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“Our king left us to die on the edge of his kingdom,” the man said, his voice just as scarred as his body. “If that is the title you claim, then you may have it, along with the souls of our dead.”
I tilted my head to the side. “The dead have always burdened me. What are a few more?”
The mortal stared and then spoke quietly to the others. “The Blood King mocks our grief.”
I straightened my neck, the corner of my mouth lifting.
I knew this game. This brave, stupid mortal wanted to be a martyr. I wondered what spurred his sacrifice. Who had offered something more to believe in than the safety of my rule?
“If you wanted your death to mean something, you should have chosen to fight the monsters in your woods.”
“They only exist because of you,” he said. “Perhaps if you die, they would too.”
I chuckled at his ignorant response. It was a common belief among the people of Cordova, and many had attempted to assassinate me, believing that if I died, other monsters would follow, but I was a creation of Dis, and the monsters were creations of Asha. We were not the same, though we were all eager for the blood of mortals.
“I cannot die,” I said.
This time, the man smirked. “We do not need to takeyourlife to end you.”
This response tightened every muscle in my body. Until this moment, I admired this man’s courage, but his words were dangerous and a direct threat to my queen. Despite this, I did not think he knew about my weakness; rather, he threatened Isolde because he knew I loved her.
“Is that a thread of humanity I see in your eyes?” the man asked, offering a raspy chuckle.
I moved at an imperceptible speed, appearing behind the martyr, striking his ankles. He cried out and collapsed to the muddy ground as I placed my palm against his forehead and jerked his head back.
“I am certain you wished to die quickly,” I said near his ear. “But threats against my queen deserve an agonizing end.”
Once more, he laughed. “I do not care how I die. I shall join my goddess in the sky.”
“Your goddess?” I seethed, truly mocking him. Asha did not protect her mortals in life, so why would she protect them in death? “Have you forgotten that all the dead belong to Dis?”
“Not anymore,” he said. “The light is coming, and she will cast out your darkness. It happened once before and it will happen again. Only we will not leave ash and bone behind.”
I was used to my rage, but his words took me a step beyond, past a point where I could extend death. As I moved to drag my blade across his neck, the creak of a bow drew my attention, but before I could rise to my feet, the arrow had lodged in the old man’s head.
I pulled it free with a jerk, twisting it in my hand. I reared back and sent it flying in the direction it came, satisfied with the groan that sounded from the shadows as I hit my target.
In the next second, a hooded man fell face-first in the mud, dead, and I wondered how many more would die by my hand today.
Finally, Gesalac appeared.
He had exited one of the run-down buildings, dressed in gold armor. His finery was misplaced here among the worn and ruined village, though it seemed he had managed to gain their trust. I wondered how many years it had taken. Had he worked the land beside them? Had he helped repair roofs and gathered wheat to knead bread?
Those were the actions that would gain their devotion.
I stepped around the mortal at my feet.
“Once again, you choose your queen over your people,” said Gesalac.
“Is my love for Isolde your only critique of my reign? If so, I will have to assume you are jealous,” I said. “Are you in love with me, Gesalac?”
The vampire’s eyes narrowed.
“You murdered my son.”
“He is not the first son I have murdered, nor, I imagine, the last, but let us not pretend that your vengeance is fueled by fatherly devotion. You want my throne, my empire.”
He chuckled. “What empire? What kingdoms have you conquered since you began fucking that woman?”
