Storm Princess 3: The Princess Must Reign

by Jaymin Eve

  He replies, “The gargoyles have something we need.”

  “What is that?”

  His only response is a quick shake of his head. He isn’t going to tell me.

  My accusation is bitter. “So you’re going to attack the gargoyles even though you already have me.”

  “I told you to prepare for war.”

  I gasp, growl, and laugh all at the same time. “You think it will be easy to conquer them. You have no idea what they are capable of.”

  He tilts his head with a curious frown, the first movement he’s made. “I did not find the gargoyles on the cliff so hard to subdue.”

  I’m not ready to stand yet, but I will be soon. “Yes, but that was because of all your natural sorcery. You won’t be there for this fight.”

  A frown descends over his perfect forehead. “What are you talking about? Of course I’ll be there. I’m leading the battle.”

  I can finally stand, lifting myself up off the chair with all the poise I can manage, desperately trying to ignore my despair. Even Cassian was respectful of my body. He never tried to kiss me. But Marbella, I tell myself, that was because he loved you. Tears burn behind my eyes again. “You won’t be there, Grayson, because you’ll be here, keeping me under control.” I turn to the doorway. Point at it. “Without you, I’ll simply walk out that door. There is no other elf powerful enough to stop me.”

  His eyebrows have risen. “I will place you in a containment sphere.”

  “Try it,” I dare him. “Try it right now. Watch me destroy it.”

  With barely a gesture on his part, my feet lift off the ground and a transparent shield forms around me, dragging me upward. I press my hands against the front of it, demanding his attention. A blast of Incorruptible light shatters the globe around me in the next moment.

  I drop gracefully to my feet and stride toward him, well and truly in control of my legs now. Diamond light shines around me as my Incorruptible power continues to respond to my anger. “Put me behind bars, inside a spelled prison, and wrap it up with as much magic as you can. It won’t matter. I’ll get out.”

  I’m close enough to jab his chest, the same chest I pressed up against moments before. “The only thing keeping me here is you. Your body. Once you’re gone, I’m gone. Good luck to the elves fighting a battle against the gargoyles without you.”

  He contemplates me with the first sign of real emotion. It’s odd to see him fixate on the finger I jabbed him with. I see again the moment of emotion he couldn’t hide when I first opened my eyes after he held me just now. I remember the sensory overload I felt when I discovered I was able to touch people after seven years of keeping my distance. I jab his chest again and press my finger there. It’s a stupid move but if he’s going to control me, I’ll fight back with everything I can, including the knowledge that touch isn’t something he’s used to.

  I say, “I’m tired and hungry and I’m assuming you don’t want me to starve. So where is the food?” What I want more than anything is to see what’s outside this room—to get a feel for the layout of the house and where the prison might be.

  He snatches a glance at my finger. Then, without warning, he sweeps it up to his mouth and catches the end of it between his teeth, closing his lips around it. The air glows crimson again and delicious warmth shoots through me as he kisses my skin. Baelen’s kisses. “I’m hungry too,” he murmurs.

  I drag my finger free with all my might, my heart sinking at just how badly that went.

  He lets me go with a laugh that sounds oddly genuine. “If you’re going to play that game, be prepared to lose.”

  “Got it.” I clear my throat, burying my finger inside my curled-up fist. I step away from him, knowing that from now on, I need to keep as much distance between us as I can. I wasn’t lying though. I’m hungry and tired. I was on my way to dinner right before Grayson snatched me from outside the Royal Residence. It was right after I buried Cassian. Right after Indira admitted to me how much she wanted to stay in her beautiful valley with Erit and never face what was coming. Right after Baelen lost it when he saw me covered in blood.

  My shoulders slump. Too much happened today. Time is my enemy. The elven army is about to attack the gargoyles for reasons that Grayson won’t tell me about. It can’t be as simple as revenge or he would have said so. But the gargoyles aren’t ready. Half the army was killed in the battle with the miners and most of the strongest males who were thrown into the mines are still recovering from imprisonment. They aren’t prepared for an attack and that’s on me. I chose not to warn them. It’s my fault and now I have to make it right. I need to buy time.

