“You doing okay?” Angus leaned down and asked her tenderly, brushing a knuckle across her cheek.
Johnneth’s mouth fell open as she grinned.
“Still worth it,” she uttered between clenched teeth. “Completely. Fucking. Worth it.”
“We’re going to get you cleaned up. I’ll show Specialist Althorpe what to do in case I’m not here next time. Then you can rest. I won’t leave you until you’re healed,” Angus assured her.
It was an arduous task, picking out bits of fabric and the queen’s long hair from the wounds already trying to scab over.
“How is she healing so fast?” Johnneth asked, smoothing a section of hair along with the others.
“The wounds created by the Gods are imbued with their power, which speeds the healing. Sometimes it’s blood, sometimes bruised or broken bones. Others, the pain is only mental or internal, and she complains of blinding headaches. She’ll be good as new by the morning.” Angus angled his head to observe the other man. “I know the first time it is startling. But it’s a price she is willing to pay. All the Dallimore’s were, though I think the Gods have it out for Caroline. I gather she can be pretty defiant with them.”
Caroline’s torso rumbled under Johnneth’s fingers, and he winced, hoping he wasn’t causing her any more pain. He’d had no idea what the Dallimore’s had gone through to use their cursed power. No one outside of Roskide did. His family endured no such suffering for the gift they’d received from the Gods. But his ancestors hadn’t thought to make such a bold request. He and Caroline winced in sync as he pulled a fiber from a deep lash. The humanity in him couldn’t help but feel for her pain. Not that it changed anything, did it?
“I hate them,” Caroline ground out.
As they finished getting her cleaned up, the mixed feelings Johnneth was experiencing toward the woman they had sent him to execute danced through his mind. He volunteered, really. It was how much he hated her, the Dallimore family, and everything she represented. But when he was in her orbit, he wasn’t quite himself. It was like her draw pulled him in and his blood took on a new vibration as it drifted through his veins. Protect her, take her, claim her, it said.Marry her.
Angus smoothed back her hair, finger combing it and it took all Johnneth’s self-control not to grab his hand and push him away from her despite the fact Angus was more like a brother to her than anything. And it didn’t matter that he’d been moments away from being the one to hurt her—kill her—himself. He wanted to lean over her limp, damaged body and shield her from the world like some kind of fucking animal. Gods, what had gotten into him?
She was a pretty woman. Nothing more.Liar, the voice said. Okay, she was smart, and pretty.And interesting, resilient, willful, the voice continued. He wanted to groan. If only there were some sort of switch that could shut his inner monologue up until he could get out of her presence, but he was stuck until Angus released him.
Could he have finished her if he’d gotten the dagger free? He liked to think he would have. But her damaged body had been so soft in his arms, so vulnerable, and his hands so very shaky. Even as he’d massaged her neck before, she’d become so pliant for him, melting into his touch. Arousing things within him, he ought not to be feeling toward this woman.
Caroline’s eyes twitched and her breathing evened. She was sleeping and Angus instructed Johnneth to go get some rest as well.Finally. He also gave him another scolding about shirking his duties for a quick lay which he dutifully took.
Johnneth looked over at the queen one last time before he obeyed. Then images of Veetula and his family sprouted in his mind. A sword buried in a king’s belly and the vibrant life draining from his sapphire eyes. Yes, he would have done it. Defeated, Johnneth left the room, determined not to replay his past mistake at the next opportunity.
Chapter 10
“Bringinthenextpetitioner,” Caroline called. She leaned over and whispered to Angus, “Who’s next?”
Her commander studied the roster he was holding, then regarded Caroline. “Looks like it’s a hunger case, then a murder. After that is an abuse allegation. Another one came in saying it was urgent, something about spousal misconduct and I figured you’d want to see them, so I added them to the list last minute.”
“Perfect,” she said. She would never admit it, but her body still ached from their vengeance the night before. Nothing a trip to the underground springs couldn’t cure. And maybe another massage from her very masculine, very attentive personal guard. The way his calluses brushed over her skin so gently liquified her. She couldn’t help but wonder what else those hands were capable of. She stole a glance at him behind her left shoulder. A shiver stole across her skin as she greedily raked her eyes across his towering form.Mine. The word popped into her mind before she could stop it. He shifted, as if sensing her attention, but never lowered his eyes to her, keeping them fixed on the room before them.
It would irritate Angus if she bedded him, but there were perks to being queen. And why should she deny herself if he was someone who might resurrect her no-good heart? Angus would have to…Angus, that’s right. Caroline brought her attention out of her fantasy and back to her commander.
“Can’t they all be simple tax evasion cases?” She’d swiftly dealt with three this morning. The people always had excuses, but either they confessed if their hardship was real in the end, or she compelled them. Simple.
The cases where the humans of Everstal wronged each other were exhausting, but her hands-on approach and swift punishments were how she kept the populace in check. Yes, there were smaller courts in the outlying towns of her kingdom, but she oversaw the worst cases herself, and those within the boundary of Roskide and the surrounding city.
Caroline sat on the altar in the Oratory of Roskide. When she’d begun the petitions she held them in the Great Hall, the very one where her father had presented her the throne she now sat upon. The very location where he’d been murdered—taken from her. But she’d blocked all that out and barred the doors to the expansive room. The Oratory was the practical choice for these proceedings. Especially since she and Angus had re-decorated after she’d decided she had little use for a room for prayer to the Gods.
The oratory, which was on Roskide’s first floor, another perk as it kept the public at a distance, had minimal furnishings. The rose-colored stone, like everything else in the castle, made up the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. It was like being in a pink room. She had taken the hanging tapestries down depicting each of the five Gods and replaced them with hand-painted murals. Like everything, she’d taken great care to explain her vision to the artists. They’d turned out better than she’d expected, and she paid the artists handsomely.
The one on the expansive wall to her right showed Roskide resting on the old mountain peak, its signature scarlet roses crawling up the hillside and over the castle. The mural to the left was of roses in every color, not only red. The vines snaked around the many small windows, which illuminated the space and up toward the ceiling. Her favorite was the mural behind her, though. It was a larger version of the single iridescent black rose her father had ordered carved and painted on the back of her throne. The vines which it bloomed atop grew up from the gold and ruby crown she never deigned to wear. It was too big, and gold clashed with her skin. The painting crowned the queen sufficiently, anyway.
She glanced over at Johnneth who always seemed a little worried during the petitions. “Having fun?”
He pressed his mouth into an anxious line. Most often, only Angus attended the Petitions, giving Johnneth a break from his duty, but Angus had wanted Johnneth to stand in today. Directly after the proceedings, her commander was leaving to conduct a military training which pulled him away from her occasionally.
“Next,” Caroline called.
Angus motioned to guards at the door who led a bedraggled-looking woman and four ratty children all under the age of ten. The woman’s clothes were in tatters, as were the children’s, and their little gaunt faces pinched her black heart.
When they’d made their way to the foot of the dais, Caroline leaned down, inspecting them. “Explain.”
