Chapter 3 #2
“It’s a warning. We are in a dangerous place. There’s a reason even the principals do not come here. Not anymore.”
“And yet, you are here.”
Ahead, Carus yawned. “Not much choice when you don’t want to be skewered, or burned alive, or eaten up by an endless night. Though,” he glanced back at her, expression thoughtful, “I suppose you can probably do at least two of those things.”
“Did I make myself clear about running?” Morgen pushed, ignoring Carus.
She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “Quite.” Then, quieter, she added, “Why am I here, Morgen?”
He didn’t reply, and she cursed herself for expecting him to just be honest with her. She didn’t want to accept that the years between them were just a falsity and a clever ploy on his end, but that kind of ignorant thinking had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
The narrow, damp tunnel soon opened into a large cavern that appeared to be functioning as some sort of mess hall.
Nya stiffened, her steps slowing as she saw the sheer number of mortals, demi-gods, and godlings gathered there, eating and drinking at rows of roughly hewn wooden tables that lined the floor.
There were…so many. They were all wearing variations of leather or metal armor, and weapons seemed to be in abundance as well, slung over their backs or lying atop the tables next to their plates of food.
Even from a distance, it wasn’t difficult to notice most were physically strong.
She might have been sheltered from the realities of war, but not so much that she couldn’t recognize this for what it was.
An army.
Heads turned their way within seconds, and a hush fell over the expansive space, only broken by the occasional dripping of water from stalactites above and a few waves of low whispers across the long tables.
As eyes slipped over her, a tremble ran up her spine, and she curled her hands into tight fists to keep her body from shaking too visibly.
Some of them merely looked curious, but others—mostly the men—were already exchanging obviously interested glances and grinning at each other.
Morgen sighed, rolling his jaw. “As you were,” he said, raising his voice as he swept his gaze around the room.
Throats cleared, and for a moment, the entire room relaxed, everyone tucking back into their drinks and settling once more against the benches.
“But be aware.” Morgen paused, sweeping his burning amber eyes over the entirety of the room. “If anyone decides to try and lay a finger on my betrothed, I will take your hand. If, of course, I’m feeling forgiving. If not…” He shrugged. “Well, you know me. Dislocating a spine will do on most days.”
Nya’s breath caught loudly before she could stop it, and not from the threat of violence he had just promised.
Betrothed.
Her mind emptied out. The tense silence turned into a roar in her ears, and she could not stop herself from looking at Morgen with wide eyes.
Why would he want to marry her? Why now, when for all the years they met in the vast, empty forests in Mise, he had been so insistent on not touching her? Until he had, and she’d left without a trace. He hadn’t sought her out, not after what had happened, what they had both realized that day.
Perhaps that was it, though. He knew who she was: the daughter of two heirs to principal gods. Seeing the army before her, it suddenly clicked, what he wanted.
In all technicality, as Kronos’ only living child, the throne of Arcadia was his birthright.
The room fell into a tense silence for a moment, and then Carus bellowed, “You heard your king! Leave the girl alone, and get on with your night. Fates! You’d think he just threatened to de-spine you or something.”
It took half a second before chuckles began to drift around the room, and then everyone was roaring with laughter and banging their mugs on the tables.
Her stomach turned as she stared at the sudden shift in mood.
These soldiers might fear Morgen to an extent, but they quite obviously also respected him.
This wasn’t an army created with threats or even payment. They were here out of choice.
“What?” Morgen said, leaning down to her. “Did you expect them to be afraid of me? You might not believe me, but I don’t make a habit of threatening them unless necessary.”
She stepped away from him. Fates damn her for being so short and him so tall. “Who are they?”
“Demi-gods and their children, mostly, and a handful of mortals and godlings.”
“I can see that.”
He snorted, his head tilting to the side. His hair had come loose, the deep-red strands now falling down his back, and since they had walked into the cavern, he had visibly started to relax. Not wholly, but she knew his tells well enough to know he wasn’t about to snap anymore.
“They support my claim,” he told her. “Arcadia currently has no official king, so it’s only a matter of time.”
“But I thought Sol—”
“Is not a particularly popular choice here, as you will soon discover. None of the other principals have even attempted to step up, though.”