  I turn back to Grayson. “If I promise to stay here while you go to battle, will you wait the month you promised?”

  He is surprised. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because that way the gargoyles have time to evacuate their children from the battle zone.” I glare at him. “There are villages close to the border, Grayson. Peaceful villages with families and little children. Families who have only just found each other after years of…” I curl my hands into fists, swallowing hard against the emotions rising inside of me. They are families I have just reunited. I won’t let them be torn apart again.

  I say, “I will not allow children to die. If you want a battle, then let it be a fair fight between armies. Not a slaughter of peaceful villagers.”

  His frown deepens. Emotions flicker across his face: surprise, distrust, deep thought. “It will be a slaughter if I’m there, Marbella, and that’s what you’re guaranteeing.”

  “You’re forgetting Baelen.”

  “Ah.” He grants me an acknowledging nod. It looks like he’s going to take me at my word that I’ll stay put, because he says, “Then a battle between armies it is. I will give your gargoyles a month. By now they will know about your disappearance, so I will send a messenger to the border stating our terms.”

  “Thank you.” It’s a small victory but it gives me what I need: time. Time to locate Elise, Reisha, and my Storm Command. Time for the gargoyles to prepare.

  Grayson strides to the door located on the opposite wall. Opening it, he gestures me inside. It’s a bedroom, equally opulent with a large four-poster bed draped in golden pillows and covered in a silken bed cover. Of course, there’s only one bed.

  He points to a door at the side and then to various spots within the room. “Bathroom. Bed. Obviously I can’t sleep in it so you have nothing to worry about. Also, the bathroom has no openings to the outside so I have no concerns about leaving you alone in there.”

  I ask, “What’s to say I won’t blast a hole in the side and walk out?”

  “You could. But then our deal would be off. Our army is ready to attack whenever we give the word. I don’t think you want that to happen.”

  I make a straight line for the bathroom, craving space.

  “Stop.”

  I freeze.

  He strides to the closet and pulls out a towel and a dressing gown. “You can sleep in this tonight. Tomorrow I will arrange clothing for you.”

  I gather the items into my arms. I’ve been sleeping in unfamiliar clothing for a long time now. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have my own clothes. This is my new normal.

  Once inside the bathroom, I close the door behind me, listening as Grayson’s footsteps recede on the marbled floor. I’m halfway through showering before everything that happened today hits me. Then I curl down into a ball, letting the water beat down on me.

  Baelen.

  I want to scream his name. I want to blast this entire building into shreds. But I can’t beat Grayson. I have to play within his rules. I thump my fist against the bathroom tiles. All of my heartstones glow at once. They are trying to help me—to give me strength and heart, to help me think and help me heal—but it’s all too much. I crawl out of the shower and drag a towel around myself, drying my body before pulling on the dressing gown. I release my hair from its braid, letting it fall to my waist. Then I stagger to
my feet, preparing myself to find Grayson waiting for me outside. The lamps have been dimmed but he’s nowhere to be seen. Filled with relief, I slip into the bed and pull the covers up to my neck. I ignore my empty stomach—I’ve gone longer without food before.

  Somehow I manage to fall asleep.

  I awake to loud voices outside the bedroom. The door is open and it’s easy to see through to the living area where two males argue. I stay where I am, feigning sleep.

  The newcomer is Elwyn Elder. He appears more hunched than the last time I saw him at Howl’s banquet. His face is red with anger. “Where is she?”

  Grayson steps between Elwyn and the bedroom door, fists clenched. “She’s inside.”

  Elwyn blusters. “You were supposed to take her to the prison!”

  “Do not question me!” Grayson’s arm shoots out at Elwyn. Suddenly Elwyn is propelled backward, his robes flapping around him as he flies through the air. He thuds up against the opposite wall, pinned there, wincing.

