Chapter XXII Knob #2
Magnar’s face softens, and he smiles. “I’ll sleep when we get home. But darling, I thought you were going to protest our treatment of your neighbor. Don’t you think it’s barbaric?”
I frown and look over my shoulder. The prince’s eyes are on me, big with fear, glistening from tears. I hum in thought, turning to Magnar.
“What’s barbaric is trying to marry a woman who already has a husband,” I reply softly. “I’m sure whatever punishment you have in mind will be suitable for that offense.”
The Agnidari king stares at me, his silver eyes unreadable, until he shakes his head with a small huff.
“How are you so perfect, my queen?”
Before I have time to respond, he leans down, his entire body folding to reach me, and lifts my chin. His lips press to mine in a sweet kiss, and I rise on my toes to return the kiss, my fingers tangling in his braided hair.
Behind us, there is a muffled sound. The prince screams into his gag.
I imagine he must find it disgusting, but I don’t care. Magnar is my husband, and he killed my father. I no longer try to mourn. All I feel is gratitude.
We pull away from each other, Magnar’s eyes darker than just a moment before, his pupils wider. He gives me a long, intense look, as if trying to remember my face, and pulls me into his arms, inhaling deeply.
“Two more days,” he murmurs. “Just two more days.”
Over breakfast, I find out the woman who led me into the trap had been forced by the Unmentionable. He threatened to hurt her little daughter, and the woman, terrified, did everything he asked. Magnar let her go after she told him what she knew.
“This isn’t over,” he says, buttering wonderfully smelling fire-toasted bread for me. “We’ll ride in a tight formation, no more stops in towns, and when we’re not riding, it’s double guard for the queen.”
The knights salute, and I take the toast from Magnar. He has spread on it a generous amount of raspberry marmalade.
After Arvi puts me in the saddle of his horse, I watch as Magnar leads the Serillan prince by the rope, his hands tied together in front of him, legs now unbound. Arvi snickers when Magnar secures the rope to his saddle.
“It was my idea,” he says, a dark edge to his voice. “We didn’t want to damage him too badly, you understand. Once the pampered little shit does some running, though, it should loosen his tongue. Oh, I can’t wait until his legs give out. Getting dragged while naked is the worst.”
I want to ask how he knows this but I bite my tongue, because I have my suspicions. I wait for horror or outrage to tighten my chest, but nothing of the sort happens. I don’t feel any sympathy toward the prince, the memory of being dragged away to marry him bitter on my tongue.
“Am I bad?” I ask softly, not sure if I’m asking Arvi or myself. “For not caring what you do with him?”
“No. The king has just decreed you perfect,” Arvi answers, his voice serious. “So that’s what you are, laruna. Forgive me when I get hard, hm? I can control myself most of the time, but I might slip.”
I nod, trying not to think about it. It’s weird. I could accept my husband’s and knights’ lust when I thought it was due to the stimulation of riding, and then again, when I thought it was because they haven’t bedded anyone in years. Raduna’s explanation from last night sits heavy in my chest.
It’s you I want.
I’d like nothing better than to ask how that’s possible. There’s little to want about me, I suppose. Maybe they lust after me because I am the queen? Is it the title they revere and crave? It makes sense.
The final stretch of the journey is grueling.
We barely stop and ride late into the night under the cool light of two moons.
My knights are reticent and focused as I ride first with Arvi, then with Khay.
Everyone feels the strain of the looming danger, which is doubly hard because the Agnidari expected to be safe once in Roharra.
But the prince broke after barely an hour of running after Magnar’s horse and revealed everything he knows. It chills the skin on my nape once I hear about it.
“We knew the remaining members of the Table of Kings plotted against us,” Magnar says with a tired sigh.
We’re having an evening meal in the hall of a military castle that’s a half day’s journey away from the capital.
“But he said there are traitors in the capital. Agnidari working against us, feeding information to the Table of Kings. The princeling doesn’t know who they are, but we’ll sniff them out. We’ll have to stay sharp even at the keep.”
“We’ll take a sizable guard when we ride to take your seat,” Raduna rumbles between quick bites of food. “They may try to assassinate you on the way.”
“And steal Caliane,” Khay mutters darkly, throwing an ugly look at the Serillan prince, who’s lying on the floor in the hall’s corner, a bowl of food by his side.
I frown. “What? I’m coming with you?”
“Of course you are,” Magnar says. “Did you think we’d leave you behind at the keep? Darling, you go where we go. I’d worry myself sick if you weren’t by my side.”
“Oh.”
He strokes my hair and goes back to eating. The Agnidari wolf down massive amounts of food before we go to bed. I fall asleep with Khay and Arvi flanking me in bed, and wake up with Arvi and Raduna while Khay stands guard.
“Finally,” he says with a bright grin. “No breakfast today. If we leave at first light, we’ll eat at the keep at noon. Come on up, little diamond. It’s your Agnidari wedding day!”