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I did ask for honesty. What was the point in sparing feelings? I’d rather be prepared. “Tell me.”
“After the events of last night, I’ve come to realize the Ever is too foreign for land fae to be walking about freely.”
Dammit. He planned to keep me truly caged, maybe bound or chained in his small chamber on the ship. I rubbed another sprig of serenleaf between my fingers; this wasn’t a surprise, so it’d do no good to wallow.
“I won’t risk you getting your pretty neck carved up or taken from me prematurely.” Erik took another drink from his goblet. “So, I will claim you.”
My brows pinched in the center. “Claim me? You have already taken me—”
“To claim a prize from a raid is more than simply declaring you belong to me. It’s not done often, not unless a crewman feels a particular connection to a piece.”
“A piece.” I scoffed. “An object.”
Bloodsinger tilted his head, grinning. “What would you like me to call you, Songbird? My pet?”
“Livia.” My name sliced between my teeth, jagged and harsh. I clenched my fists. “I would have you call me Livia Ferus, daughter of Valen and Elise, blood of the Night Folk fae. Blood that is not yours to win like some treasure.”
“Ah, but you might be my greatest treasure.” Erik studied me; his fingers swirled around his goblet; his coy, half-grin never faded. “And what is wrong with it? The title you wish me to say is quite a mouthful.”
“Bastard.” I shook my head and looked away.
The king laced his long fingers together and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “To be claimed,Livia, means it is punishable by death should anyone touch you.”
“I’ve always dreamed of being an object for a tyrant. Tell me, Bloodsinger, how many women have you claimed before?”
“None,” he said. “It is a risk. You will be mine, meaning you are in my possession. You’re near me, in my palace, my chambers. We’re not exactly seeing eye to eye, love.”
“Think I’ll stab you in the night?”
He hesitated. “No. You wouldn’t be able to do it.”
“Ah, this sick claiming ritual keeps you safe from me, then?”
“No.” He slipped his hand inside his tunic and pulled out the silver swallow. “This does.”
“That means nothing.”
“It means something.” Erik cracked his neck to one side before going on. “Out of all the earth fae, one girl came to see to the comforts of an enemy. I thought the first night I saw you, that you would throw stones or rotten pomes at me. Imagine my surprise when, instead, you sat down and read to me.”
I didn’t want to talk about the past, didn’t want to remember the war, the blood, the nightmares. I didn’t want to remember that he still believed we had his gold disk hidden away. What would become of any of us when the king of the Ever learned I’d shattered it so long ago?
“This claiming, what exactly does it entail?”
“A public proclamation and brief binding spell.” Erik picked at another piece of fish, but never ate it. “I will arrange it once we reach the royal city. There is always a return feast when the Ever Ship arrives to port. We’ll do it there.” He leveled me in a sharp stare. “That means keep your head down for a few more sunrises, Songbird.”
“And what does it make me, being your claimed possession? Your prisoner? Your whore?”
“It makes you mine.” He glanced at the table. “It will demand the people give you respect, you will be untouchable, for you will be mine.”
“I don’t understand. Like your queen?”
Erik’s face was unreadable. “There are no Ever queens. There are mates to breed heirs. No one sits in the throne but the king; it has always been this way.”
Sounded miserable and lonely. He could say what he wished about my folk, perhaps they were his villains, but they loved fiercely and equally.
Bloodsinger sighed. “I do this not to rob you of more freedom.”
“You’ve robbed me of all my freedom.”
