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“You know it needs to be official.”
“Just…” Her uncle looked tired then, more man than general, slumped as if a great weight sat on his shoulders. “Remember who your father was.”
Elma sat back in her father’s chair and crossed her arms. “It’s impossible to forget.”
It wasn’tuntil the next day that Elma saw her bodyguard, in an official capacity, for the first time. She waited in her firelit parlor, a small room where she often read or napped during the long winter dark. Snow fell beyond an arched window, and though it was morning, no sunlight made its way through the thick cloud cover. It might have still been night, for how dark it was.
“Your Majesty,” said a servant, appearing at the door. “Your bodyguard, Rune.”
Elma stood, hands folded in front of her, conscious of how cold her skin was. Everything was cold in the citadel, no matter how many fires burned in soot-blackened hearths. Drawing a shaky breath, she nodded curtly. “Send him in.”
Luca came in first, bowing low. A chain, delicate in his broad hands, dangled from his grip. And at the end of it was Rune, his wrists bound before him. His head was held high, despite his leash in Luca’s hand. He wore the black leather he had worn in the arena, though it had been cleaned and mended, and a tunic of the Volta colors, red and black, clung to his chest. A sword belt hung from his waist.
He looks good in my colors. Elma couldn’t help the thought that flitted through her mind, then tamped it down with impatience.
“Why is he bound?” she asked pointedly, addressing Luca.
“For Her Majesty’s safety,” said Luca.
“And how is he expected to protect me if he’s in chains?”
Luca colored slightly. “Your Majesty… please. Forgive my boldness, but this is a mistake. This man has no honor, no sense of morality. He’ll gut you the first chance he gets. And…” he swallowed, uneasy. “Have I not served you well, my queen? I have been at your side for so many years.”
Regret gnawed at Elma. She had known this would hurt Luca. “You’ve always kept me safe,” she said, softening. “And I know you will continue to prioritize my life, as you have since we were both children. But in a month, I’ll be crowned queen. I need more than just a retinue of guards. I need the most dangerous men in the north onmyside.”
The guard nodded stiffly.
“Luca,” Elma said, “I need you to trust me.”
The assassin glanced between them with sharp eyes. “I’m touched,” he said, holding up his hands. “Truly, a lovely moment of vulnerability between lifelong colleagues. Now, won’t someone deign to unchain me?”
“He’s an ass,” Luca said, with raised brows.
Elma closed her eyes for a long moment, gathering her patience. Whatever partnership this was going to be, it would not be easy. “I’m aware of that. Unbind him.”
Shaking his head with disapproval, Luca obeyed. He gathered the chain in a bundle and dropped a bow. “Your Majesty,” he said and left her there alone with Rune.
The two stood watching one another in silence, assessing. As if both were performing calculations, making lists, trying to sketch an image of a person who, until now, had existed only as some caricatured villain in their minds.
Elma noted that Rune was, for the first time since she’d met him, not covered in filth. His hair, somatted with blood and dirt before, now shone brightly in the firelight. It was cropped shorter than hers, barely brushing the nape of his neck and falling longer over his forehead. The bruises and cuts on his face were clean, and the swelling had faded — the citadel physicians had cared for him properly, as she’d ordered. His knuckles, though, were raw and red. A purple bruise still marred his eye. And that scar… it gave him a wild look, even dressed in her family’s colors.
“Youdolike looking at me, don’t you,” Rune said, shifting his weight.
Elma bristled. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was only wondering why you are so… short.”
His eyes widened for an instant, a breath of true surprise beneath that haughty veneer. “Short?” he said, placing a hand on his chest. “On the contrary, look atyou.” He eyed the length of her body, not bothering to hide a lustful smirk. “They say the Volta family descended from giants, and I’m starting to believe it.”
“You remind me of one of my great aunt’s little lapdogs,” Elma said, smiling a little. “It had the same hair.”
Rune took two long strides toward her, crossing the distance between them easily. He was so close all of a sudden, too close. He smelled of soap and leather. Elma froze, breath catching. Was he going to attack her?
“Look at me,” he said. “In the eye.”
Elma tilted her chin up, grudgingly, and met his gaze. His eyes were strikingly blue, like mountain waterfalls after a snap freeze.
A slow grin spread across his face. “Iamtaller than you.”
“You’ll address me as Your Majesty,” Elma said, backing away.
