Chapter 21
The halls of the Ruby Governor’s manor are exquisite.
Thick rugs in the deepest shades of red line the white marble floors of the entryway.
A giant golden chandelier is suspended overhead, the crystal and ruby droplets hanging from its arms refract the light and cast shimmering shadows across the oak walls.
Rollins’ guards stand at attention near the large doors that lead to the public receiving chamber—his own version of a throne room.
As anticipated, the soldiers strip Cal of his visible weapon upon entering.
The guard holds the captain’s emerald-hilted sword with extra care as if it might sprout fangs and bite him without notice.
They pay me little attention, never bothering to pat around my midsection to find the alloy blade I have concealed under my blouse.
Shadows dance at the edge of my vision, disappearing behind the thick drapes as quickly as they appeared. My magic hums, beckoning me to let it out to play.
“Well, well, well … look what the gods dragged in.”
A voice echoes in the empty corridor as a flash of red hair steps into view.
Russet eyes dance with practiced arrogance as the Ruby Region heir leans against the chamber doors.
He isn’t a large man, but his presence has taken up far too much room in the memories that have consumed me for more than a decade.
“Keiran,” I reply flatly, strength and determination filling my viridescent gaze.
“Is that any way to greet an old friend? I thought you’d be happy to see a handsome face after a week on the road with this brute!”
The governor’s son pushes off his perch and pulls me into a forced embrace.
I go rigid in his hold, air suddenly too thick to breathe easily.
The proximity of our shared titles has forced me to stomach being in his presence, but being touched by him is something else entirely.
Fiery power sparks under my skin as I wrench myself out of his grasp.
“What are you doing here?”
A foolish question on the surface, to not expect the heir to be in his own home, but Kieran has a penchant for being anywhere his father isn’t.
“Father called me home. He’s hoping we can squash this little crusade of yours here and save you the trip to Amale.”
Mocking and presumptuous, just like he’s always been. Just like he was that night all those years ago. He loops his arm through mine, tugging me against him. I’d love nothing more than to let my magic throw him across the room.
“Shall we?”
Kieran half-drags me through the open doors and into the chamber to face his father. From the corner of my eyes, I see a flash of pure, unadulterated fury in Cal’s eyes before a cold neutrality replaces it.
Governor Charles Rollins sits at the head of the room in an ornate golden chair that could very easily be mistaken for a throne.
The large crest of Gathe is inlaid in opal and rubies in the middle of the long oak table that separates us from the governor.
Servants flank the walls, all women and all dressed in revealing cropped tops and harem pants made of a deep red chiffon despite the chill of the late winter air, a public reminder of how women are treated under his rule.
“Captain Murphy. It’s an honor to finally meet you.” Rollins stands and motions for Cal to sit.
“Ivy. I trust you remember my son?” His words are as pointed as his piercing eyes. As if we haven’t known each other for a quarter of a century. As if his face didn’t haunt me for years. As if I could ever forget him. And the bastard knows it.
“Governor, always a pleasure.” The words are thick and full of forced saccharine, every lie a touch sweeter than the last. “Your home is as exquisite as ever.”
“It really is. If only Emerald could have such riches.” A sly smile crosses both of their faces as Kieran sits at his father’s right hand.
Arrogant assholes, both of them.
“You requested to see us, Governor?” Cal cuts through tension building rapidly in the room.
“I summoned her.” Disdain is thick in the governor's voice as he speaks. “But a respected military man such as yourself is always welcome in the home of a loyal Corinthian.”
“What can I do for you, Governor?” Both my patience and the leash I keep on my magic are wearing thinner by the second.
“Yes, well, I was hoping that we could discuss this little trip of yours. I hardly think the Ascension Vote is any place for a woman.” Rollins doesn’t even try to hide his condescending chuckle as he speaks.
“Regardless of my sex, sir, I am the heir to the Emerald Region and I speak on behalf of our governor, as demanded by the Corinthian constitution. The very constitution that you are sworn to uphold.”
“Well, that may be, but—” Rollins starts, but I don’t let him finish.
“Surely you don’t suggest that one of our jeweled regions should not have a vote in determining the next monarch?”
“That’s not—” Rollins presses on, but I have to squash this now.
