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“Princess El Shyokara,” Gidon greeted her with a slight bow. “I present Lachlan Al Bien, my east quadrant enforcer and the emissary I have chosen to travel with you to Boreas.”
Saieke curtsied, meeting the tawny eyes of Lachlan. She was beginning to realize all Darkans were dangerously beautiful.
“Princess,” Lachlan murmured on a bow, assessing her as he escorted to the chaise by the windows.
Five other Darkans were positioned motionless at the door. The king sat opposite her, and Saieke ignored Lachlan as he sauntered gracefully to the fireplace. She held her back rigid, refusing to relax in the plush seat and studied the king.
“I offer you our deepest apologies that you were attacked by citizens of the Darkage. They will be put to death for their actions against you and the Kingdom of Boreas,” Gidon said with calm authority.
Saieke flinched. She had tried not to dwell on the attack, and she hated to remember the fear that had gripped her in those moments. It had been unbearable. She inclined her head in acknowledgement of his apology.
She smiled at the servant who appeared with goblets of fruited wine. She sipped tentatively and her lips tingled at the zesty taste of the drink. “Why was I attacked?”
Gidon’s face became inscrutable. “Boreas is despised by many. You are your kingdom.”
“Why are we hated?” Saieke clasped the goblet with her both hands to keep them from shaking. The memory of his beast kept flitting across her mind.
“Our queen, my mother, was severely ill and our healers could do nothing. We petitioned your kingdom for aid which was denied twice.”
She stiffened. “That is not possible. My Ricarkri would not deny another kingdom of Amagarie our waters when it could save the life of a ruler.”
A sardonic smile twisted the king’s his lips as he leaned forward, resting his muscular forearms on his thighs. “I am sure you are aware of our reputation, Princess. We are reviled and Boreas treated us with contempt. At the death of our queen, many wanted vengeance on your kingdom. You being in the Darkage and of the house that denied our queen the possibility of life motivated some to seek vengeance. It will not happen again.”
Saieke’s heart thudded. It was possible her father denied them. Yet it would have been cruel for her king to deny a petition when the elixir they had was so bountiful.
“I know that attack on you only confirms our reputation. I invite you to spend a few days in the Darkage to learn about us so we can foster trade and diplomacy between our nations and show you that we are more than our rumors.”
Saieke frowned at the unexpected invitation. She had assumed that Gidon would desire her immediate departure to honor their bargain.
Open talk of trade with the Darkage?
The very idea was daunting. She could present all she would learn to the Princes’ Council, who would then take it to the Ricarkri. The fact they had saved her from Mevia was in their favor, and this was an opportunity for her to extend her stay and rid herself of the barrier that could save her people.
A deep part of her wanted to leave and return to the comfort of her realm. Even if that comfort would be short lived. But how could she agree to stay? How could she remain in a kingdom where many wanted her demise because of the perceived infraction of her kingdom against their queen? It was unfair, but Saieke knew there was a possibility that all the kingdoms would have denied their petition.
She had let down her guard, trusted them, and she almost died. If not for the arrival of Drac, her kingdom would now be in mourning and embroiled in war. “I would like a few moments to think,” she said as uncertainty pelted inside her.
Gidon inclined his head and strode to the wide stained window overlooking his domain. He stood proud, with his hands clasped behind his back, garbed in a black tunic with only a deep grey undershirt to match the wintry grey of his eyes, midnight hair held back with a tong flowed to his back, and his frame was muscular and powerful. Something about the way he stood made her wary, yet her heart strings tugged.
She believed he braced himself for her refusal. Would he try to use fear if she demanded to leave? For some unfathomable reason, Saieke did not think so. If she wanted to be free of her kingdom’s pledge to Nuria she had to take a lover. And Drac had shown he desired her. To travel home would deny her the opportunity to seduce him, yet to remain in the Darkage she courted death. Her choice was simple. To prevent the death of her kingdom, the loss of their traditions, their legacies and culture, and everything that made Boreas unique, she would return an impure and imperfect bride, even if it meant skating close to the edge of death.
She was fascinated by Drac, yet frightened on a deep level by the heartlessness he was capable of. She would not survive if he were to turn on her. Yet, he’d saved her, protected her against his own people, and conversed with her to remove her fear. A fear that he said was repulsive to him. That had to mean something, and his kisses…heat cascaded through her sharp and wicked at the mere memory.
“King Gidon,” Saieke said softy. She drew back, startled for suddenly he was in front of her. They really had to stop doing that. “I have some questions and a request.”
The grey of his eyes swirled with liquid silver and something akin to hope. It was very unnerving.
“Proceed,” he commanded.
“How will you guarantee my safety?”
He lifted his hand, and the five Darkans stationed at the door appeared behind him. “I have selected five warriors who will be your shadow and protection until you leave. Your safety will be their only duty.”
“How do I know that I will not be attacked by one of these men? The men who attacked me, were they not part of your warrior forces? They wore the same dark robes as these men with the same insignia.”
Gidon stared at her appraisingly. “They were indeed from the warrior order; however I can guarantee you that you will not be threatened again while you are here.”
Saieke observed the five men. The coldness that came from them was bone deep and chilling.
