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I grinned and adjusted my grip on the blade. “Step aside and let us spar.” “So long as we have an understanding. You, my two lovelies, do not take me at my cruel words.” “Hardly seems fair,” I said. “I am under your tutelage the same as everyone else.” “Ah.” His voice softened, so only I heard. “But they are not my future queen.”
“Hells, woman,” Valen muttered under his breath, drawing me into his side. “I have many plans to show you every improper thought rushing through my head the second we are alone. Prepare yourself.”
Once a shout from our walls roared to return fire, I shoved Tor away. “When I said I didn’t want Valen as my shield, I thought it was understood none of you are easily sacrificed, Torsten!” Such a rare thing, but Tor flashed a white smile. He tapped the end of his arrow, igniting the tip with his blue pyre fury, then pulled the string taut. “I think you like us, Elise Lysander.”
“You are brave, My Queen,” Sol whispered. “I am not a queen. I am your brother’s consort.” “For now.” Sol’s grin was as mischievous as Valen’s.
Sol was planning something, and he was coming for me. “My Queen,” he whispered. “Make the title official.” “What are you talking about?” Sol glanced at nearby Ravens, a touch of caution to his voice. “Your title is needed. I can’t explain more. Listen and repeat to Valen the things I’m about to say exactly as I say them. Tell Valen she is being used. Has been used all this time. Tell him to find her. Then, tell them to come home to visit me.”
“Go away,” I said to the others. “Rather unkingly of you,” Ari said. “You could dismiss us better. Perhaps, say: be gone with you. Or we may adjourn, or—” I pulled back from Elise to glare at Ari. “I could take your head if you prefer.” He blew out his lips but stood. “A pointless threat. You’ve grown too fond of me. I’ll say it again, Elise. You may still choose me.”
“Your future husband is crowding me, Elise.” “I am your king and want you to move,” Valen grumbled. “Today I serve the queen,” Mattis said, taking my hand. “By the hells, you’ll touch her in a few moments. I’m supposed to give her hand to you. Do it right, my impatient king, or do not do it.”
“You are beautiful.” Valen lifted my knuckles to his lips, eyes never leaving mine. “I have wanted this since I first met you, Elise Lysander.” “Liar.” “Ah, you want the truer, less romantic version. Fine. I have wanted this day since I realized the woman I was using to break a curse had stolen my heart, and I suddenly cared a great deal if she lived. Better?”
Klok faced me next. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t want to miss a word. “Elise, I have thought a great deal of what to say here. By your own word, you have denied any blood family—” “Daughter of Mara,” I whispered. “I am the daughter of Mara.”
Klok offered a toothy grin and looked to the crowd. “By the gods, I present King Valen Ferus and our new queen, Elise Lysander Ferus.” Klok leaned into me and whispered, “Now, My Queen. You may touch him now.”
Brutal. Kind. Fierce. Gentle. A collision of opposites made up Valen Ferus. It was no wonder I loved the man to the depths of my soul.
Halvar stood in the center, drinking horn raised. “To our king and new queen.” The people cheered, some drank to us, some began to dance again until Halvar held up a hand. “We have gifts. Of course, keep in mind we are in the middle of a war and live in a refuge. Imagine we are in the old courts and are showering you in fine things.”
“You stole them from a trader? Without being caught?” Axel’s face deepened with stark red. “Unfortunate, but the master who last owned them became quite ill that very night. I’m afraid he never saw the sunrise.” The room silenced for no more than three breaths. All at once deep, booming laughter shook the walls, and rattled the ale on the table. Casper, with his thick meaty hands gripped Axel’s shoulders, shaking him. “You bleeding sod. Poisoned him, did you?” Axel pinched his lips. “I admit nothing.”
Slowly, her lips teased the edge of my ear. She nipped at my neck, her hands roving across my chest and middle under the water. “Elise, I will drown if you keep doing that.”
“Valen, we are equals, right?” “Yes, but—” “Then why are you the one who takes all the risks while I keep our bed warm, tucked safely away in Ruskig?” “I recall you leaping off a cliff after crossing into a unit of Ravens not long ago.” She chuckled. “And did the risk pay off? I believe I came bearing messages from the Sun Prince.” “I could’ve done without the leaping off a cliff part.”
She smiled a violent sort. “Have more faith in my ability to draw blood, my love.”
“We are there,” I said. “As patrons, in the trees, under the beds, I don’t bleeding care. If anyone puts a hand on any of you, they die.” Her eyes brightened. “Agreed. But you must give us a chance to play the part. You cannot be cutting out eyes if a patron looks at me.” “I refuse to promise such a thing and reserve the right to take at least one eye as a warning.”
Tor crossed his arms over his chest. “And they simply believed you?” “I created a very convincing illusion of a documented noble line, thank you very much. Your tone of mistrust is rather irksome, Torsten. In need of a drink? A gentle embrace? Tell me how we can ease your frustration when it is I who have been traipsing across this gods-awful land arranging this game.” “We’re grateful,” I said, smirking. “Ari, you are magnanimous in your abilities, and we don’t deserve you.” “Thank you. I completely agree.”
“Through the blood of the heirs from the bond you shattered, will the tomb of fury reopen. On that day, one queen rises to end another, and at the fall of the second will your kingdom at last be.”
“He was once only loyal to my husband, not me.” The Nightrender narrowed his eyes. “Want me to make his fear reality? It would be over quickly.”
Brant took his sister’s hand. “Kari. If this night is my last, send my pyre to the sea. Know that you are stronger than me, and I am pleased for you to have found Hal. If you ever wondered if you had your brother’s blessing to make him an honest fae, you do.” “Brant, quiet,” Kari said, a slight tremble in her voice. “Agreed,” said Halvar. “No death talks until our innards are spilling out on the battlefield. It is more poetic and meaningful.”