  Grayson advances on him, threat hanging between them. If Grayson is the second natural-born sorcerer in our history, then I don’t think Elwyn Elder is the first. Elwyn has nothing to kill to fight back against Grayson, but he must have some residual power because he manages to slide to the ground and take a step, pushing into the force around him.

  Elwyn snarls, “You let her touch you, didn’t you?”

  Grayson growls and pushes harder.

  Elwyn shakes his head in disapproval, a slow movement against the force of Grayson’s power. “I warned you not to let her touch you.”

  “You told me nobody could. You told me that even the most powerful gargoyle Queen this world has ever known couldn’t touch me and remain alive. Well, she can!” His voice lowers. “What other lies have you told me?”

  “Noth-nothing,” Elwyn stammers, shaken for the first time. He raises a placating hand, pushing through what must be a suffocating force. “Grayson, don’t lose sight of what we want. What we all want. She is a distraction you don’t need.”

  Grayson releases Elwyn and the older elf coughs and hunches, shaking out his shoulders and rubbing his neck.

  Grayson says, “She’s more than that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Grayson grinds his teeth. “She’s the only female I can ever…”

  Elwyn’s eyes shoot so wide it looks like they’re going to pop out of his head. “Wake up to yourself. She belongs to Baelen Rath. If you want a female then cloak yourself and go get one. Get three for all I care. That female in there…” He points his bony finger in an accusation. “She will never bed you willingly.”

  Grayson folds his arms across his chest. The golden runes that decorate his muscles gleam in the dim light. He doesn’t respond to Elwyn’s assertion, changing the subject instead. He’s good at doing that when he doesn’t like where the conversation is going. “I’ve sent a messenger to the border to tell the gargoyles they have a month to surrender or we go to war. I’ve told them that we have their Queen and we aren’t giving her back.” He takes a step toward Elwyn who maintains a healthy distance between them. “Now get out.”

  Elwyn shakes his fist at Grayson before whirling to the door. “You’d better know what you’re doing, Grayson. We need access to the deep springs and we need it soon. Erador must fall within a month.”

  “It will. Don’t worry.”

  As soon as Elwyn leaves, Grayson spins on his heel and strides toward the bedroom, heading straight for me. “Don’t pretend to be asleep. Nobody could sleep through that.” I can’t see his expression very well in the dark, but his voice softens. “No matter how tired they are.”

  I make sure the dressing gown is closed before I sit up. “If you need access to the deep springs, then why don’t you ask permission to use it? If somebody’s sick—”

  He laughs. “We don’t want to use it, Marbella. We want to destroy it.”

  I scoot away from him. “What? Why?”

  He doesn’t respond. He’s a master at not responding. Instead he leans across me, forcing me to press myself flat against the wall to avoid his chest brushing up against mine. He takes the pillow from the other side of the bed along with the spare blanket, pausing to drop a kiss on my cheek, far too close to the corner of my mouth, before he straightens.

  I jerk backward but he has already relocated himself across the floor, choosing a spot between the bed and the bathroom to lay down on his blanket. That way I’ll have to step over him in the morning if I want to use the facilities. He’ll know if I wake up before him. Every move he makes is calculated. So is the seemingly random kiss on my cheek—a brand of ownership. He pummels his pillow and lies facing me, closing his eyes.

  I squeeze my hands into fists. “I need you to stop taking liberties.”

  His eyes remain closed. “Why?”

  “Because my heart is not yours.”

  A chill enters the room. “I’m well aware of that.”

  He says nothing more and I skate back under the covers. Just as I’m about to drop back to sleep, his whisper reaches me. “Be warned, Marbella. I’m determined to get what I want.”

  17

  For the next three days, Grayson is true to his word: I stay in the room with him. He doesn’t leave me alone except when I go to the bathroom. Instead, others come to us. Elves in the minor House of Verity serve the House of Glory and bring us food five times each day. Seamstresses arrive on the first morning to take my measurements. The furthest Grayson moves away is to stand in the doorway, which isn’t far enough for me to see what’s outside this room. When I push back the curtains at one point, I discover that they’re false: there is nothing but a solid wall behind them.

