by Rebecca Rode
“Khral Jerald Rasmus the Third, monarch of the powerful brother nation of Messau.”
“And you, my lady?” the man asked, his fingers moving quickly.
Whispers peppered the crowd. They hadn’t missed the lack of title in my address. Aden’s mother had been demoted to lady. It wasn’t the queen bestowing power upon a foreign king—it was Rasmus giving her a title. What a revolting man.
I signed the name as Aden had taught me, remembering how it had felt with his hands guiding mine. It calmed my shaking fingers.
“Thank you. Now will the groom please take the bride’s hands?”
My hands.
Shock raced through my system. Even if my signing had fooled Rasmus, my hands never would. They were rough, dry, and calloused. Far from the queen’s dainty, tailored fingers.
Rasmus held out his hand. I pulled away and took a step back, shaking my head. Rasmus’s smile froze.
The room erupted in laughter. It seemed to remind Rasmus who was watching, because he let his shoulders fall and pasted on a fake smile. “I always did like the coy ones.”
The audience laughed again. The guards behind the khral grinned, their eyes fixed on the neckline of my dress.
“She will submit to my touch soon enough,” he told the officiator. “Continue.”
My cheeks warmed behind the veil as I flexed my fingers, wishing I had my axes. I would carve that smug smile right out of Rasmus’s face.
I kept my hands clasped behind me as the officiator continued, which seemed to amuse Rasmus and his guests. It was a simple ceremony, probably shortened, and I had to force myself not to stare at the pirates. If they were armed, their weapons were well hidden.
I forced my attention back to the officiator’s droning. He was saying something about tradition, honor, and love. His voice faltered at the word love, and his eyes fixed on me. Could he see through the veil over my face? Too many questions, too many unknowns.
When the time came for me to agree to the terms, I waited four heartbeats before unlocking my hands to sign Yes.
“The couple may now seal their matrimony with a kiss, upon which time they will be legally wed.” The officiator paused, looking pained. “Then we will proceed with the crowning ceremony for His Honorable Khral and King Jerald Rasmus the Third.”
The moment had arrived.
I sank to the floor as if overcome and felt around at my ankle. The queen’s knife was concealed in my boot, and I closed my fingers around the handle. It wasn’t the long, familiar handle of my axe, but it would do until Elyss brought my weapons from the servants’ quarters.
“May we have a long and happy life together, my sweet,” Rasmus called out, his fingers closing around my arm. He yanked me back onto my feet and pulled me close. There was brandy and rosewood on his breath. He obviously preferred strong liquor to light Hughen wine.
As he reached for my veil, I thrust the knife toward his throat.
He caught my arm just in time. The blade hovered there, an inch from his skin, and I grunted with the strain. His hand closed around my wrist. With a deep growl, he threw me backward. There was a collective gasp from the audience.
I stumbled on the gown and landed on the floor. Blasted skirts.
The khral looked down on me with his mouth twisted in disgust. “I intended to let you live, but if you refuse to cooperate…” Then he looked over his shoulder. “McCullough! Bring me my sword.”
The steward with graying hair who had escorted me here approached the khral with a sword resting on his palms.
If I had my axes, I wouldn’t have missed. I rose to my feet and faced the audience. Aden and his family needed more time. If I meant to humiliate the Messaun khral, it would have to be now.
I yanked off my veil.
The crowd went absolutely still. Then the whispers began again. Advisor Varnen leaned forward in his chair, squinting at me. Rasmus stood rooted at my side, his mouth agape in horror.
“I’m sorry for the disappointment,” I called out, “but this man is not king of Hughen. He just married a common sailor. We thank you for attending our wedding anyway.” I gave a low bow.
The audience responded slowly. A few hid smiles behind their hands, and a young woman finally giggled. The sound yanked the crowd from their stupor. The laughter began in earnest.
Rasmus went purple. He wrenched his sword from the guard and lifted it to strike.
I was ready. I dodged a guard’s hands and hiked the dress above my ankles before turning to run. Soldiers had begun to fill the aisle, cutting off my exit, but the main doors weren’t my goal. I sprinted toward a side door. Elyss waited there, a nervous stiffness in her stance. My axes were barely visible behind her back. With axes in hand, I would publicly challenge Rasmus and cover her escape.
