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Another sip. With a determined pivot and sad glance over her shoulder, she told him, “There’s no need. You can’t. And there’s no need to prolong this, either. No reason to fight an unwinnable battle and waste everyone’s time. I truly hope you have a nice life, Kaysar. I certainly plan to. Maybe we’ll see each other around.”
* * *
THE MEET AND GREET with Cookie’s subjects arrived two weeks after her confrontation with Kaysar. Who she refused to miss. Or even consider. He’d maintained his distance, as she’d asked. And that was great. Everything was great. Wonderful. But...
He’d also negotiated a temporary truce with Micah. The other king would be setting up camp on the other side of the Dusklands, where he would stay for a year. Anyone who wished to serve him, could. Any who opted to remain with Cookie, would. Once the year was up, all bets were off.
Kaysar was working tirelessly to ensure she had a secure home, and she didn’t know how to feel about it.
Anyway. Cookie had chosen a skintight, strapless scarlet gown with a heart-shaped neckline and pooling hem for the occasion. A high-collared cape draped her shoulders. Ruby jewels glittered from her ears, neck and wrists. On her head, a crown of her own thorns and roses. She’d almost picked the crystal one Kaysar had given her, but she hadn’t wanted to think about him every second of the event...like she was doing now.
She drummed her thorn nails against the arm of her throne. The man didn’t deserve her consideration. He’d claimed he’d wanted her; when she’d shot him down, he’d ditched her. Again. Anyway. Enough of that.
She’d decided to be a queen of hearts. She would win her people with her fair judgments and an amazing revitalization plan. Anyone who harmed innocents would face Judge Cookie. Everyone else would just have to learn to live with her ever-changing personality quirks.
Speaking of personality quirks, Pearl Jean and Sugars had settled in nicely. Pearl Jean had moved into the room next to Cookie’s, and Sugars had claimed the entire castle as his toy box. Servants doted on the oldest-looking person in all the land and treated the hissing little panther with the adoration he deserved.
The two had thrones of their own, Sugars to her left and Pearl Jean to her right.
Only Amber and Jareth had visited Cookie. She’d told the prince everything she’d learned about Lulundria and given him the photo she’d pilfered from the cottage, and he’d unashamedly shed a tear. Cookie had hugged him, affection for him growing. Affection, but nothing more. She actually counted the guy as a friend.
He stood between the biggest thrones, acting as guard as joyous citizens of the Dusklands brought her gifts of welcome, thanks and praises. Plant life thrived once again, and the people celebrated.
“What’s the holdup?” Pearl Jean demanded. She took to her role as second-in-command quite seriously. “Where’s the next well-wisher? Let’s get this done.” Rubbing her lower back, she shifted to get more comfortable. “My sciatica is flaring.”
Sugars yawned.
Fae, minotaurs, centaurs and an assortment of other species had traipsed about the throne room for hours. But Cookie had seen the line before convening with her first subject. The procession should continue for hours more. So why wasn’t anyone movi—
Never mind. The answer strutted inside with a determined expression. Kaysar. Her heart jumped at the sight of him. He looked good. Shirtless. Leathers. Combat boots. Eyes and hair wild. Amber strode behind him.
“Is that who I think it is?” Pearl Jean asked softly. “Because me-wow.”
He stopped before the dais and bowed. “Your majesty.”
“Kaysar,” she said with a nod. “I have nothing left to say to you.” And yet, she longed to hurl herself into his arms. But she’d made that mistake before.
“I know you don’t, sweetling. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll do all the talking.” He offered a small but affectionate smile, and her chest constricted. “I have tasted of what life is like without you, and there is no worse future for me. My lesson has been learned. That is why I’ve come to welcome you to the Dusklands, as so many others have, and pledge my fealty. From this moment on, your enemies are my enemies. Those who wrong you, wrong me. Those who harm you will suffer my wrath in ways that would make my treatment of the Frostlines seem like a child’s game. My present and future belong to you. I humbly beg you to accept them, but I understand if you refuse. Either way, you are my only family, and my loyalty remains unwavering.”
“Kaysar—”
“There’s more,” he interjected. As she watched, slack-jawed, he sank his claws into his shoulder and with a little digging, ripped off the birth control tattoo. He tossed the section of flesh at her feet. An offering. “My vengeance against the Frostlines is over. Done. When you are ready for children, I am ready to give them to you.”