  Over the course of the three days, each member of the Elven Command comes to see Grayson. Pedr Bounty and Osian Valor are as frosty toward me as they always were. But the new Commander from the House of Splendor—the one who replaced Teilo—is a surprise.

  The servant at the door announces, “Lord Grayson, Elven Commander Priscilla Splendor is here to see you.”

  There’s never been a female in the Elven Command before. Let alone one as young as me. She glides into the room, tall and lithe, her neck like a swan’s and long legs to match Elyria’s. She takes one look at me and plots a path straight for Grayson, asking him outright, “Are you cloaked?”

  He puts away the map he was studying and rises from his seat. “For you, always.”

  She plants both hands possessively on his chest, lifts up on her toes, and kisses him in a way that makes her message very clear: he belongs to her.

  I smother a sigh. Does she really think it will bother me?

  Still… it’s a pity her eyes are closed and she doesn’t see his face. For him, kissing while cloaked would be like kissing a plank of timber. He wouldn’t have known any difference before, but unfortunately for me, now he knows what connecting with someone’s skin really feels like. She definitely tries her best though and after a beat where he glances across the room at me, he commits to her gesture, kissing her back.

  I rise from my chair and head for the bedroom to give them space. Then I wonder if that’s a bad idea because they could be headed there themselves. Then I second-guess myself because Grayson doesn’t go near the bed so maybe it’s the best escape after all. I stop and start again, but I don’t make it two steps before his power tugs me to a halt.

  “Stay where you are, Marbella.”

  I remain facing away from him. If he’s broken their kiss to deal with me then Priscilla will be fuming right about now. “Thank you, but no,” I say without turning back. “I’d rather leave you to your business.”

  My Prime power flares, allowing me to take another two steps before his presence behind me is like a burning wall of flame. I sense him close the gap between us, and then he grabs my arm and spins me around. “You will stay where I can see you.”

  I whisper in response, “You can’t see much with your eyes closed, Grayson.”

  His glare wou
ld make anyone cower, but I really don’t need to watch his girlfriend play tongues with him. So I stand my ground. His fiery scowl suddenly breaks. He actually laughs.

  I suddenly realize that despite all the emotions he fakes or masks, his laughter is always real.

  “You’re right,” he says, grinning at me. “I guess I’d better start kissing with my eyes open.”

  Ugh. Not the outcome I wanted. And definitely not what she wants either. She’s murdering me with a glare right now. She adjusts her body language before he turns back to her, giving him a sickly sweet smile as if anything he wants is fine with her.

  Before she can speak, a loud knock sounds at the door and a voice calls. “A message from the gargoyles, Lord Grayson.”

  My skin is suddenly cold. I have no idea how my people will respond to Grayson’s threats.

  Grayson stalks to the door and takes the scroll while the messenger bows and waits for his response. Grayson frowns as he reads. He brings the message to me. “It seems you were right about your people’s courage. They’ve responded with a counteroffer. They will meet the elven army in battle in a month’s time, but they won’t promise not to attack sooner… unless Baelen Rath is allowed to speak with you within the next week.”

  My heart leaps. The thought of seeing Baelen gives me hope.

  Grayson paces the floor, the scroll held loosely in his fist as he considers his decision. Priscilla reaches for the parchment and he hands it over.

  “Let him see her,” she says, placing the message firmly on the table. She presses up against him, rubbing his arms in a soothing gesture. “You need to know how to break Baelen Rath in battle but you won’t figure it out unless you meet him and test him.” She looks pointedly at me. It’s clear they both believe that I will be Baelen’s tipping point.

  “All right. We will allow Baelen Rath to see Marbella.” His lips curve into a slow smile. “But not alone. We will host a celebration in the arena in the heart of Erawind in five days. Marbella will be there. He may bring one gargoyle with him. If he wants to see her, those are the terms.”