I stumbled on my skirts once again. Just a few more feet.
Captain Belza stepped in front of me, forcing me to pull to an abrupt halt or barrel right into him. His blond braid trailed down one shoulder. He studied me with a frown, massive cutlass in hand. How he’d managed to smuggle that past the guards was a mystery. Or perhaps the guards hadn’t dared stop him. His men hurried to his side, blocking my path completely.
“Pirates!” someone shouted.
The entire room erupted in commotion. Men and women stood and drew shield wards across their chests, stumbling over one another in their haste to reach the door. A few Hughens took up a shout and pulled out knives they’d hidden from the guards. Someone screamed.
Belza simply looked at me with a dark expression. “The sailor from the Majesty, with the axes.”
“She’s the one who freed the prince, Captain,” one of the pirates said. It was the man we’d knocked unconscious during Aden’s rescue. A sleeve covered his ruined hand.
I muttered a curse, reaching for my knife before remembering Rasmus had knocked it away. I couldn’t get to my axes surrounded like this. A dozen swords slid from their hidden scabbards and lowered toward me. If I so much as breathed too deeply, I’d feel the tip of a blade.
Rasmus pulled up beside me. He eyed Belza’s cutlass with a dark look. Had he truly thought he could ban the pirates from their weapons? “Secure the girl if you’ve got any use at all. Pirate fools.”
The men stood in silence, obviously waiting for Belza to confirm the order. They wore various expressions of disgust and loathing as they watched the khral. The pirate captain just stared Rasmus down. Lands. His eyes were so clear that I could almost see through them. He looked ready to strike the ruler, crown or not. Whatever agreement they had was a tentative one.
Rasmus didn’t cringe under the pirate’s vicious gaze. “Admiral Belza, have your men secure the girl or step aside so my men can.”
“I will question her first,” Belza said, then nodded to his men. They lowered their blades and wrenched my arms behind my back. I heard a rip from the fabric at my shoulder. This dress was the least practical form of clothing ever.
Rasmus’s mouth snapped shut, his face reddening. “To what purpose? She’s obviously a maid. I’ve already sent men to find the real queen.”
“I’m a sailor,” I snapped. “I told you that already. You wouldn’t have these issues with women if you’d just listen.”
Rasmus growled again and whipped out his sword, but Belza blocked it with his own. The clang of metal was a strange one—a long, thick cutlass against a thin dueling blade. Several guards trotted up behind Rasmus, their weapons half-raised at the sight of their surrounded khral. It seemed nobody knew whose side the pirates were on.
I knew. I’d heard it from the pirate’s own mouth. Rasmus ruled a nation, maybe two. But Belza wanted to rule the sea. If he succeeded, he’d hold more power than all the countries put together. We relied too heavily on trade. No country had an economy strong enough to produce what they needed alone. Belza would isolate us all before uniting us under his own rule.
He wouldn’t serve Rasmus. He intended for the man to kneel at his own feet.
The pir
ate captain glowered at the khral until he withdrew his weapon and took a step backward. I could feel a tenseness in the air, their stances, their words. Elyss’s frightened eyes locked on me from the door. She hadn’t run at the pirates’ approach. So close.
Finally, Belza turned back to me and narrowed his eyes. “Tell me how you came to be here.”
I had no axes, but sometimes words made the strongest weapons, and I had plenty of those. “You’ve failed, Captain Belza. You failed to sell Prince Cedrick to King LeZar. You failed to deliver him to Rasmus because he escaped. You even failed in your oath to extinguish Captain Garrow’s crew, because I survived. Now you want to steal Elena’s legacy and rule land and sea.” I smiled. “I’m here to make sure you fail there too.”
The pirate captain stiffened. For the first time, his eyes wore a glint of uncertainty. Whatever he’d expected me to say, it wasn’t that. He looked past me at Rasmus’s guards, who stood with weapons raised.
Khral Rasmus stared at me, then at Captain Belza and back again. “You told me Prince Cedrick was dead.”
