Dark Court: The Final Hour

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Dark Court: The Final Hour Page 17

by Camille Oster


  “Then perhaps I did you a favor by burning your kingdom to the ground. For all that, I am glad you have landed on your feet. I should never have doubted you. Congratulations.” She went to move away.

  “Good luck with your laws. Funny role you’ve taken on as you have a tendency to break every rule there is.”

  “Only stupid rules. Unfortunately Niesen Woord has turned up too, like a bad penny.”

  “I would have thought he’d be guarding the ashes of the citadel.”

  “He’s trying to. Making a nuisance of himself, wanting to reinstate the bulk of Raufasger’s laws. I think the Naufren have sent him in on their behalf.”

  “They are going to want to have some voice.”

  She watched him for a moment, then sighed. “In time, we might have to give them a place on the council, even after they rejected the idea to begin with.”

  “They won’t be left out in the cold forever. And sadly, I’m not much of a friend,” he said with a smile. “Never been much for community service. I have an empire to build, after all.”

  “Well, good luck.”

  She started to turn away.

  “We can be more than this,” he said.

  “Do you never give up?”

  “No, I’ve not been known to once I know what I want.”

  “I ruined everything for you.”

  “I don’t hold grudges.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “To me, it has always been about me and you,” he stated.

  “There was one point when I needed you to make it about me and you, and you didn’t.”

  “I did what I thought I had to.”

  “So did I,” she returned.

  “You were the one who made it about something other than me and you.”

  Silence filled the space between them. “Our children need a better future.”

  “Our children?”

  “I’m speaking generally.”

  “I’m not.”

  She sighed, as if she didn’t want to deal with this. That wasn’t an option. He was not going to be swept aside.

  “You have no right to keep my daughter from me. You can’t claim you are protecting her. There is nothing that stops it from being spiteful.”

  “I’m not spiteful.”

  “Then I will come see her.”

  “If you must,” she relented. Roisen knew full well he was manipulating her and he felt no qualms about it. The thing with Ashra was her stiff sense of right and wrong, a logic that could be used in any negotiation with her.

  “Then I will come tomorrow.”

  She wasn’t happy, but her code wouldn’t allow her to be spiteful. Her code forced her to acknowledge he had some rights, even if there wasn’t a law in the land that said so. Hell, she wrote the laws.

  Chapter 34

  CLENCHING HER FINGERS together, Ashra released them again. The peace she had found here in her house, away from the disapproving stares and endless sighs from the dowager Lady Greve, was now interrupted by the one that tends to disrupt her the most. Some things never changed, it seemed.

  It would have been childish to deny him completely. Technically he had no right to Charis, but he had twisted her sentiment and her beliefs. She’d known exactly what he was doing, but she refused to be spiteful. The world they were building would be one of kindness, of inclusion. How could she then turn around and say he had no rights because there wasn’t a liege in place to force her to acknowledge him as Charis’ father?

  In a way, it amused her that nothing had changed for Roisen other than the circumstances. He was exactly the same and had changed when the game changed around him. There wasn’t any rhetoric with him, any firm beliefs; he simply took what was presented and determined how he could make it work for him. He’d never been invested in Raufasger’s regime other than that being the place where it was happening. Now it wasn’t, and he was taking full advantage of his new opportunities.

  Obviously everyone hated him, but that had always been the case. People had always been wary of him and they had a right to be.

  A knock sounded on the door and Ashra wiped her hands down her skirt. Perhaps she wouldn’t be so nervous, so uncomfortable if he was angry and bitter. At least he wasn’t dead. It would sit on her conscience for the rest of her life if her actions had resulted in his death, and then she would have to explain to Charis one day what had happened to her father.

  Taking a breath, she prepared to open the door, not sure she wanted to let him in. Roisen had a way of getting what he wanted, and he wanted to be here. For exactly what intention, she hadn’t yet worked out. Maybe there was some level of vengeance that he hid inside him.

  “Hi,” she said when she opened the door and let him in. The kitchen was warm, but simple. There were no luxuries brought from the Greve estate. Fineries were too linked with what they had fought against. Besides, Ashra had never seen any value in them. This house had walls and soft beds. It protected them and gave them the space they needed. What was so wrong with that?

  Roisen looked around, observing everything—gathering munitions the way he always did. “So you’ve given up on the Greve Manor.”

  “I had reason to believe I was exposed and unprotected there.”

  Roisen watched her for a moment. “Against whom?”

  “Against those who seek retribution.”

  “No one could think that was advisable. You are a founder of a new nation. There wouldn’t be anywhere to hide for someone who attacked you.”

  In a way she was pleased he believed so. “Some don’t have a great deal of foresight.”

  “That is true,” Roisen conceded.

  “Besides, the dowager Lady Greve is not exactly thrilled with recent developments. Especially that I gave the land away.”

  “Doesn’t have your penchant for personal sacrifice?”

  “A sacrifice that buys the future for the people of this land.”

  “Not to mention sacrificing my lands,” he added.

  “Well that was just war restitution. It secures peace in this land. Even you have to admit it is a worthy goal.”

