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He couldn’t need his vengeance the way he needed Cookie. He just couldn’t.
Her chest squeezed. “Agreed. But Kaysar? I honestly don’t think I’ll remember anything else. If she’s in here—” Cookie tapped her temple, then her heart “—she’s not strong enough to show me anything else. I’m probably too powerful or whatever.” To be honest, she kind of believed the two visions she’d seen had been Lulundria’s last-ditch effort to warn her away from Kaysar.
The princess who died hating him had given Cookie a gift. For Cookie to shack up with her killer—yikes. A totally sucky move on Cookie’s part. No doubt it had a top spot on the list of How Not to Be Appreciative of the Person Who Saved Your Life. But she wasn’t backing down, reversing her decision, or giving Lulundria and Jareth Frostline a chance to change her mind.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “You learned to use her powers as naturally as breathing...as if she taught you herself.”
“Maybe it’s muscle memory? Or thanks to the elderseed?” Cookie hadn’t wanted to discuss it before because she honestly had no idea.
A knock sounded at the door, and she jolted. Kaysar came to his feet, his single set of claws curled in—ready.
His aggression awakened hers. She crouched on the bed, covering herself in vines and preparing to strike.
“Whoever stands outside that door,” he bellowed, fastening his leathers, “will be wearing their innards if I’m unsatisfied with the reason for this interruption.”
“The ballroom is ready, your majesty,” came the reply. A woman, oddly upbeat considering her life was at stake.
Kaysar’s irritation vanished in a blink. He brightened. “Your subjects await you, sweetling.”
“Wait,” Cookie cried, hit by an unexpected and violent tsunami of misgiving. What should she wear? How should she style her hair? Did she plan to be a benevolent queen or a malevolent one? A girl should know these things before she assumed a role of leadership. First impressions mattered greatly.
And what if Micah attacked her mid-queening on day one? She hadn’t yet honed her abilities—abilities he knew about. The element of surprise was gone. As a natural resident of this kingdom—and this world—Micah might know what weakened or stopped her. If he beat her in front of her own people...
No, no. Cookie needed training and a lot of it before she assumed control of her kingdom.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not ready, Kaysar. I won’t go to the ballroom, and you can’t make me. I’m staying right here, and yes, I will die on this hill. Don’t try to change my mind.” Her cowardice was humiliating. He was so strong, and she was being so weak. If he decided to ditch her because of this...
Good riddance.
“You will never die. You aren’t allowed.” He flittered to her side, sat on the mattress and cupped her cheek. He gentled his tone, saying, “Sweetling, the gathering was merely a suggestion. If ever I plan something that’s disagreeable to you, you have only to tell me, and I’ll gladly cancel it in favor of another. I can give you anything you want, but only if I know what it is.”
Okay. All right. Kaysar was kind of being amazing right now. Her heart rate and breathing slowed. “Thank you. I think I’d prefer to train with the apprentice this morning.”
“Of course.” He kissed her brow. Rising to his feet, he called, “Eye! Send the people away immediately. Be sure they understand they have offended their queen with their impertinence, and they shall be punished if ever it occurs again.”
Cookie pinched the bridge of her nose. Malevolent it is.
“I’ve left a gift for you in the closet.” Kaysar smoothed his hair. Such a normal task for such an extraordinary man. He swiped his shirt from the floor, then tossed the material into the hearth. “I haven’t forgotten the kingdom mandate for shirts. I hope you’ll recall it, as well.” He winked at her. “Dress and meet me in the throne room. Your training will begin as soon as you’re ready.”
Perfect. “Where’s the—”
He vanished with a grin.
“—throne room?” she finished her question for an audience of zero.
Whatever. Gift! Cookie sprinted to the closet and flung open the door, soaring inside.
Everything looked the same, nothing added. Except... Head canted, she crossed to the built-in dresser. Something metal gleamed on the surface. A weapon?
Frowning, she lifted a thin line of links—metal claws tipped the ends.
Kaysar had given her the right set and kept the left for himself. One of the claws punctured a note. She freed the paper and read the flowing script.
Our team uniform.
Pressing the claws to her chest, she grinned and looked over her current dress choices. Whom did she want to be today? The evil queen or the innocent shepherdess?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
KAYSAR OCCUPIED CHANTEL’S throne room and perched on her throne, an elaborate monstrosity made from solid gold, with flowers carved throughout. He’d recruited a goldsmith to add them while she’d slept off the effects of the elderseed. Would his Briar Rose approve?