“The girl lies. She’ll say anything to save her miserable life.” Belza glared at his men. “Bring her to me.”
They shoved me forward, their hold on my arms threatening to separate my shoulders from their sockets. I gritted my teeth against the pain and scrambled for my next accusation. “He even promised King LeZar power over you if he joined him.”
Rasmus stalked over to us, pushing pirates aside to reach me. To my surprise, he shoved me aside as well, forcing my captors to loosen their holds. Then he was face-to-face with the pirate captain. “You lying piece of horseflesh. I will not be betrayed, and certainly not by bloody filth such as you.”
My right arm was loose. I took a tiny step backward to put distance between me and Rasmus, who seemed to have forgotten me entirely. I glanced toward the doorway. Elyss was nowhere to be seen.
Rasmus’s voice rose higher in pitch. “I freed you from prison. These men who serve you—I chose them myself. It’s my signature on that commission writ. I made you what you are!”
“And I handed you a kingdom. Look how you’ve fouled it up. I should have taken it myself.”
The khral sank backward into dueling stance. “Try it, and I’ll take your head like my father should have done. Guards!”
His men came running. The pirates straightened, raising their weapons again to meet them. The two sides were equal in number and skill, but the pirates were considerably nastier looking. They smiled while examining their opponents, their yellow teeth bared. Rasmus’s guards looked unsettled as they gripped their weapons.
That had gone even more perfectly than planned. Now I just had to keep them focused on one another instead of Aden’s family. I had just opened my mouth to make another accusation when a guard ran in.
“Your Majesty!” he shrieked. “The queen is gone. We’ve searched everywhere.”
A thrill shot through me. They’d made it.
Rasmus shook with anger now. “Men, watch this filthy pirate. Make sure he doesn’t leave.” Then he turned to me. “The boy and his mother must be together. Tell me where they are.”
I lifted my chin. “I wouldn’t know.”
The blow came, snapping my head sideways. Lights danced in front of my eyes as he got right in my face. “Tell me now.”
“I will not.”
“Tell me now and I’ll spare your life.”
“Liar.”
He growled. The strike was harder this time, nearly throwing me off my feet. Hands clasped my shoulders from behind. They smelled of tar and mint. Belza just stood by, thick fingers drumming on his weapon. Waiting.
Rasmus plunged into the crowd of pirates behind me. He emerged a moment later, yanking a girl by the hair. He threw her to the floor at my feet. My insides lurched. Elyss.
“A new deal, then,” he spat. He placed his sword to Elyss’s throat. “Tell me where the boy is, and I’ll spare her life.”
I hesitated. Her eyes were wide in terror, and her shoulders shook as her body was racked with silent tears. There was pleading in her gaze.
She wasn’t holding my axes. She’d left them by the doors. I couldn’t even break free to help her escape.
It was a monumental effort to swallow. “I—”
His blade swept across her neck in one swift movement.
Elyss dropped to the floor, convulsing, blood pooling beneath her throat. It filled the dress’s ornate bust with sickly red. I shoved forward, but the guards yanked me backward and held my head in place, forcing me to watch.
One last shudder. Then she sank into the floor and went still.
It took all my strength to hold back the sob that followed. Elyss, I’m so sorry.
“There are plenty of Hughens,” Rasmus said, bursting through the haze of my thoughts. “I’ll kill them one by one, each more brutally than the last. And when they’re dead, I’ll start on the children. Now, we’ll try this again.” He backhanded me across the face once more, snapping my head to the side. “Where.” Slap. “Is.” Slap. “The boy?” He lifted his hand.
“Right here,” a voice rang out from the main doors.
Rasmus’s head snapped to the side. His guards turned to look. Belza went rigid, and those in the audience who’d stayed to watch began their whispering all over again.
The true king had returned.
Aden stood in the doorway, sword raised to the sky. The hallway behind him was filled with townspeople clutching shovels and makeshift weapons, even a Gallen whip. Several were women.
I stared at Aden. He had gotten his mother to safety. Then he had come back.
“There’s only one person standing between you and that crown, Rasmus,” Aden shouted. “Me, the rightful king of Hughen.”
