AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Livia’s mouth curled into an unexpected sneer, and she leaned into me.
All at once, I wanted nothing more than to step back. There was a vast difference between me breaking through her boundaries compared to when she broke through mine.
The princess added another slice of discomfort when she walked her fingers up the center of my chest. “I will tell you something, Bloodsinger.” Her voice was soft and breathless. “When I claim that moment of bravery, it will not be sudden. It will be slow. It will be well thought out. I will wait until I have you in my grasp. You may not even realize it has happened. In that moment, I will strike and watch you bleed.”
I couldn’t help the grin that followed her beautifully violent speech. Innocent and gentle, yet when prodded enough, out came the vicious beauty within. And she was mine. In what capacity, I hadn’t decided. To ruin, to manipulate, to claim. Each had its merit and appeal.
“I do love when you try to seduce me.” I pinched a lock of her satin hair between my fingers, drawing the curl beneath my nose.
Livia’s mouth tightened, but she said nothing more.
Larsson leaned his hip against the rail, his back to the princess, voice low. “Lady Narza surprised us all. She arrived before dawn and wishes to first speak with you alone.”
“Of course, she does.” I tightened my hold on the hilt of my cutlass. “Stay with the women.”
“Have I done something to offend you, My King?”
Bastard chuckled like he’d won some great victory when I failed to keep the amusement hidden behind a scowl.
Tait glowered and smoked sweet herbs, avoiding my gaze.
“With me,” was all I said, and strode down the gangplank into a growing crowd of people who lived on the isle of the Tower, all awaiting their king.
Gods, I despised them all.
CHAPTER20
The Serpent
My leg roared in burning pain by the time we approached the upper room. The Tower was a mere five levels, but by the end the pain scorched deep enough I wanted Tait to lift me onto his back.
I clenched my hands to keep from rubbing the knot.
Tait’s scowl deepened. “Blister Poppy is here. She might have that peppercorn oil you—”
“Utter another word, and I will stitch your tongue to the top of your mouth.”
Tait snorted his disdain but had the brains to shut up. Few people knew how much trouble the wounds from my childhood caused, and I didn’t need reminders that to most of my people the visible scars were marks of a broken king. A weak king.
On this level, the debauchery in the pub on the first floor was nothing but a muffled commotion. The tower was made of chipped wood, a few crystal sea stones, grime, and dust. It suited us well enough. A window adorned each side of the upper floor, giving us the vantage of watching every horizon for threats.
A floor below was where lords from noble houses would take the finer rooms with furs and silks. The middle floors held the washrooms and simple bed chambers with straw mattresses and tattered quilts. Finery mattered little when the rooms were meant to serve as a quick thrust into a lover’s hole, then move on back to the pub for more.
Tait knocked on the door once, then stood aside.
“Keep watch, but if time drones on, turn your sights to the princess. No one is to touch her.” The need for answers regarding Livia Ferus was potent. As though my fight to save the Ever Kingdom had somehow shifted to a battle for her.
The room wasn’t large, but there was space enough for a table with two chairs and a single cot against one wall.
Near a table lined in seed bread loaves, pungent herbs, and herring oil, a woman in a tattered black cloak devoured a corner of the bread. Loud movements of her tongue lapped and slurped at the dribble of oil.
“Hail to the king,” she said, voice rough as though she’d been screaming for days.
She faced me. Milky eyes flicked wildly in her head, never seeing me, yet trapping me in her gaze all at once.
“No need for disguises, Lady Narza.” I kept a distance, holding my place by the door. “It’s only us here.”
Little by little, the marred skin and tattered robes bled into a new form, until Narza stood upright, shoulders back, her skin blemish free and pale enough there was a touch of blue to the tone. Her gown hugged the slender shape of her figure, and on her waist was a silver dagger crusted in blue clam shells that glowed in darkness, giving off light.
