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I stand up from my throne and leave the parting remark that will set the wheels of retribution in action.
“May the best king win my heart.”
For my kingdom will never be theirs.
Chapter 3
Levi
“Clever, clever girl.” I smirk after I’ve reread the royal letter in my hands for the fifth time tonight.
Once I’ve established that I’m not going to get any more out of it, I throw the wretched piece of paper on my table.
“I don’t get it,” my general and best friend, Brick, mumbles aggravatedly, picking up the scroll and reading the same words out loud, thinking the sound of his voice will help him decipher its true meaning. “We’re right at her doorstep, and instead of locking the bolts to her front door, she’s willingly leaving it wide open for us… to propose marriage? The fuck is that about?”
I pour some wine into my goblet and fall to my seat, cracking my neck before taking a sip.
“Levi, will you explain this shit to me, please?” he belts out, frustrated with my silence, slamming the decree back on the table. “Am I getting your soldiers ready to march farther north or am I telling them that we’re turning back home because you have to get your dick wet with royal pussy?”
“Brick.” I scowl menacingly, not liking the way he’s talking about Kat.
We might be on the verge of war, but she’s still my queen.
She’s still my Kat, even if she’s forgotten.
“Fine. I’ll hold my tongue against her royal pain in the ass. But can you just tell me what our next move is here? Huh? Because this wedding bullshit is sounding like a trap to me.”
“That’s because it is,” I deadpan before taking another sip of my cherry wine.
“Fuck. I knew it,” he grumbles despondently.
“Did you expect the contrary? She had to retaliate somehow.” I chuckle. “Although, I have to hand it to her. I never saw this move coming. And I see everything.” I grin, running the pad of my finger over the rim of my wine glass.
“This is not the time for games or riddles, Levi. The men won’t be happy to wage war on the north if they think you can get the crown without their lives being forfeited,” Brick states evenly, going right to the root of my problem.
“Ah,” I exclaim, touching the tip of my nose with my finger to point out to my confused friend that he just hit the nail on the head with his statement. “That’s exactly why her conniving plan is so clever. Don’t you see? That reaction right there is exactly what she’s counting on.”
“I don’t get it,” he mutters, his bushy auburn eyebrows pulling together at the center of his forehead, demonstrating how these royal games fly straight over his head.
I stand up from my chair and walk toward him, picking up the jug of wine and an extra goblet on the way. I pour him a glass and hand it to him to drink.
“Will getting me drunk make it easier for me to understand what the fuck is happening?”
“It might.” I chuckle, reaching for the scroll and smoothing it out on the table in front of us.
“Read the decree again.”
He does as I order and when he finishes, he offers a perplexed shrug, still unable to connect the dots on his own. I sling my arm over his shoulder, and stare at Katrina’s blue rose sigil at the bottom of the decree.
“She is offering marriage, yes, but that is all. I’d be her husband in name only, but never the true king of the north, therefore never king to the Kingdom of Aikyam.”
“Okay,” he mutters, still confused.
“But to Aikyam, that piece of information doesn’t matter. The people would still hail us both as king and queen, regardless of the fact that I hold no real power. They would assume I’d have it, and that assumption is all that really matters,” I explain, shedding some light to this fucked up situation Kat has put me in. “It’s just like you said. Why would my men willingly sacrifice their lives for me to win the north when all I have to do is marry its queen to conquer it? If I fail in winning the throne this way, that failure is on my shoulders, and mine alone. No one in the east would back my claim to the throne after such a debacle since I had unwillingly proven that I am not worthy of it. Don’t you see? She checkmated me in two moves.”
“Two?” Brick questions, still looking like his head is going to explode with all this information.
“Yes, Brick. Two. Or did you miss the part where I’m not the only one she sent this letter to?” I explain, ripping the goblet from his hand so I can drown myself with another glass of wine.
