Chapter 15 - Four
XV Four
The breakfast is served in a small hall downstairs, the tables bare with no cloths, their tops scratched and stained.
There are only benches to sit on. Magnar sits in the middle of a short table, waving me imperiously to a free space between him and Raduna as I enter with Khay.
I stand behind my seat, nervously gathering my skirts before I step over, when Khay lifts me from behind without warning. I sit, gasping from shock.
“That is so difficult to get used to,” I mutter, shaking my head.
Magnar grunts. “Warn the queen next time, Khay. She’s not a bag to throw around.”
“Yes, my king,” Khay says, shooting me an apologetic look from where he sits on the other side of Raduna.
“You’re no better, you know,” I grumble before I have time to think. I do that sometimes when I make the mistake of feeling too comfortable. Avinia did her utmost to try to break this habit of mine.
“Insolent Princesses can’t sit with polite company.”
Magnar laughs, his eyes glinting. “You are right, of course. How did you sleep, darling?”
It takes me a moment to accept I’m not going to be punished for speaking my mind, and another to remember what my goal is. Looking at Magnar’s silver eyes when they are so rivetingly focused on me is the most distracting thing. My thoughts take a moment to wrestle into submission.
“Fine, thank you. What did you do with my father’s remains?”
Magnar makes a sound of disgust, then clears his throat. I pour myself tea, waiting for his reply.
“That was abrupt. Well, I’m due to receive a report from Farneer today, so that’s when I’ll know for sure, but I left my governors with the orders to bury him in the royal crypt, and the priest who married us was to say whatever prayers are appropriate.
If you wish for your father to be buried in another manner, I can send a messenger right now with fresh orders.
They’ll dig him out and do with him as you please. ”
He cuts off a large piece of sausage after delivering his speech and starts chewing, watching me expectantly with his brows raised. I nod hesitantly, taken aback by Magnar’s readiness to mess with a buried body on my whim.
“Thank you, that’s not necessary. I’m glad he was buried properly.”
Well, it’s time. I should weep. Any moment now.
“He did die trying to kill you,” Magnar says in a reasonable tone of voice after swallowing his food.
“So if you’d rather he was buried under a ton of fresh manure, or dismembered, or maybe hung from the castle walls as a warning to everyone who wants to attack you, just say the word. I’ll be glad to oblige.”
Hysterical laughter bubbles in my chest as I imagine those options, and I stuff a piece of bun in my mouth to stop my giggles. Magnar doesn’t sound like he’s joking. If anything, his suggestions are delivered with a vicious sort of helpfulness.
“Respectfully, my king, the queen already said she’s happy with the burial you arranged,” Raduna speaks up, his voice reproachful. “Besides, hanging a decomposing body is much harder than a fresh one. I should know.”
I stuff more bun in my mouth, ridiculous mirth choking me. This entire conversation sounds like a morbid jest, and if they weren’t speaking about my father, who I still can’t bring myself to mourn, I’d howl with laughter.
Mad Princess is out to play.
“No, it’s not that hard if you stuff some fabric in your nose for the smell,” Arvi says, leaning in from the other side of Magnar.
I close my eyes, chewing studiously as my shoulders shake with suppressed laughter.
“And then you just wrap it all in a wire. I mean, the skin is slimy and putrid, so you gotta wash your hands after, but if you use enough wire, that corpse will hang nicely for weeks until birds peck off all the flesh. Oh, and you can give it a funny expression with the wire if you know how. It’s an art. ”
A heavy hand settles between my shoulder blades.
“The queen has a delicate stomach,” Raduna says with an exasperated sigh. “You should stop, Arvi.”
That’s when I give in. The last of my food swallowed, I bury my face in my hands and shake with snorts of laughter. Silence falls around me, Magnar and his knights probably staring. A giggle bursts forth, then another, and soon, I am howling as tears stream down my cheeks.
“You did it now,” Raduna says. “She’s crying because of your insensitive comments.”
I shake my head, lifting my face, and look at Arvi, who watches me with a mixture of chagrin and defiance from around stone-faced Magnar.
“Do you… only wash your hands…” I begin, unable to hold back hoots of laughter. “After you play… with cadavers?”
There’s a beat of silence, and then, our entire table bursts into laughter, Magnar and his knights snorting along with me.
I keep laughing until I can’t breathe, their laughter egging me on until I forget what started it.
Raduna’s hand is on my back, and Magnar’s head presses to the top of mine as he shakes against me.
