Eidolon (Wraith Kings, #2)

by Grace Draven

“You’re either planning my seduction or my demise,” he said in a voice slurred by fatigue.

“I was just thinking you are far too handsome for your own good.” “It’s the scars,” he said. “They give me a certain air.”

She swatted him lightly on the arm before scampering away on a screech when he returned the gesture with a hand to her buttock.

Hehehe

“I will never deny you,” she whispered and nipped his earlobe. He shuddered in her arms. “Ask anything of me, and it’s yours.”

Brishen meshed his fingers with her and strode toward the doors, wearing a scowl he hoped deterred anyone from stopping him. Ildiko jogged behind him, laughing and admonishing him to slow down.

Ildiko was a feather in his embrace, and he tossed her high in the air. She screamed, not with fear but exhilaration. He caught her easily, snatching a quick kiss before spinning her away from him to her original place in the line.

“Do you love me, Ildiko?” He forced the words from a throat closed tight. She halted and gripped his hand harder, the crescents of her fingernails digging into his palm. “With everything I am, Brishen,” she said in a soft, fervent voice. “And for as long as I live. You must never doubt it.” He believed her, yet her words churned his stomach and hummed discordant in his spirit. She uttered them, not as if they were a declaration of devotion but one of farewell.

I’m afraid my first instinct is to try and talk Brishen out of this madness altogether. I understand what’s required. I hate it. And fear it.” The lines carved into the Elsod’s face softened. “You love him very much.” “He is everything to me.” And in the end, I must give him up. She inwardly recoiled from the thought.

“Privilege,” she said gently, “gives the crown its shine. Duty gives it its weight. It’s because you are now king that you can’t do as you wish. The person you are—honorable, brave—will do what’s required.”

“I will not give you up,” he vowed between clenched teeth. “I will suffer the ritual, gladly. Let it rip me apart and put me back together again. I will rob my people of their magic and fight the galla. I will not renounce my wife.” He shook against her, burying his face in her neck. “Don’t leave me, Ildiko,” he implored. “The burden is only bearable because you’re here.”

“Dark or not, you see me. From that first day in the gardens at Pricid—our wedding day—you’ve always seen me.”

“I would have been content to live my life as just Brishen,” he whispered into her hair. “Who was loved by Ildiko.”

Sobbbbinnggggg

“The Mollusk Queen who married the Eel King.”

“You left me too soon this morning,” she said. He straightened and pulled her against him. “Had I choice, I wouldn’t leave you at all.” His lips brushed hers. “Grow old with me,” he whispered.

Her fingers dug into the hard shell of his brigandine. “Come back to me and I will.” Queen or concubine, mistress or scullery maid, she’d somehow find the means to remain with him.

“Prince of night, come back and grow old with me.”

“Woman of day, you have made me formidable again,” he said. I would make you invincible if I could, she wanted to say. Instead, she smiled and bowed in return.

“Prince of night,” she said, and reached out to caress the air in front of him. “Welcome back.” His rigid stance eased a fraction, and he leaned toward her, yearning rippling in every slope and bend of muscle covered by leather and mail. A smile played across his mouth. “Woman of day,” he said, and the endearment held the worship of a supplicant before a beloved deity. “I’ve missed you.”

She was life and hope and strength, and he drew on all three as he bent his head to kiss her deeply.

For now though, he’d simply savor the feel of his wife against him, in the bed they shared, in the fortress he ruled, in a kingdom not yet perished.

“You’re a fine man, Brishen Khaskem.” “It’s hard work remaining worthy of you, Ildiko Khaskem.” “You’ve a velvet tongue.” “That’s what you said yesterday when I had my head between your—” She shushed him with a shocked laugh. “Stop that.” She turned for a final check in her mirror.

He straightened but continued stroking her shoulder. “I only have one regret,” he said. A faint frown line stitched her brow. “What’s that?” “I’ll never be able to call you Queen Ildiko. It has a nice ring to it.”

“No. Nothing so grand. I’m content to live my life as just Ildiko,” she said softly, repeating words similar to those he once whispered in her hair when he thought her asleep. “Who is loved by Brishen.”