Chapter Thirty-Eight
“WHAT’S THE COUNT OF COURTIERS WHO ARE IN residence at this moment in the palace?
” she asked Malachi, forcing the ice in her veins that had formed at his pitiless tone to thaw.
It had been an innate response born of the most primitive, ancient sense of self-preservation.
However, she didn’t have the time to let it linger.
She also knew the murderous quiet fury he’d slipped into wasn’t aimed at her.
It was aimed at their common enemy. And for Celestials’ sake, she hoped Rishaud was finally about to get his due.
Malachi’s gaze darkened. At first, she surmised he might shrug and remind her he cared nothing about the peacock nobles who usually preened around court.
But then she thought about how that response would’ve been completely off for Malachi—a male who insisted on dominating every situation, who measured and kept track of small and large threats with ruthless efficiency, and who despised being caught unaware.
So it was little surprise when Malachi told her, “There are exactly one hundred and twenty-five courtiers, fifty-two servants, eighty-one infirmary patients, eighteen healers, two hundred and twelve guards, and twenty-seven prisoners in the palace at this moment. If you’re asking about how many I give a fuck about protecting, the number is four hundred and eighty-eight.
The prisoners are the latest Niyarre and Tareek batches being interrogated and they can rot. ”
“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” Shionne drawled.
Seriously? Kadeesha thought. How can she be joking at a time like this?
Because she’s not joking, she realized. This was Malachi restrained, and there was still a bad side she had yet to see.
At first, she figured it was this thought that made her shiver.
But then she realized cool air was brushing against her shins.
Kadeesha looked down to see shadows swirling around her legs and floating upward.
They settled around her from neck to thighs, draping themselves over her as if she wore a robe spun of void magic.
Which, she guessed she did at the moment.
Malachi, whom she now stood beside, shot a pointed look at the covering he’d offered so she didn’t need to waste time hunting for clothing right then. “You’re welcome.”
If they were in a less perilous situation, she would’ve informed her arrogant husband that she hadn’t expressed any thanks. “Samira and Zayvier are among those infirmary patients,” she said instead. “The two of them and all the other civilians need to be evacuated in case—”
“That fucking outcome is not happening.” Again, the ground shook from the force of Malachi’s voice.
The innate sense of self-preservation hissed at her to tread carefully …
which she ignored because Malachi and his usual dominance crap could kiss her ass.
The risk at hand was the only thing that mattered.
“If the palace finds itself under a true siege and falls to Rishaud and his forces, then nearly three hundred innocent people will assuredly be slaughtered. That’s how Rishaud operates.
” She’d seen it with her own court. “As the first order of business, we need to get them out of the palace before Rishaud arrives,” she stressed to Malachi.
The shadows around the room and those covering her body grew inkier and more glacial with every fresh mention of the Hyperion king.
“That is not our first order of business, wife, if we’re under siege.
” He sank enough annoyance into the word to make it clear how incensed he was that Rishaud had beat him to leveling that particular strike.
“Is the rest of the Cadre already marshaling our troops?” he asked Shionne.
“I want them in formation just outside the portcullis and ready to meet Rishaud’s army when they arrive. ”
Shionne raked a hand through her slender braids. “Don’t insult me or our brethren with that question.”
The left corner of Malachi’s mouth quirked upward in a smile.
“I figured they were dispatching orders as we speak. I was only providing a demonstration to our queen.” He angled toward Kadeesha and imparted, “Readying your assault is always a monarch’s first order of business.
If we and our army fall, then there is nobody left to protect the larger court. ”
She raised her chin and stabbed him with a glower.
They had a lot of disparate ideas they would need to work out so they didn’t kill each other since they’d decided to stay married and bring a child into this realm together.
“If you have no faefolk left behind because you didn’t make securing their safety a priority, then you ultimately will end up fighting for literally nothing and nobody, husband. ”
He studied her for a moment, still nude, and then inclined his head toward her.
“I did vow to work at compromising,” he muttered.
Then, he told his cousin, “The first thing you do is ward the interior of the palace against teleportation, so any enemy who slips past the gates needs to navigate through the palace via a much slower and exposed route on foot and can be more easily intercepted. After that is done, carry out our queen’s wishes.