“To do so would be to position oneself as a king. Are you claiming the throne for yourself without the proper vote, Governor? Because that would be treason. Would it not, Captain?” I snap my head to Cal indicating the necessity of his response.
“It would,” Cal replies.
Men like Rollins will only ever recognize the authority of another man, and as much as I hate to play that card, I know how to use all the weapons in my arsenal.
“Leave it to a woman to always jump straight to hysterics.” Rollins gives an exasperated shake of his head at Kieran who nods in return.
“Here I am, preparing to extend an invitation to be a guest in my home and she wants to accuse me of treason,” he scoffs loudly.
“If it wasn’t the Lord General’s request, I would see you out on your ungrateful ass. ”
“What did you say?” Surely I misheard his words. I cut my eyes to Cal, but if he’s surprised, his face doesn’t give it away.
“You’re familiar with Lord General Marks, aren’t you?” Kieran adds with a devious grin. “Who am I kidding? Of course you are, Poison Ivy.”
“The Lord General has honored us with a visit to Gathe. I am hosting a ball tonight to celebrate his illustriousness and, for some gods-unknown reason, he’s demanded that you attend.
I’ve had my staff prepare rooms since he’s so eager to see both you and Captain Murphy. We can’t risk you being late again.”
Marks is here.
My stomach bottoms out, my vision tunneling as I fight to stay upright. Chilled air nips at my skin but does little to cool the sweat that beads at the nape of my neck. But I will not show fear in the presence of men who already think me weak.
“Miriam can show you the way, Ivy,” Kieran’s voice snaps me back to attention. “Captain Murphy, I have something I need to discuss with you in private.”
No one misses the sharp glare the governor gives his son. As if it’s a meeting of usurpers plotting to overthrow their oppressive masters rather than Kieran trying to schmooze his way into the Lord General’s good graces through his trusted captain.
“Lord General Marks has instructed me to ensure Lady Ivy’s safety at all times. I will need to inspect her room first before our meeting, Lord Rollins.” The casual lie, spoken with commanding authority, falls from Cal’s lips.
“Do you question my trustworthiness in my own home, Captain?” Governor Rollins’ voice booms through the chamber as he rises to his feet at the insult.
“It’s not a matter of trust, Governor. It’s a matter of following orders.” Cal responds quickly, never missing a step in the dance.
Rollins sits again in a loud huff before dismissing us with a wave of his hand.
“Oh, Ivy,” Kieran calls out before we cross the threshold. “I’ve had the staff place suitable attire for tonight in your wardrobe. I am so looking forward to seeing you in red.”
My stomach lurches again at the thought of wearing his color. A noble woman wearing the color of another region indicates only one thing: her intention to take a seat within that house.
As the named heir, Kieran is his father’s successor and the governor has made no secret about his search for a suitable bride for his son. Wearing red would be tantamount to accepting a proposal.
Intentional or not, Kieran has just revealed the true meaning behind his father’s summons. The governor and Marks are planning to force me into an alliance I would rather die than agree to.
But if it’s a symbol they want tonight, it’s a symbol they’ll get.
Leave it to Rollins to ensure we have to walk four flights of stairs before we’re permitted to enjoy any level of comfort within his home.
“Shall I wait for you out here, Captain?” The servant asks sweetly once we finally arrive at my room.
“No, that won’t be necessary. I can find my way back.”
“Anna will be by this evening to help you dress, my lady.” She bobs into a curtsy and scurries away before I can ask her not to call me that.
I turn to find Cal finishing a military-level sweep of the palatial room before I can even get the door closed.
“Did you know?” If he did and didn’t prepare me…
“Of course I didn’t fucking know.” White-knuckled fists hang at his sides, his voice elevated and tense.
I approach him cautiously, careful not to corner him. His eyes bounce around the room, clearly not trusting his initial assessment.
“What does this mean, Cal?”
“It means that I have to play the dutiful, submissive captain while Marks tries to sell you off to Rollins. He’s going to publicly taunt you, degrade you, and treat you like something to be bargained with.
And I have to stand there and pretend like I don’t fucking care.
Like we’re not connected and like it’s not ripping me apart. ”
Anger that rivals my own stares back at me, but it’s the barest hint of liquid in the inner corner that stops me. The single tear threatening to break free from his steel-colored eyes communicating everything I need to know.