  “I am by far not as civilly minded as you.”

  “Even you have to admit this is far better than having a lunatic like Raufasger running the show.”

  “For the record, I would have made a wonderful liege.”

  “It’s actually not in your nature to rule. You need someone to compete against, and a way of cutting your losses when people aren’t achieving for you. Can’t do any of that when you’re a liege. Not only do you have to be civilly minded, you are civility personified. It goes against everything in your nature.”

  “Is that so?” he said.

  “Admit that you love taking advantage of the opportunities now,” she said, “while all the other Naufren are sitting on their laurels, clinging to their land that gives them none of the power it used to. The game has changed and you have moved with it, while all the others haven’t. Admit you love it.”

  A small grin on his lips showed that he did, although he wasn’t prepared to admit it.

  “That is what our sacrifice has affected. Or would you rather be sitting at your estate wondering when someone was going to come and acknowledge you?”

  “I never wait for anyone.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Although I waited for you,” he said and took a step closer. Not close, but the movement was noted. Ashra’s throat closed over. “And then you came and destroyed everything.”

  “You know my reasons.”

  “Because you didn’t believe in me.”

  Ashra went to open her mouth, but then closed it again. “I had another vision.”

  “That included sacrificing us.”

  It was hard to argue that one. “Yes.”

  Twisting his head slightly, he watched her. He seemed pleased with her answer. And it was a relief to finally acknowledge it. She had sacrificed him for the greater good of her people, even to the point where it could have
killed him— it was even surprising that it hadn’t. “I won’t apologize.”

  “I’m not sure I’d think better of you if you did.”

  Did he think badly of her for what she’d done? It would hardly be surprising. Who wanted to be sacrificed for their lover’s ambition? It was the thing she had always feared he would do to her, and in the end, it had been exactly what she’d done to him. Maybe they were more alike than she had ever admitted. Might also be the reason why he wasn’t strangling her right now.

  “So now what?” he said.

  “I am done.”

  “Don’t you need someone to compete against?”

  “No, I never did. It is how we are different. I just want peace.”

  “To raise the next generation.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, let’s see this daughter of mine. With our combined ambitions, perhaps the world should fear her walking in the world.”

  “It’ll be some time before she walks in any regard. She is getting quite good a rolling over.”

  Ashra led the way up the narrow stairs of the house, so very conscious that he was behind her. Not only did he make her nervous, introducing her daughter to him made her more so. Not that she thought he’d ever harm her. It was more that ambition in him stoking up.

  The wooden floorboards creaked as they walked toward the nursery and opened a door. Tabain was sitting on the rug, playing with a toy. He looked up as they walked in, his eyes shifting to Roisen.

  “Hello, Greve offspring. We have met once before.”

  Tabain moved to stand behind her skirt where he peeked at the stranger that had come to the house. Too young to understand that this was Charis’ father. Perhaps there had also been some threatening words exchanged the last time they had spoken in Tabain’s presence. The grown-up world was complicated, but how did one explain that to a four-year-old?

  A coo came from the crib, where Charis had been napping. The noise drew Roisen’s attention and he stepped over and looked down on her. A frown drew together his brow for a moment. “She looks like me.”

  “That tends to happen,” Ashra said, stopping herself from rushing forward as Roisen reached down to pick her up. She seemed so small in his hands. As opposed to Tabain, Charis wasn’t frightened of him, but she wasn’t a terribly anxious child. Curiosity seemed to be her mainstay. She cooed again.

  “They’re impossibly cute, aren’t they?” Roisen said. “Nature does that so we take care of them. But not all babies are this handsome.”

  “We take care of them irrespectively. All parents love their children.”

  “Not all of them,” he said darkly. “But you are a handsome little girl. Look how big her eyes are.”

  “She’s a baby.”

  “Those are my eyes. I think we should have more.”

  “What? Hang on,” Ashra said, absorbing the statement. “We’re not—”

  “Five, six. Can you imagine the empire we can build with half a dozen?”

  “We’re not building an empire.”

  “We’ve already started, haven’t we?” He looked at her. “Are you going to deny me my very family? Is there nothing you will let me have?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “You’re being spiteful and cruel.”

  “I’m not. Stop trying to manipulate me.”

  “How else am I going to get what I want?” he said, stepping closer to her with Charis sitting on his arm. “You tore down what I created for us, so fine, we’ll do it your way.”

  “Maybe you need to take that as a hint.”

  “I’ll take this as a hint,” he said, looking down at Charis. “She’s perfect. We should definitely make more. I want my family. What exactly is your objection to me?”

  “It’s not—”

  “Because we both know that we are exactly alike, and you rejecting me for objections to things in me that you do yourself—and so much better than me, may I add. Well, that is just… unjustifiable.”

  “That is completely untrue. Fine, on the surface, some of our actions seem alike, but I am nothing like you.” Even as she said it, she knew she held no convinction.

  “Ambitious beyond anything I ever dreamed.”

  “It was necessary.”

  “Ruthless.”

  “Also necessary,” Ashra admitted through gritted teeth.

