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“I thought you’d met the duchess,” Asmo says, twisting in his chair, brows furrowed. “Didn’t you accompany her when the two of you visited Vanderlyth? As long as her face hasn’t changed much, the summoning should still work.”
That was when the king came to Vanderlyth. Alice had demanded to meet me, and I could hear her yelling at my father,saying a lady shouldn’t be imprisoned in her own home. That it was an honor to have dinner with the king and queen and that I should be present for such. Her efforts hadn’t changed anything. I wasn’t invited to have dinner with them, but she’d managed to come upstairs and bring dinner to me. She’d met me in my room. I’d never been more nervous in my life than I had been in that moment. So much that, my hands trembled and I nearly spilt my tea.
“Are we certain she’s being held captive?” I ask, clearing my throat, urging my spine to stay strong, despite my incessant urge to cower when all eyes turn to me.
“No,” the queen says, a grin spreading wide. “I don’t believe she is. When I met her years ago, she looked miserable. And seeing as she was coming here to have her marriage blessed, I wouldn’t be surprised if she took the chance to run.”
“So, we’re harboring an elvish fugitive now?” The orc steps closer, his green skin paling in the light. “Being it’s worth war to save a girl from what? A marriage? That’s their custom.”
“Nothing is worth war, I assure you. However, if the duchess is here because she doesn’t want to be found, then I have no intentions of going out of my way to find her. I sure as hell don’t intend to put myself through the pain of having my husband or the prince scouring my memories to find a face that has likely changed too much to summon,” she snaps, and the orc backs up, turning to where he’s been leaning against the wall. Alice lets out a deep, steadying exhale and smoke coils from her nose, like it would a dragon. “Take the day to mull over our position. We’ll convene again before dinner.”
Chairs scrap the floor as the lords and ladies clear out, but Asmo makes no effort to stand, and therefore, neither do I.
When the room is empty, the king lifts his head, a clever smirk on his lips. “Well, not how I wished to meet the new Lady of Grim’s Keep, but it’s lovely to put a face to the name.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I bow my head, pursing my lips.
“Kai. Family calls me by my real name.” He stands from his seat, moving toward Alice to gather her hair at the nap of her neck, forcing her head up so she has to look at him. “You did lovely. Regardless of what the lords and ladies support, we’ll figure it out.”
“I hope you’re right,” she whispers, casting me a side glance, before leaning into the king, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “I will not force that girl to go back there. You know as well as I do that it took everything in my power to leave her in Vanderlyth that day. Elcrys is a bastard. A woman-hating asshat who gave me hell for years. I’m glad he’s not at this table any more. So help him, if I get the chance to run my sword through the man…”
The king smiles, chuckling slightly as he hugs her to him. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your colorful language.”
27
Valeria
Alice's lips curve intoa warm smile and her blue eyes seem to twinkle, reflecting the glow of the mage lights. She bends down, planting a soft kiss on top of Asmo's head. The king simply squeezes his shoulder before tugging his wife toward the door. “Don't stay too long. I'm pretty sure the staff is putting out food already. The two of you should join us. Finn and Eva are.”
Asmo doesn't flinch, his vacant stare glued to the wooden table. When it's clear he doesn't intend to answer, I tell them we will right before the door snicks shut. Tapping Asmo's arm with the back of my hand, he jerks his attention to me, like I've pulled him from a dream. “Are you okay? You’ve barely said a word.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Withdrawing a ring from his finger, he uses its smooth surface to trace eclipsed circles on the table.
“I hadn’t realized the elves had ransacked Ogre’s Landing,” I say, hoping to break the silence that's fallen between us. I can only hope it's the weight of the upcoming war weighing down on him and not that he's figured out that I'm the one the elf lord seeks.
When he doesn't answer, the quiet becomes deafening. I muster up courage and try again. “It sounds awful. It makes my heart ache for people I didn’t even know.” Propping my head up with my hand, elbow on the table, I watch him blink, as if I've said nothing at all. My gut sinks lower, the vicious nerves clawing up my throat. “What do you think about the offer the elf lord made? Would the king really let him succeed if the duchess comes forward?”
He merely tips his head, studying the ring harder. “My brother is a man of his word. If he promised that for treaty terms, he’ll honor it.”
“What do you think he should do?” A part of me doesn’t want to know his answer. The other half of me hopes his ruthless alter ego, the one I’d met in the keep that day, demanding to know who and what I was, will take precedence. That he’ll crave revenge the same way I crave him.
Of course, the logical thing to do is like the king suggested, to find an agreement that doesn’t result in innocent lives dying on a battlefield.
Asmo spins his copper ring like a top. “If it were up to me, I’d likely kill the elf lord. I'd take my time too. Except, it’s not up to me, and that’s not the moral choice.” He bounces his eyebrows as if that morality is an inconvenience.
“And the king?” My stomach churns, making tendrils of anxiety wrap around me like a vise.
“My brother will want to find the girl, and Alice will do what she always does, stand up for those who can’t help themselves. She’ll happily go to war to keep one woman from leading a terrible life, just as she’d slaughter a battlefield on her own if it meant saving someone she loved. It’s who she is.” The ring clings against the wood, wobbling as it succumbs to gravity.
“Do you think the king will take the queen's position into account?” A lump forms in my throat at the idea of goingback to Vanderlyth, swelling even more when I think of the consequences of me staying here.
There’s no good option. One ends with me being with Asmo and Griffin at Grim’s Keep but requires the sacrifice of hundreds of lives. The other involves far less bloodshed, but leaves me unhappy and miserable. The decision should be easy. One person's misfortune to spare the kingdom, but I'm finding it harder to make than I anticipated.
“A good king will always consider his queen’s perspective,” Asmo says, spinning the ring again. He hasn’t once looked up from the table since he removed it from his finger. There’s no one else in the room, yet his icy, vacant, hollow eyes are still hidden behind his impartial mask.
“What are you thinking about?” I gently place my hand on his arm, a wave of disappointment washing over me when he doesn’t look my way or smirk.
Does he know?
