I raise my brows. “I was simply surprised you’d show me where you live. My standards these days top out at wherever my brother isn’t trying to kill me, which makes this wagon better than any castle. Would you like to sell it to me?”
My attempt at humor is wasted on him. He crosses his arms. “In fact, your brother’s men have nosed around my camp quite a few times, looking for you. I allowed him to search the wagons once, but I refuse to be subjected to the constant monitoring he wants to impose. His commander found my mercenaries could be incredibly uncooperative when their space wasn’t respected.”
I snort. “I’m learning never to underestimate you, Jaqual.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “You didn’t come here to flatter me, Damien.”
“No.” I take a deep breath and think of Eloise. “I don’t think you ever wanted my wife.”
His gaze locks on mine, and he goes absolutely still. His violet eyes turn hungry, and I realize my mistake too late. He moves in close, backing me against the cabinets along the far wall of the wagon. “Then have you come to offer yourself?”
I clear my throat as his hand closes around it. Iswallow against his palm. “What I meant was that you wanted the dragon, not the woman.”
He does not back off. His nose comes closer to mine. “Do you want the woman, Damien?” he asks softly.
“I do,” I answer.
He backs up a step, a look of disappointment on his sharp features, and spreads his hands. “Secret’s out. I have no use for Eloise, other than advancing my political agenda.” He picks an apple from a fruit bowl on the small counter, tosses it into the air, and catches it. “To be fair, it was never a secret. Any Rivertoad could tell you I have no interest in women at all.”
Once again, I’ve allowed my jealousy to get in the way of common sense and diplomacy. Have I learned nothing from my time in Night Haven and Eloise’s relationship with Marcel, Everald, and George? Am I a slave to my mating instincts like some adolescent boy who can’t control his temper?
“I owe you an apology,” I say with utmost sincerity.
He snorts and eats a slice of apple off his knife. “Don’t bother yourself, Damien. I didn’t take your rejection to heart.”
“No. Not that. I’m afraid you were right about my father, about the old biases that existed between us. I wanted to believe that how my family—how the kingdom, really—treated your people was deserved. And I think the way I jumped to the conclusion that your intentions for my wife were no better than King Entrydal’s had everything to do with those biases. I see now that I was wrong.”
“What did King Entrydal do to Eloise?”
I draw a deep breath. He wouldn’t know the details, although I’m surprised there are no rumors of her time incaptivity. “He abducted her, tortured her, almost killed her,” I admit. “I was able to get her out, only because I had help from the witches of Dimhollow.”
He gives a low whistle. “He is a bastard, that one.”
“So, you see, I am not one to trust the intentions of any man when it comes to my wife. And what I said was true about her. She makes her own choices and is more powerful than any of us. But all that doesn’t excuse my reaction. I should have acknowledged what you were trying to achieve as a king.”
“You should know that king is a poor name for what I am. Rivertoads don’t have castles, and we don’t have royalty. The name for what I am among my people iscalla die. In our language, it means “Wise One,” and it is an elected position. Never mind that anyone who was actually wise would avoid the role at all costs.”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” I say with a laugh. Despite everything, I like Jaqual. “What a mess this kingdom has become.”
“Is this why you came?” he asks more forcefully. “To apologize and nothing more?”
“No. Although it would be reason enough. I came again to ask for your support. I need your help to overthrow my brother and his dark elf queen.”
“And to put you on the throne,” he says through his teeth. “Don’t forget your true goal.”
I swallow. Here we go. “Not necessarily.”
He leans forward from where he’s perched on the edge of his bed and places the half-eaten apple carefully in his fruit bowl. “Tell me more.”
“What if I agreed to an election? All citizens of Stygarde would vote for who should lead it. If I amelected, I become king and vow to rule more justly than my family before me. If you, or anyone else, are elected, I will step down peacefully and allow you to rule.”
He squints at me. “You would allow me, a grimy Rivertoad, to rule from your father’s throne and sleep in your mother’s bed.”
“Yes,” I say quickly, knowing I would. “What good is coveting a palace or a throne if I’m not alive to enjoy it?”
He scoffs, the amulet around his neck winking. “You’re lying. There’s no way in hell a Hymir would voluntarily give up the throne.”
I gesture at the amulet. “You know if I’m telling the truth.”
