Page 6 of Queen of War and Ruin

Zarek grins as I flick crushed pea insides off my thumb.

“Like this,” he says, handing me another pod.

This time, he wraps his hands around mine, guiding my fingers to either side of the pod. His chest presses against my shoulder; his breath is warm against my neck. My heart flutters inside my ribs as he presses my fingers down, just enough to make the pod yield and open.

“Oh,” I whisper. My voice is high and thin.

Zarek guides my thumb down the soft inside of the pod, pressing the peas into the basket. When he rocks back, I turn to face him. Our lips are so close. Memories rush over me, kissing under the lanterns, laughing and toasting our union, dancing together in a dozen town squares, his arms around my waist, his body pressed to mine, the long, hard length of him between my legs⁠—

He leans back, then turns away. And the moment shatters like glass. I stare at the empty pea husk in my hands, telling myself what came next. What always came next. We’d be led to a room, the best room in the town, with a massive, elaborate bed.

And Zarek would leave the room, saying Anura should stay with me instead. Or he’d turn away from me. He’d collapse on the bed, facing the wall, or on the floor in front of the door. Once the door was closed, it was like I didn’t exist.

The kisses were always and only for show.

That question rises again, nagging at me. I take a deep breath, then turn to the man who was forced to marry me.

“You thought I was pregnant,” I say. “Didn’t you? When we got married?”

Zarek blinks, and for a moment I’m absurdly pleased that I managed to surprise him.

“I did.”

He says the words slowly, almost like it hurts to admit. I turn to stare at my pea-stained fingers as they twist in my lap.

“And you knew about the potion,” I continue. “The one that would get rid of a pregnancy.”

Wind rustles the leaves above us, casting shifting pools of light over his dark hair and the furrows on his brow.

“Why didn’t you make me take it?” I ask. My voice is high and thin, but I manage to get the question out.

Zarek stares at me like he doesn’t understand the words coming out of my mouth.

“Because it’s dangerous,” he growls. “Women die from that godsdamned sludge. Look at what it did to you, and you weren’t even pregnant.”

“But,” I stammer. “If you thought I was pregnant, and you married me anyway— You would have let me have someone else’s child? Under your name?”

Zarek laughs. It’s such a strange reaction that I wonder if he’s even heard my question.

“My name,” Zarek mutters, shaking his head. “Look, Princess. I don’t have any royal lineage to protect.”

The moment on the hillside rushes back to me. The man on horseback, spreading his arms and welcoming us to Dungal. Introducing himself as Prince Zarek.

“Of course I would have claimed your child,” Zarek continues. “And I would have protected them as best I could.”

He falls silent. There’s a strange look on his face, something dark and hard, as though he’s staring into some horrible future instead of a half-full basket of pea pods. I move my hand, reaching for him, then think better of it and let it drop to the stone bench between us.

“What happened?” I whisper. “How did you end up in Vsenrog? Why does that man here say he’s Zarek?”

My voice fades, carried away by the wind. Zarek runs his hand through his hair, then turns to me and shakes his head.

“Because he is,” he replies. “I was only supposed to be Prince Zarek for one night.”

Chapter 4

Zarek

LIVES DEPENDED ON ME