It’s… I don’t think I can name it. I’ve never felt so… so included.
Like I have friends.
“Oh, fuck,” Khay snickers, wiping tears from his eyes. “Arvi, you nasty, dirty slug.”
And just like that, we’re off again, hooting all together while Magnar’s soldiers give us indulgent or baffled looks.
No one says I’m crazy for laughing at corpses.
No one scolds me or threatens me with the cellar.
My heart swells, and I put my hand on Magnar’s thigh, suppressing my final giggles while the others compose themselves, too.
My stomach hurts in the best possible way.
“Hey, I wash my hands often,” Arvi says, lifting his palms to show off how clean they are. His skin is dark gray, claws the longest and sharpest I’ve seen. “And I made the queen laugh unlike you sad fucks. I deserve a reward. Please, my lady, will you ride with me today?”
“You’re gonna poke her,” Khay says, at which everyone, me included, snorts with more laughter. “She’s better off with Raduna.”
I look at the gentle giant at my side, who suddenly hangs his head, his round cheeks darkening. He mumbles something, and Khay snorts.
“Louder, my friend.”
Raduna takes a deep breath and turns to me, seeming deeply embarrassed. “Since the queen promised to wear my underpants today, I’ve been quite… disorderly.”
“Disorderly? How many times did you wrestle the eel thinking about your pants on her shapely ass?” Khay asks with a snicker, at which Raduna’s blush grows much darker.
My cheeks heat, too. Shapely ass.
“What do eels have to do with anything?” I ask, inexplicably making them laugh again. Even Raduna chuckles, his embarrassment dissipating. He turns to me with an apologetic expression.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to refrain from poking you, my queen.”
I shake my head with irritation, because no one’s explained about the eels, and I feel left out after being gloriously included for a moment. It makes me speak carelessly again.
“Honestly, what is it with Agnidari men getting aroused while riding? It seems like quite a predicament, if you ask me.”
Raduna takes a deep breath, Magnar mutters something I can’t make out, and Khay and Arvi burst out into a fresh bout of snickers. I look around the table, waiting for an explanation until Magnar leans down and speaks quietly above my ear, his head as low as he can bring it.
“Darling, it’s not the riding that makes us horny, it’s you.
None of us have bedded a woman in years, and now we have you, and it’s killing us.
It doesn’t help that you’re so delicious.
So forgive us our predicaments. We’ll probably calm down after the wedding night. Well, the honeymoon, more likely.”
I fight my blush, though I’ve heard so many improper comments over the last few days, this one doesn’t stump me as much. But something in Magnar’s reply clamors for my attention until I finally pinpoint it.
“Wait. ‘We’?”
Magnar growls, looking up.
“Khay? You said you explained about the wedding night?”
Khay laughs uncomfortably, sounding sheepish. “Well, I was sort of building up to it. Leaving hints, and like… Trying not to scare her. You said it yourself, she’s afraid of our dicks. If she hears she might have to take four…”
The sound that falls out of my mouth is something akin to a sob, or maybe a giggle. Khay swears, and Magnar sighs in exasperation, the warm scent of cloves enveloping my face. He puts his arm around my shoulders and straightens as much as he can while holding me.
“Thank you, Khay. I think we’re all a bit crazy with lust these days, but your brain seems to be the most addled. Caliane, would you do me the honor of riding with me today? I’ll explain everything.”
There goes another day of trying to grieve, I think gloomily as I follow Magnar outside, dread and a sick sort of excitement curling in my belly. My steps fall into a hypnotizing rhythm that I can’t shake off.
Take four. Take four. Take four.
Horses wait in the courtyard, saddled and ready. Magnar stops in front of his mount and turns me until I face it, his hands on my waist.
“Oh, right. I’m going to lift you now.”
I am honestly surprised that he remembered my complaint. Magnar puts me in the saddle and heaves himself behind me, pressing me to him at once. I gasp when our bodies mold together, and he takes a deep breath, sighing with relief.
“Fuck, I missed you.”
I have no answer to this, my chest tightening with the familiar guilt layering on top of ridiculous longing. I forced myself not to think about the way he kissed me all day yesterday, and it frayed my nerves while also convincing me how horrid I am.
A proper princess would have loathed the kiss and him. I loved it.
As we cross the moat, it starts drizzling, the clouds heavy and uniform above us. Magnar sighs and leans over to a saddlebag, producing a cloak that he tucks in around me. It’s large enough to cover us both, the wide hood on his head.