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Gia isn’t sulking now. Entertained by all the drama, her eyes are lit with interest as she watches her annoyed husband. Obviously, she likes seeing him worked up, and he returns her attention with a twitch of his lips and a wink.
Such a dysfunctional dynamic.
“It’s true, if it weren’t for your deviation from the plan, I wouldn’t have ended up with my wife,” Vaeront agrees. “But I also wouldn’t be dealing with your incessant whining.”
My face screws up. “Incessant whining? When have I ever asked you for anything?”
“Oh, the Empath changed me,” he mocks, flapping his hands animatedly. “She gave me my feelings back. I shouldn’t have stolen the royal women because they hurt me. Boo hoo, boo hoo.”
Gia snickers at his antics behind her gag.
“I don’t sound like that,” I grit out.
“Yes, you do. It’s insufferable.” Anger suddenly radiates off Vaeront as he stands and comes toward me. “You’ve been depressed ever since. Where’s my loyal minion? Where’s the unremorseful bastard who I considered a dear friend?”
Dear friend? That’s new. And an extreme exaggeration.
Vaeront and I have never been buddies. There’s only one way with him—his way.
Perhaps that’s why he and Gia butt heads so much. She doesn’t strike me as the type to bow down to anyone. And Merina… she’s more powerful than Vaeront, more powerful than all of us, but she doesn’t flaunt it. She allows the overlord to think he’s in control.
The witch clears her throat. “Can we just get on with it?” Grabbing Faith’s wrist, she addresses me. “Where am I taking her?”
Reluctantly, I give her the coordinates to Faith’s apartment. Then the swirling behind the pair starts, and within several seconds, they’re being sucked into the vortex.
The air stills after they disappear.
As Merina uses my power, the fatigue becomes so intense it makes me ache.
“Vaeront.” The weakness in my body becomes too much, and my legs give out. I end up on my knees. “I’m begging you.”
“Begging me for what?”
“Don’t take her.”
“Take who?”
“Hannah.”
Beaming, he coos, “Hannah. The target has a name.”
I should’ve known voicing my specific wish would only make him more interested, and hopelessness crashes down on me.
“The farm,” I suggest next, my words slurring from exhaustion. “That’s the other offer I have. Hannah’s father is willing to give it to us.”
“Human property?” Vaeront barks out a disbelieving laugh. “Why would I want that?”
“It produces delicious food beyond your wildest dreams. It’s like magic.” Before he can turn me down again, I continue, “We could have some of your men take turns being stationed there. They could harvest the resources and send them back to you.”
“The treaty with the kings and queens of Valora already includes monthly shipments of goods.”
“Do you really want to rely on a shaky truce to survive? To compromise your desires at the whims of other rulers?” Now I’m appealing to Vaeront’s pride. “Wouldn’t you rather have independence? Self-reliance?”
Steepling his fingers over his lips, he paces over to his throne and takes a seat. “And how would we facilitate the travel of these workers?”
Vaeront doesn’t even need to ask, but I answer anyway. “I would do it.”
Merina could help with the back and forth, but it would exhaust us both. It’s best if I take on the job. At least it would keep me busy.
