Chapter 20
It’s expected that I will be dressed in full regalia to meet the Ruby Governor. An elegant, emerald gown would symbolize my region, my status, and my sex. But Rollins disregarded decorum with his little summons, and I fight better in pants.
I step over the pile of broken wood that litters the floor, digging into my bag to locate a clean pair of brown leathers and a blouse of deep emerald green. There’s no mirror in the room, so I rely on muscle memory as I pull my wet hair up into a low, sleek chignon.
There’s a sobering sort of dread that’s gnawed at me ever since I opened my eyes this morning.
It disappeared briefly but came back in full force as I bathed alone in the hall chamber.
I try to tell myself that it’s only nerves about the impending encounter with Rollins, that it will go away as soon as I fulfill this farce of an invitation.
This room has been a sanctuary, a place where I allowed myself to give in to temptation and desire without thought or worry of the consequences. A place where everything about our dynamic changed. And I am entirely unprepared to face our new reality.
Cal steps into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist, skin still dripping from his bath.
Droplets refract in the sunlight pouring in from the small window causing the sea beast inked across his chest to glimmer as if it’s covered in iridescent scales.
The sight of the leviathan sends an errant chill down my spine.
“We don’t have to go, you know,” Cal says, never looking up from his bag.
“Of course we have to go. I don’t want to be in the Ruby Region any longer than we have to be, but refusing Rollins in his own home is an affront that we cannot afford.”
“We…” he stills.
“You’re my ally, aren’t you?” I backtrack, trying to cover the unintentional usage and implications of that particular pronoun.
“Ah.” Cal returns his focus to the bag, extracting leather pants and a fitted shirt in the same shade of deep obsidian. “In that case, Rollins is already our enemy. Marks already has his vote. What more could the governor do if we don’t show up?”
Cal makes a valid point. Rollins will never side with me at the Ascension Vote no matter who I put forth. In his opinion, Marks is the only one worthy of the crown, except for maybe himself.
“What if he’s trying to steal the vote from Marks?” I ask. “What if Rollins has summoned me to try to convince me to vote for him?”
“I’d say he’s wasting all of our fucking time.” Cal sits on the edge of the bed and begins lacing his boots. “But go on.”
“Think about it. The Emerald Region is geographically cut off from the rest of Corinth. We get plenty of imports from the sea, but all land shipments have to pass through Ruby.”
The people of my region would suffer exponentially without those goods.
“I know he’s a piece of shit, but do you think he’d really threaten trade agreements that have stood for hundreds of years?” Cal asks.
“I do. There’s only one other thing that could buy my vote and Rollins doesn’t have the balls to do it.”
My people are my duty, my responsibility. But the life of my father? That’s one chip I would never bargain with, and one that even a scum like Charles Rollins wouldn’t threaten.
“Whatever happens today, we will stop him. I won’t let Rollins take anything from you or your people.”
“I don’t need protection,” I remind him, the bite in my words mirroring the ice in my eyes.
“I know you don’t need it. Killing him would be for my own pleasure.”
Cal slips a single dagger into his armor’s hidden sheath that runs along his ribs. He extracts another from his bag, offering it to me by the intricately carved ivory handle. Strange markings scroll elegantly across the alloy blade, my fingers absently tracing them as he continues.
“My reputation will deter most of the guards from attacking, but they will underestimate you. You won’t expose your … power … to them, so you’ll need blades. I owe you at least three, by my count.”
“That was my favorite corset,” I sigh with a half-smile. I take the blade from his waiting hands, testing its weight and balance across my palm. “There’s always a few men who think they’ll die if they touch me.”
“They will.” Cal moves in front of me, lifting my chin until my eyes meet his. “If you don’t kill them, I will.”
Gods, that shouldn’t be so hot.
Power prickles my skin at the promise of death. Somewhere deep within me, the dark beast that forever craves decay opens one eye. The required balance for my life-giving earth magic smiles in the shadows.
Whatever happens today will be a test. A prerequisite for what awaits me—what awaits us—in Amale. My bones tingle at the thought of the unknown, something guaranteed to further propel our conjoined destiny.