Nya scowled. “Have you ever considered that perhaps a monarchy is not the answer? I thought you hated Kronos.”
“I do. But you’re preaching to the wrong crowd when it comes to the way Arcadia’s government should be structured,” he said, brow furrowing as he looked at her intently. “You need to bathe. You’re covered in blood and dust, and I’d prefer you not to be so haggard during our wedding.”
“You’re delusional,” she snapped, earning a few looks from the crowd just beyond them. “I’m not marrying someone like you. Not now, not ever.”
He dipped his head once more, nose-to-nose with her as he said, “Someone ‘like me’? And what am I, Nya?”
“A monster,” she hissed, a wave of burning darkness rising in her throat.
He chuckled darkly, though his smile was empty and cold. “I know what I am. At least I don’t try to deny it to myself. I think if you knew what was at stake here, you might be a bit more willing.”
“Morgen.” Carus stepped between them, his back to her. “Perhaps we should take this little lovers’ spat somewhere…not here? Someplace more private, don’t you think?”
Nya flared her nostrils, looking between the two of them. “We are not lovers. And there is no fucking way I am marrying a demi-god who thinks he’s king just because he has the right blood and a few armed friends in a volcano.”
Incorrect, and also incorrect. Or am I to really believe you forgot what we did?
She flushed, and she hated herself for it, though she hated him more for bringing it up.
When Carus cocked his head to the side, an obvious request to follow, she didn’t hesitate this time, if only to get some distance from Morgen.
Even so, he followed a few paces behind.
Perhaps he had seen the looks on the faces of the men they were leaving behind in the mess hall.
She didn’t understand why he cared, given he was the one who had just kidnapped her.
Neither he nor Carus spoke as she was led into another tunnel that branched off from the mess hall cavern, this one dryer and wider than the one at the entrance.
The light was dim, illuminated by burning torches mounted every few paces on the stone walls, and the floor was a mix of packed dirt and stones.
Both the walls and floor sparkled strangely, perhaps with some mineral or geode.
They hadn’t been walking for long when Carus turned abruptly to the left, leading her into a warm, slightly humid cavern, though this one was much smaller than the mess hall.
In the center lay a pool, the water a deep shade of turquoise from whatever sediment lay within it.
A young woman with short, dark hair and a sharp, pale face was sitting against the wall, cross-legged and reading a leather-bound book. She hardly looked up when they entered.
“This is her, I presume?” she drawled, her voice low and flat.
Carus coughed, shifting on his booted feet, but Nya caught the small, incredulous smile he tried and failed to suppress at the woman’s demeanor.
Perhaps they were friends. Nya could not imagine having more than one.
It had always just been her parents and then, eventually, Morgen.
There was a reason she had always dreamed of having a large family, even if such a thing was foolish.
She supposed it did not matter now, just like any other dreams of the future she’d had before today.
“Nya, this is Imeria,” Carus said, gesturing at the woman. “She’ll help you get ready.”
“I am perfectly capable of bathing myself, and I do not need to get ready for anything,” she snarked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Carus glanced at Morgen but he was already looking at her, jaw set. In the corner, Imeria snorted softly, but no one acknowledged it.
“What you saw in the mess hall just now,” Morgen said with a deadly softness, “is barely a quarter of our forces. Perhaps you think them fools, but all of them possess magic and are viciously trained. I am not above sending them to the Elysian Valley, where most of the principals—including your grandparents—play house. But I’d prefer to try other tactics first. Think what you want about me, but I would prefer not to incite violence unless necessary. ”
She held his gaze. Veins of amber-gold flared as she asked, “How does marrying me help you with that?”
“You’re not stupid, Nya. I’m sure you’ve already figured it out.”
Her jaw trembled, but she ground her teeth to still it. “You’re using me as a bargaining chip…perhaps even a way to strengthen your claim too, given who my parents are.”
Morgen’s lips twitched, but he only said, “I’ll let you bathe.”
He turned to leave, but his steps faltered as she called, “Do you think you’re better than him just because you won’t kill without reason?”
He said nothing, and even as her stomach twisted with the words, she added bitterly, “Using me like this…presuming you have the ability to own me—it makes you just as corrupt.”