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After gathering up the stack of furs and blankets from beside the fire, the woman led the way into the rest of the house. The passageway was carved deeper into the mountain, the walls smoothed with loving care even if they remained empty of fancy sconces, the floor bare of rugs. Several, rounded doorways opened on either side of the passageway. Instead of doors, they were closed with worn furs.
This family didn’t have much. They didn’t even have the full privacy of doors. Yet Rharreth would have preferred a childhood here in this cozy, small home carved from the mountain than the one he’d had in Khagniorth Stronghold, never measuring up to the cruelty and strength of his older brother and forever stuck between trying to please his hard father and his loving but helpless mother.
The woman entered the first room on the right, setting the stack of blankets and furs on the empty mattress. Had she and her husband given up every single blanket they owned for Rharreth and Melantha the night before?
“Let me know if there is anything you need, Your Majesties.” The woman bobbed a bow before she left, letting the fur door covering fall closed behind her.
No sooner had the fur settled than Melantha stepped into his arms, holding him tightly enough it was almost painful against his healing ribs. She buried her face in his shirt, and he cradled the back of her head. It took a long moment before he realized her shoulders were shaking, the front of his shirt dampening with her silent tears.
“I nearly lost you. If one of those bullets had hit your heart instead of your lungs...if my magic had not been enough...” Melantha was shaking harder.
“I know.” Rharreth pressed his face against her hair, breathing her in. That moment, when he had seen the muzzle of the repeater gun swinging toward her...it had been the deepest, rawest panic he had ever felt.
Nothing else mattered. Not his honor. His throne. His status as a strong and worthy king of the trolls. He would sacrifice all of it for her.
He cradled her face in his hands, swiping away her tears with his thumbs. “I promise that, no matter what happens, I will keep you safe. If I have to choose between my throne and keeping you safe, I will choose you. I will give it all up. My throne. My kingdom. My people. If that is what it takes.”
Melantha blinked up at him, her tears drying as her jaw hardened in the way that told him he was about to feel the brunt of her unleashed stubbornness. “You will not choose me over your kingdom. Even if you are tempted, I will not let you. We took an oath to our people, and it is our duty to uphold that, even if it puts you or me or both of us in danger.”
“I know. I know we discussed this when you started healing large numbers of the people, but...” It was hard to remember his oath, his determination, his duty with the memory of gunshots in his head.
Rharreth eased his fingers into her hair, hoping she couldn’t feel the tremors coursing through him. When had she become so precious to him? When had she become his weakness?
He now understood how those Escarlish traitors had been able to use Princess Elspeth to capture Laesornysh. If someone threatened Melantha...Rharreth would surrender in a heartbeat if that was what it took to save her.
Instead of leaning into his hand, Melantha stood straight and met his gaze, her eyes filled with fire. “I know the cost of putting emotions above duty to my kingdom. Because of my own bitterness, I betrayed my kingdom and my brother. I am not going to let you make the same mistake, not even for me. We will fight together, and together we will take back our throne and protect our people.”
The fire in her eyes stirred the heat in his own chest. This was why he had fallen in love with her. She called him out when he was weak. The same way he called her out on her weakness. They were far stronger together than they ever had been alone.
“You’re right.” Rharreth pulled her closer. She was soft and small in his arms, yet filled with a strength and fire that would refine both of them. “Thank you for being a compass when I waver. And a stone wall when I am being stubborn.”
Because of her, he would never again stand by while an injustice was done. He would not keep his head down and go along with what was happening because he did not have the courage to take the consequences of doing what was right.
Because of him, she wouldn’t linger in bitterness until it consumed her. She would never again be so focused on fitting into what was expected of her that she forgot how to live in full, passionate intensity.
Melantha leaned into him, giving him that soft, yet somehow dangerous smile of hers. “Of course, I am right. Now, are you going to kiss me already? Because I believe that is what you are supposed to do to celebrate surviving a coup by your evil cousin.”
He chuckled. He definitely wasn’t going to argue with that.