Commotion outside pulls Cal to the window to investigate.
Rollins’ men, who have been stationed outside the inn since they delivered the correspondence just before dawn, are growing more restless by the minute.
Undoubtedly taking to policing the streets in their quest for something to occupy their time.
Cal sighs, dragging a hand through damp, onyx hair.
“I need to get down there and remind them who they’re dealing with,” he says with an exasperated head shake.
“They can’t know, Cal. If anyone gets even the slightest whiff that there’s…” I struggle for the right word to describe whatever is happening between us and come up short.
“They have rebuked my birthright, discounted my claim as heir my entire life. I cannot … I will not… give them any reason to further question my authority. You may not wish to see Marks on the throne, but the Captain of Corinth represents his interests. I will not be reduced to another one of the Lord General’s puppets. ”
Cal tries to conceal the wince on his face, quickly turning away from me as he straps the emerald-hilted broadsword across his back.
“The problem with puppets, princess, is that everyone thinks they know who’s pulling the strings.
Marks thinks he’s the ultimate master. A god who tames kings.
But even his power has limits and even a captain has to follow commands.
” He turns to face me again, piercing steel eyes pinning me in place.
“And despite what colors I wear or what allegiances I publicly swear, I will follow only your commands, my lady.”
Bending at the waist, the Captain of Corinth bows at my feet and disappears into the hallway.
The cobblestone street outside the inn is unnervingly quiet.
The menacing sight of a fully armed Captain of Corinth atop his gray mare is enough to cause the townsfolk to go out of their way to avoid his attention.
Every soul in this village knows the deadly man who sits in their midst. Those who didn’t see him ride in no doubt heard tales of his arrival throughout the evening.
Gasps fill the air around me as I exit the tavern. The unrecognizable, barely noticed commoner that accompanied the captain yesterday now has a face and a name. Chin up and shoulders back, I walk confidently towards my own readied horse, ignoring their shocked half-whispers.
“It’s her. It’s Poison Ivy.”
“She’s gods-cursed.”
They’re never as quiet as they think they are. Or maybe they just don’t care. It’s not like I’m human to them anyway.
Two red-coated soldiers flank either side of Cal, each atop a chestnut horse. The stoic mask of the captain is plastered on his face, the spark in his eyes noticeably absent when he looks at me.
It’s exactly what I asked, or rather commanded, from him. So why does it scrape at my heart like a blade across tender flesh?
“Governor Rollins has sent us an escort, Lady Ivy.” Disdain is thick in Cal’s voice as he looks between the inferior soldiers.
One of the soldiers scoffs as he assesses my approaching form. “Summoned hours ago and still can’t be bothered to put on a proper dress.”
“I didn’t realize Rollins allowed his men to openly mock the heir of a neighboring region.” The man pales at the timbre of Cal’s voice as a hint of black flashes in his eyes. “Perhaps I should have a talk with the governor about the insubordination in his ranks.”
The second man breaks into a coughing fit, trying to stifle his laughter at his companion’s discomfort. He looks as if he might soil himself under Cal’s domineering glare, the threat of violence lingering in the air around us.
“Our apologies, Captain.”
“Your scared apologies mean nothing.” Cal’s voice deepens, surpassing a threat and diving headfirst into a promise. “Show her the respect you show every other heir or you’ll be quickly reminded that she has an army who answers to her.”
The soldiers turn to face me fully now with a newfound reverence on their face.
I know it’s only there because they’re scared of the Captain of Corinth, and even though I’ve said time and time again that I don’t need his protection, I need this.
Every part of me loathes it, but this is the only currency that these men respect.
Until I wish to wield my magic, this is the only power I have.
“If you boys are done, I have business to attend to and men to poison.”
I mount my mare with a wide swing of my leg and immediately push her ahead into the heart of Gathe.
I don’t spare a look over my shoulder, but I don’t have to.
The disgust and fear that colors the villagers’ expressions tells me that they heard and that Cal follows my lead.
Two things that tug at my seams differently than they would have two days ago.
Power washes over me like a tranquil wave, gently eroding the jagged edges of my rage until I’m comfortably numb enough to walk into the den of the ruby-eyed lion.