  “Capable.”

  It was hard to argue that one.

  “Compelling.”

  “That’s going a bit far. Are you saying you’re compelling?”

  “Of course I am. Remember making her?”

  “Ugh.”

  “I remember. We need to make more, don’t we?” he said, turning his attention back to Charis. “And she smells so lovely. Look at those tiny fingers. Big eyes and a tiny nose. Her little mouth is like a doll’s. This child is perfection.”

  Ashra sighed. It was impossible to argue that.

  “Look what we made,” Roisen continued. “Don’t tell me you don’t want another.”

  “It was rather stressful.”

  “It won’t be this time. Although this house is much too small.”

  “There is nothing wrong with this house.”

  “If I stretch my arms out, I can just about touch both walls.”

  “I’m not moving.”

  “Then we will just have to extend it, won’t we?” he said, cooing to Charis. “Nice, big house. Just you and me, and Mama—and the Greve issue, who I am sure we can train around to our way of thinking. His father wasn’t a bad bloke, all considered. In fact, he had rather good taste and the ambition to go against everything and everyone to get what he wanted. Not so unlike us, is he?”

  A low growl escaped Ashra’s throat. He was impossible. He was fully utilizing her guilt and aspirations. Because what he was offering had at one point been all she had ever wanted from him. He just hadn’t offered it when she’d wanted it, and she was still punishing him for it.

  His eyes sought hers. He wanted her to acquiesce, and he wasn’t going to stop trying if she said no. She was what he wanted. This was what he wanted, and as far as she knew, he had never wavered on that. What reason had she to say no? That desire for him still sat cloying and heavy into her very bones. And although he was manipulating her with words and deeds, he hid nothing of what he wanted. But something in her fought against surrendering to it, even if she couldn’t understand why. Perhaps because she had always had to guard herself against him. Because she lost herself in him, in the desire between them. If she let him, he absorbed everything around him—the very light, the air, her every thought. What would she have left to resist him with if she gave in? It tore her to pieces and that was what made her so very wary.

  Chapter 35

  ROISEN WAS IN THE KITCHEN when she returned downstairs after settling Charis. He stood by the stove and waited for the kettle to boil, a task Ashra would have expected was well beyond him.

  Ashra stopped at the bottom of the stairs and watched him. She had no idea what to say to him.

  “Tea?” he asked.

  “Making yourself at home?”

  He turned to her. “One would think that you didn’t love me.”

  There he went again, trying to manipulate her, pushing her to the limit where she either had to be honest—against her will—or lie. “I would say my feelings are more disparate.”

  “Disparate is a big word. What exactly is your objection? Might as well spit it out.”

  “You manipulate me.”

  “I don’t manipulate; I am convincing,” he said with a smile and poured tea into two mugs through a strainer. Walking over he handed one of the mugs to her. It was warm in her hands. He didn’t move away.

  “Alright,” he said. “What else? Are you concerned about my tarnished reputation?”

  “No, of course not. What do you take me for? I am concerned that you ride roughshod over what I want.”

  “Since when?”

  “You kidnapped me.”

  “An
d as I recall, you didn’t mind one bit. I clearly made up for it, and I was trying to protect you. You have a habit of disregarding your personal security, which can be quite distressing for the man who is with you.”

  “You weren’t with me.”

  “Are you going to deny what we had?”

  Damn, he had caught her again. “That was something fleeting.”

  “Only because I did or said the wrong thing, and you were not very understanding.”

  This was on her now? “How am I not very understanding?”

  “Considering where I am coming from, how do you expect me to do everything perfectly? I'm not exactly experienced with this.”

  “With what?”

  “Love.”

  “Pfft,” Ashra said, feeling this all cut a little too close to the bone.

  “Yes love, and you denying it doesn’t make it go away.”

  Putting his mug down, he reached behind her neck and pulled her to him, into a kiss. She hadn’t expected it and couldn’t guard against it. His familiar taste suffused her, the feel of his lips to hers. It was much too comfortable and enticing. It felt too… right.

  Shifting closer, his body pressed to hers, except where she kept a hot mug between them. “There is always that bit of pain with you,” he said. “I’ve grown to accept that.”

  She shifted the mug, out of politeness if nothing else. Sadism wasn’t her thing. Obviously she had some tendencies toward masochism, considering that she seemed to end up letting this man close time and again.

  Mug gone, he took that as an invitation or opportunity to pull her fully to him, his lips seeking hers. The pleasure of it lulled every one of her thoughts and her senses took over. Desire pooled in her gut. Why did this have to be so lovely? He’d always had the ability to manipulate her with desire, and apparently, nothing had changed there.

  With heavy breaths, he released her lips, seeking that spot along her neck that made her weak. All this so she would let him stay. All he wanted was to stay. That wasn’t true. He wouldn’t be happy until he had all of her heart, but could she trust him with it?

  Firm, searching hands sought underneath her shirt, sought her skin and the softness of her breasts. She should be stopping this. She needed time to think this decision through in a logical and reasonable way, but the feel of him along her brought out other needs—compelling needs.

 

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