Chapter 42 #2
“I can’t let her be queen,” I say softly, imploring her to understand.
“She will be forced to fight on the front lines, leading armies. Everyone who dies from one of her orders will cut her to pieces, and any kids –” I swallow tightly.
“Any kids we have, she’ll die knowing they will fight to the death. ”
“So have just one.”
“It’s illegal for queens to use contraceptions.” We have to make sure the bloodline prevails. The last time there was a question about which heir to follow, Vyla was created.
Fabia lowers her sticks just slightly as irritation flows across her face. “Use it anyway.” She holds my gaze, that stupid fucking confidence back in her eyes. “And trust her to be queen.”
Wordlessly, I lunge forwards. She barely manages to block the strike at her side. She swings for me with her other stick, grunting, “Asshole,” beneath her breath as we trade blows back and forth.
I deliberately don’t do anything that’ll knock her off her feet. I want a continuous pace that’ll work the energy from my body, the thoughts from my head. But she moves too slowly to drown out the words that grow in volume.
Trust her to be queen.
Trust Arienna, a happiness-sex cult brownie, to rule over the vicious, cold Razians.
It’s suicidal.
Literally.
Fucking.
Suicidal.
For the both us. Because if I lose her like I have my sister, if I see her lifeless body…
Clenching my jaw, I strike harder, move faster. My feet dart forwards, pushing her back. Sweat beads on my brow, making my skin run cold. I raise my arm, aiming a blow to her face.
She stares up at me as she lies on the ground, her eyes fighting back her fear as she lifts her chin in defiance.
My brows pull tight as my eyes flicker left and right, looking for the sticks she’s been blocking me with.
Seeing her hands empty, I jerk my stick to the right, missing her head to graze her shoulder.
She hisses as she flinches. I drop my weapon as I crouch in front of her.
“Are you okay?”
“Do you fucking care?”
My jaw tightens. “You’re Arienna’s friend, and you’re a member of my guard. That means something.” Standing, I offer her a hand.
She breathes heavily, her lilac hair moving across her face with each puff of air. She stares up at me for a few heavy seconds before grasping my wrist and climbing to her feet.
“So who’d win between you and Jace?” she asks as she winces and hugs her side.
“Jace.” Turning, I head for the cabinet with the healing wand.
“That was a quick response.”
“It’s a quick spar when he wants it to be.”
Her mumbled, “Fuck,” has me smiling the littlest bit.
“It’s a gift of his, making people want to smack him upside the head.” Grabbing the wand, I head back to her. “If you want to get back at him, buy a cake for yourself and don’t share any.” I move the wand over her, healing the bruises and scrapes I gave her.
“Really?” she asks warily.
“Yes. Him and Nicholas are both suckers for cake.”
“Why would I care what Nicholas likes?” she asks way too defensively.
A smile tugs at my lips as I heal her bruised ribs. I shrug. “He’s my brother. I talk about him sometimes.”
“I’ve never heard you do so before.”
I glance up at her, my face blank of all humour. “Do you listen for his name?”
“Of course not.” She steps back, and I study the irritation in her eyes. Liar. If she comes to defend my brother with as much vigour as she does Arienna, I will love her for it.
Turning, I head back to the cabinet to deposit the wand.
“You’re not going to heal yourself?” she asks.
“No.” I hurt my queen; the few blows Fabia landed on me are justified. Figuring we’ve been here for about an hour, I head for the door, wanting to finally talk some sense into my queen.
A loud exhale sounds behind me as I step into the hall.
“You know I’m still going to support her being mad at you?” Fabia asks.
I look at Jace dryly as I walk past him. His eyes are on Fabia, checking her over. “Yes,” I say, my wings flickering behind me with the urge to fly, to get to my chambers, my queen faster.
But instead I walk, not quite ready to see the pain in her eyes again when she looks at me.
Trust her to be queen…
Fuck.
I should have flown.
And skipped making eggs.
Then Fabia wouldn’t have had time to talk to Arienna, and she wouldn’t be now barring my way, telling me my queen doesn’t want to see me.
“Stand aside.”
“No.”
“I made her breakfast.”
“It’s boiled eggs. That’s not cooking.”
The fuck it isn’t.
My fingers tighten on the bowl. “She’s my wife.”
“No, she isn’t. You made that clear. And it doesn’t matter if she was. She doesn’t want to see you. Or are you going to take that choice from her too?”
I glare at her.
She glares back.
I very briefly regret having healed her after our spar.
“Look,” Fabia says with a heavy exhale, “she’s never been hurt like this before. Give her some time to figure things out.”
A freezing chill washes through me. What if she figures out she doesn’t want to be with me? What if she realises Raza’s king is as fucked up as his kingdom?
Before I can think of something to say or do, a knock sounds at the main door. Jace’s voice drifts through the wood, punching me in the chest. “She’s here.”
Fuck. To make Evangeline wait will piss her off. And if she gets mad enough, she won’t hang around to hear me out. Although not even the Court can force me to marry her if she doesn’t want to, if I don’t give them this, then they will go after my queen.
“By the way, Your Majesty,” Petre says as I meet up with her before the vote, “Kiki’s execution is in nine days.
” The day right after Arienna’s coronation.
Kiki is being charged with treason for trying to kill me on our wedding day; her death will need to last at least two weeks.
My queen won’t survive that. And neither will I if I watch her. I swore I’d protect her from this life.
But now she’s more vulnerable without the crown to protect her. So if Evangeline turns me down and I make stronger enemies of the Court…
“Go.” Fabia inclines her head.
Shoving the bowl of eggs at her, I growl, “Make sure she eats.”
Locking my jaw, I force myself to walk away, leaving the only place I want to be.