Gather a contingent of guards, round up all the civilians, and use the tunnels beneath the palace to lead them to safety.
Don’t tell anyone in your party where you’re going beforehand,” Malachi warned, “in case—”
“You don’t need to waste time by relaying the rest,” Trystin said dryly. “I remember Nychelle’s orders from the last go-round.”
The last go-round. He was talking about when Rishaud had instigated the uprising and massacre that killed Malachi’s parents and everyone else in their inner circle except Nychelle.
Trystin’s mention of the Cleric’s Rebellion plainly changed something within Malachi because he held his cousin’s stare with more gravity.
The cocksure arrogance was gone from his tone when he impressed his orders upon his cousin, who was the duke prime and second in line for the Apollyon throne.
“Get everyone to the same location Nychelle gave you back then. Your orders remain the same too. If I don’t make it …
” He paused to slice a look at Kadeesha.
“If we don’t rip that fucker limb from limb, then you pick up the mantle of Apollyon king, protect what’s ours, and rebuild.
The Apollyonfolk created a flourishing court out of the bare minimum once before.
We have our ancestors’ blood, pure ingenuity, and resilience.
You and the rest of the court can do so again.
Do not, ever, kneel to Rishaud nor any other monarch who is not of Apollyon blood by either birth or marriage. ”
“I really wish you’d put on some clothes or wrap shadows around your waist, for skies’ sake,” Trystin muttered. Then, he stepped closer to Malachi. He reached forward as Malachi did at the same time. The cousins seized each other’s forearms and clasped them.
Malachi grinned. “Now do you want to hug?”
“Absolutely not,” Trystin said succinctly.
“I’ll hug you when I see you next. So put that huge-ass ego of yours back on, cousin, and don’t bloody damn die.
If you do, I will find a rune capable of snatching your soul away from Nyaxia and depositing you back among the realm of the living just so I can kick your ass for being a prick and leaving me with the burden of ruling. Got it?”
Malachi snorted. “Even if I were the reanimated dead, you’d never kick my ass, cousin.”
Shionne, who was leaning against the open door’s frame, placed a hand over her heart. “That’s how they’ve said I love you since they were like five,” she told Kadeesha. “Aren’t they adorable?”
Adorable was certainly one word to describe the dynamics between Malachi and the cousin he actually liked. She recalled him and Nychelle both mentioning how they had been raised like brothers. Pitying Nychelle, she internally winced at the absolute pains they certainly had been growing up.
After Trystin departed, she returned to her own room to dress quickly in flying leathers and then notify her Nkita of Rishaud’s imminent assault.
While the majority of her sisters hurried to fetch the kongamatos from the aerie, she and Leisha joined Malachi, Nychelle, and his Cadre for a strategy meeting in the war room.
“You never mentioned if any of the vassal kings were spotted among Rishaud’s forces,” Kadeesha inquired of Shionne as soon as she arrived.
She should’ve asked the question back in Malachi’s room.
Now that the initial shock of an early assault had worn off, she was thinking more clearly.
More like the general of a squadron. More like the high queen she’d become.
“That’s because none were spotted,” Shionne answered tightly from where she stood on the opposite edge of the war table.
Dedrick, Kiyun, and Jakobi all stood beside her clothed in the same fighting leathers that were a merciless black.
Malachi, who stood to Kadeesha’s right, wore them too, along with ceremonial war regalia.
A metal breastplate that also gleamed black was locked into place over his chest. The coat of arms of the Apollyon Court—a silver crescent moon with a silver star cradled inside it—was emblazoned in its center.
Ornate silver trimmings framed the moon and star.
His shin and arm guards matched the breastplate.
Plus, the dazzling platinum grille flashed every time he spoke, nearly blinding Kadeesha.
He’d tried to insist she don the same ceremonial armor that would mark her as his fearsome counterpart and the Apollyon queen—a warrior queen, as he’d said—but if she was fighting this battle, then she’d do this one thing the Aether way.
Once she mounted Zahzah for flight, the armor would only be a nuisance.