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Damn Bracken.
He was not my king, but there was not much I could do but accept his terms. A contract, he no doubt found utterly hilarious.
To me, it was torture.
I had my reasons, the same as Valen, for despising weak spines and traitors.
To bind me to the woman who could not find a backbone sturdy enough to even save her friends, and a young princess who admired her, was not a game. It was a prison sentence that darkened the vigor of life.
Still, with all my disdain, I hadn’t puzzled through why I had not let the blade fall on her neck.
A nudge. A gut twist. Something loosened my tongue, and I agreed to the hundred turn sentence in lieu of watching Saga’s head split from her shoulders.
I shoved the final black tunic into the thick canvas traveling pack and dragged my palms down my face, massaging the tension from my skull. I hated very few in this life, so what a stroke of irony that I was tethered to the woman I could not look at without dreaming of ways to end her.
Except now she knew I wouldn’t.
I’d spared her life. No doubt, the moment of weakness would be used against me.
I tied the ends of the pack together and conjured up ideas on how to torment my new serf for the next century until my grin, no doubt, looked similar to that vicious grin Kase always gave before he laid out a deadly scheme in that black heart of his.
Knuckles rapped on my door. “Ships are ready. I thought we might walk to the docks together.”
Valen folded his arms over his chest and grinned.
How far we’d come. Once he’d been my prisoner, once he thought I would vow with Elise for the gain of Etta. No mistake, my king had wanted to wring my neck a hundred times, but I could easily say Valen Ferus had become my truest friend. But not even my king knew everything that went on up in my head.
Truth be told, I could not think of a person alive who knew the truth of my past.
I’d rather keep certain things to myself. Some secrets were too tainted and dark to share.
“I would consider it an honor.” I shouldered the pack and followed him out the door. “And by honor, I mean an honor for you, My King.”
Valen laughed and nudged my arm.
The Black Palace grounds were already changing. Gone were enslaved Alver folk. Now mesmer would be free to walk in the sunlight. The Falkyn smugglers and Kryv would manage the massive trade square, and unlike the North’s transition when Valen and Elise took the throne, the noble folk seemed overjoyed to have their fated queen returned to them.
Superstitious bastards. All they needed to witness was Malin’s control of the ring and their enemies didn’t stand a chance. The people of the East wouldn’t have allowed anyone but the king and queen of shadows.
My heart warmed as I caught the final farewells with Hagen and Herja.
“It will be good to see your sister with her family after so long,” I told Valen.
He nodded. “Laila has not stopped making plans with her daj and the two littles they’re taking in once they return. And she’s already making demands that Malin and Kase must come visit her and frighten the children of the gentry. Laila finds the noble littles rude.”
I laughed. The little princess was too kindhearted. “We left with the North with one stowaway child and are returning with a handful more.”
“True.” Valen’s eyes drifted to Sol and Tor. I smiled as the Sun Prince and Torsten laughed when the big-eyed fae infant cooed at a rune charm Tor dangled over his face. Valen nudged my ribs “Aleksi is the name Sol and Tor picked for the boy.”
“Aleksi. I like it. Almost sounds like Ari.”
Valen chuckled. “Right. Almost.” He paused halfway down one of the docks. “Ari. I wanted to discuss something with you.”
“Discuss away. I am always at your whims, unless they become tiresome, or irksome, or I am otherwise engaged. Then, I will, in fact, ignore you without remorse.”
“I hoped you would return to the South to keep watch on Gunnar as they prepare for the vows.”
“Not as the ambassador?”