My emotions ranged from delight and relief to anger. I’d made this sacrifice so he could escape. This was the absolute worst place for him to be right now. My mind cried out at the absurdity of it. But I couldn’t hold back the stupid grin crossing my face. Aden had come back. He’d probably planned to all along.
The wedding guests pressed themselves against the wall as Aden and the group strode in. He scanned the crowd and spotted me. The relief on his face was unmistakable.
Rasmus pursed his lips. “Dispose of the commoners and bring me the boy.”
With a yell, the guards rushed at the townspeople, who met their attackers with a swell of sound. It was too familiar—shouting, metal on metal, shots being fired. The guests screamed and sprinted for the side door where Elyss had stood. Elyss. Her body still lay where it had fallen.
Aden strode past all of it to the enraged khral. “Jerald Rasmus, I challenge you.”
The khral snorted. “I’ve already taken your kingdom, boy. The wedding was a formality.”
“You’ve yet to secure the palace, let alone the kingdom. But kill me in front of these witnesses, and it’s yours. You’ll rule both nations.”
Rasmus looked around. Nearly all his guards were engaged in the battle. Aden’s small army fought bravely, though there were already several commoner bodies on the ground. They had answered Aden’s call, feeling the same pull to him that I had. They also sensed that aura of royalty. Except royalty wasn’t the right word. Majesty.
“Do you accept my challenge, sir?” Aden pointed his blade to the ground. Duel protocol. Aden was royal to the last. It was adorable and frustrating at the same time.
Rasmus glowered at him. “I’ll just order my guards to run you through.”
“Your reputation demands a greater show than that, does it not? Messaun monarchs don’t defeat their enemies by proxy. Free the girl and face me like a king.”
Rasmus’s expression closed, but I detected a hint of a smile. “Belza, you may do with the girl as you wish.” Then he lowered his sword and assumed dueling stance.
Aden’s eyes flicked to me. I just nodded. Win this. I can handle myself.
“Hold the girl,” Belza said, watching the two with a dark expression. Th
at glint in his eyes was too familiar. Both Aden and Rasmus had underestimated the pirate. He would kill whoever won that duel and take the crown for himself. That meant I had to kill Captain Belza before Aden’s duel ended. I eased my shoulder away from the pirate on my right, but he held even tighter. His breath smelled of rotting meat.
Aden and Rasmus stood still for a moment, swords pointed downward, sizing each other up. The Messaun was a good six inches taller and far more muscular than Aden. He also moved with a grace that said he’d spent a lifetime practicing swordplay. But I’d seen Aden beat a larger man with the wrong hand on a bucking merchant ship. The match wasn’t as uneven as the khral assumed.
Rasmus was the first to strike. Aden knocked it away easily. Rasmus redirected for a quick side blow, which Aden blocked. Then the fight truly began.
The swords clashed, again and again, so quickly I could barely see the blades. Aden was light on his feet. He seemed to anticipate each strike before the blade reached him, his brows lowered in concentration. It was a dance of royals, a performance of perfect skill. Awe surged through me. Aden was incredible. The Right of Steel duel had truly been nothing to him.
Rasmus’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile as he parried, thrust, and thrust again. The whipping blades were a blur of motion. Rasmus’s face grew more intense, his smile tighter, and Aden’s face broke out in a sheen of sweat. Rasmus had a slight edge now. Aden reacted somewhat slower than he had before, and the khral was pushing him backward toward the windows and their impossibly long curtains.
The hand on my right shoulder had gone slack again. I slipped my foot slowly behind the pirate’s. The man felt my shift and gripped more tightly, but I was positioned now. I threw my elbow backward as my foot swept forward, sending him stumbling to keep his footing. A quick kick to the other pirate in his manly parts and my shoulders were free. I bolted for the side door.
“Bring her back alive, you idiots,” Belza snapped at his men.
I swallowed at the memory of Elyss waiting in the doorway just a few minutes before, then skimmed the ground for any sign of my weapons. The axes were tucked in a pile behind the open door, hidden from sight. Blessed girl. I grabbed them just as four pirates barreled down on me.
