”

  “Oh, one more thing.” Traipsing to the bed, I folded onto it as Mintale waited, his head tilted. “It will be masquerade, or there shall be no ball at all.”

  With a confused smile, he dipped once more, then scuttled from the room.

  The latch of the meeting doors echoed through my silent sanctuary.

  Snatching the dagger from my nightstand, I dragged its roughly hewn side over my jagged nails. “If the scheming king wants a ball, then a ball he shall have.”

  The gardens were drowning in silver and gold.

  My hands itched with the urge to pluck the garland and wreaths and baubles from the roses and tulips and send them flying at the heads of those who’d strung them over their thorns and leaves. Instead, I gently removed anything that would damage the stems and slipped the décor into the leafy bushes behind them.

  Footsteps crunched, followed by a throat being cleared. I took my time straightening, finding Klaud when I turned.

  His gold hair shone beneath the waning sun trying to poke through the heavy clouds.

  With the ball set to take place tonight, I’d managed to wrestle my emotions into compliance. That prickly needy sensation inside me simmered low, knowing the lord would soon be within touching distance.

  Snow sat in fat chunks against the castle walls and gardens, cleared from pathways and steps and the city streets. Still, the frost remained, an added shimmering extravagance I doubted many besides myself would appreciate.

  Klaud bowed, deep and graceful, his brown eyes struggling to maintain contact. They flickered around the empty gardens. “Your majesty.”

  I dragged my tongue over the bottom of my teeth, tucking my hands before me. The belled sleeves of my dress joined to cover them. “Come to spit more filth at me? I cannot be sure you will walk away unscathed this time.” My nose twitched. “In fact, I can guarantee you won’t, as I’m in no mood for such disrespect.”

  His gaze shifted to the gardens, as if he knew the way they’d been trussed up was partly the reason, then back to me. With a wry smile, he said, “Actually, I came to apologize. I was out of line and terribly frightened.”

  I hummed, eyeing him down the bridge of my nose. “You were indeed out of line.”

  “He won’t…” He stopped, retreating a step.

  I moved on to a group of tulips, freeing them of the garland choking their necks, and loosened it. “Talk to you? I’m afraid that problem is not mine.”

  “I know,” he said. “But he cares for you.” He said the words as though the fact he had to annoyed him worse than the truth of them. “He cares for you, and so after the way I reacted, he refuses to acknowledge my existence.”

  Moving to a rose, I dragged my thumb over a thorn, blood popping through the skin. Turning to the young soldier, I placed the digit in my mouth and sucked.

  His eyes narrowed as my tongue smeared blood around my lips, and then he swallowed.

  “My mother used to say that those baring claws are not always so sharp.” I circled him, my boots barely making a sound, my voice low. “Tell me, Klaud. Do you consider your claws sharp?”

  Confusion swept his brows together, his head turning this way and that to keep sight of me. “My queen…?”

  I stopped, staring him dead in the eye. “Berron is sharp, and he need not show that he is sharper than most. So quit sniveling about like a wounded mutt and go back to your quarters to sharpen your mind rather than those useless claws.” Backing up a step, I watched understanding light his boyish features. “And next time you deem it necessary to bother me with troubles that do not concern me, remember I can do so much worse than take your favored male for myself.”

  My cloak billowed behind me, the wind catching it within its grasp before I entered the courtyard and passed waiting guards to the drawing room.

  The halls were teeming with wreaths of roses, and I winced, finding that most had been dyed gold and silver, the colors of our kingdoms, of which we’d chosen to represent our unity.

  Kitchen staff and maids fluttered past, bopping their heads quickly before hurrying to their next task.

  At the foot of the stairs, Raiden waited, eating a peach and licking the juice from his lips. “Silk.”

  “Liar.”

  With a chuckle, he joined me, heading upstairs. “I must say, I am glad to see you outside your rooms.”

  “My home is about to be put on display for the entire continent to see,” I snapped. “Naturally, I need to keep tabs on the preparations.”

  “Naturally,” he said.

  At the top of the stairs, I whirled on him. “Dare I ask what it is you want?”

  “Oh, you should know better than that.” His teeth sank into the juicy fruit, his strong jaw working as he chewed. “Are you nervous?”

  Annoyed, I shook my head. “You came to ask me if I am nervous?”

  He tipped a shoulder. “It’s a valid question. As you said, a great deal of people will soon be arriving.”

  “Then I’ll need a great deal of time to get ready,” I said, walking away. “So if you’ll excuse me.”

  His eyes tracked me until I was out of sight.

  “Enter,” I called, affixing the second braid to the top of my head.

  “Beautiful, my queen.”

/>   The pin fell from my fingers into the overflow of silk in my lap as I gazed at the reflection behind mine in the mirror.

  Truin smiled, closing the doors. In a gown of pale blue, her hair out and pressing heavy over her thin shoulders, she walked across the room.

  “You came.”

  Plucking another pin from the table, she clasped the braid that’d fallen from my head and carefully spiraled it into a loop that met the other. The pin gently dug into the strands, holding it in place, and then her hands fell upon my shoulders.

  Brown eyes shined. “You cannot throw a party this big and expect me not to attend.”

  That was precisely why I’d thought she wouldn’t.

  Knowing that, her eyes dropped, and the scent of citrus wafted as she rounded where I sat to the jeweled crown of thorns perched upon a pillow inside the glass cabinet. “I miss my friends, I miss noise, and I miss being unafraid.” Pulling her shoulders back, she said with steel, “So I am ready to stop missing those things. To try harder.”

  Her fingers pried the glass into the air, and she set it down on the bureau before picking up the crown. The silver glinted in the shadowed light of the room. Truin turned to me. “Are you ready?”

  Staring at the thorns, the twisting branches that weaved together amongst emerald jeweled leaves to make a heavy piece of metal seem more than, I found I could not answer.

  I didn’t want to wear it. The crown. The same one that’d been worn by my father, my grandfather, and my great-grandmother, and countless royals before me.

  It was riddled with ghosts, their transgressions, their greed, their failures, and their bloodstained success.

  I had no room, no desire, to drape the souls of those before me upon my head for all to see.

  “A queen does not need a crown for all the land to know who she is.”

  Truin’s lips twitched, pursing. “Be that as it may, you must wear it for the tedious welcome at least. Oh, and the speeches.”

  “I’ve a mask.” My fingers swept out to stroke the black feathers that would shield half my face. “It will clash horribly.”

  Truin laughed, and the sound ignited a smile.

  My cheeks tingled, and I huffed. “Fine.”