Chapter 34 Brothers
XXXIV Brothers
“Can she pour tea?” she asks without looking at me.
Her accent is stronger than Magnar’s, but her words are clear.
Without waiting for his reply, she continues, “Let her pour me a cup, four sugars, and I’ll take those liquor cakes Allundar makes for me.
Knight, run to the kitchens. You go back to work, son. ”
“I need Caliane’s help with…” Magnar begins, but I take his hand and smile.
“I’ll have tea with your mother, then come back. It’s quite all right.”
The old crone hisses from her pile of blankets. “Is that how you let the human speak to you? Tsk, tsk. The males of my times were much tougher.”
Magnar snorts and gives her a fond look. “No, they weren’t. My father danced hoops around your little finger, and you know it. I’m a slave to my wife, just like him. Treat her well.”
“Slave to a human!” She spits on the floor next to her armchair, and I smile at Magnar to reassure him.
“Go,” I mouth, and he nods reluctantly.
But when his mother looks up, he palms the back of my head and tilts it roughly, leaning down to give me a hard kiss. Barely do I return it when he steps away, shooting his mother a cutting look.
“Harad ash ta kahna,” he says, and it sounds like a warning.
She bursts into an elderly, wheezing laughter. “Save that for those prissy little kings up north. I won’t hurt your human girl. Now leave us. You go, too, knight. Post someone in front of the door if you must. I won’t slaughter the tiny thing.”
Magnar nods at Arvi, and they both leave, throwing me unnerved looks. I smile and sit down on a beautiful, dark wood ottoman opposite the queen without waiting for an invitation.
“What’s your name, Your Majesty?” I ask. “Unless you’d like me to call you ‘Mother’.”
“What even!” she exclaims, throwing her skeletal hand. “Audacious girl. I am Idrina. Hasn’t Magnar told you?”
“I haven’t asked,” I admit, suppressing my guilt and an urge to apologize. Bold as brass. Honest to a fault. That’s what she’ll like. “Which is entirely my fault, of course. I have been preoccupied being forced into marriage to someone I used to believe was a monster, you see.”
“Magnar’s far more civilized than all human scum combined.”
She spits again. I notice the carpet is uneven and pockmarked in that area. It must be her habit, then.
“I admire him greatly,” I say with a smile.
The door opens, and Arvi comes in, bearing a tray. He puts it on the table and leaves, throwing me a nervous look.
“Three knights, and they probably hover over you like hens over newly hatched chickens,” she says when the door closes, and I pour the tea, putting sugar in hers. “I had one knight, and it was enough, but of course, a warring king must have more. Did you fuck them yet?”
I choke on my tea, and the old crone sits back with her cup, watching me with satisfaction until I stop coughing. She clicks her tongue, shaking her head.
“Delicate, are you? I assume you didn’t, then. What a waste.”
“I did, as a matter of fact. All of them.”
Her pleased smile shrinks, and she peers at me as if searching for a lie. In the end, she drinks her tea with a harrumph.
“Are you pregnant yet?” she asks when I hand her a small plate with a few tiny cakes covered in chocolate.
This time, I’m ready. “It’s too early to tell. We’ve only just married.”
“But you traveled here for a fortnight,” she says, her eyes narrowed. “I knew I was pregnant exactly within two weeks of marrying Hrognar.”
I can’t keep my cheeks from heating, and Idrina doesn’t miss it. Her mouth twists in disapproval.
“Magnar offered to wait until we came to Roharra,” I force out, refusing to explain further.
“An Agnidari wife wouldn’t have made her king wait,” she scoffs, then puts a cake in her mouth and chews, watching me with hostility. “That’s what comes from marrying a human. I told him. He should have listened.”
She sticks her verbal pins right where it hurts, one after another. I take a cake to have an excuse for my silence while I war with my feelings, reminding myself over and over this old woman wants to rile me up.
Oh, it’s working, but I won’t let her win.
“I believe you are right,” I say with false cheer. “After all, I’m quite useless outside the bedroom, am I not? I can’t even speak your language. I’d love to learn, though.”
She lets her plate clatter onto the table and leans back, folding her palms on the blankets covering her stomach.
“Why did you stay to speak with me? And don’t say to be polite, or I’ll throw you out.”
I allow myself a small laugh, imagining this old, frail woman trying to make me leave her room. Oh, she wants me to think she’s scary and mean, but in fact, she’s just a weak elderly lady who’s bitter and lonely.
“Because I’m human. You despise me, and I imagine all of Roharra does, too. Even if marrying me gave Magnar a seat at the Table of Kings, I am still a liability in his own country. If I want to become an asset, I must learn, and who better to teach me than another queen?”
The old woman hums, studying me closely. I reach for another cake. My hands don’t shake, but they will soon. This conversation has utterly drained me.
“How do you intend to win me over so I help you?” she finally asks, taking a sip of her tea.
“I already did. When you first spoke to me in the language of the Eleven, I knew I had you. So? Will you teach me?”
She cackles, and I wince, doing my best not to cover my ears as she screeches from mirth, rocking back and forth. For the first time, I see inside her mouth. She’s still got most of her teeth. They are old and yellow, still sharp. Utterly terrifying.
I help myself to another cake, and she finally stops, wiping her eyes with the back of a wrinkled hand.
“How old were you when you had Magnar?” I ask, emboldened. If she laughed, that means she’s entertained. She’ll want to see me again.
“I was fifty-six. If Hrognar married me earlier, we would have had more children. Do you know why he waited?”
I shake my head. She grins menacingly, her silver eyes flashing. I realize Magnar must take after her, and wonder what the old king looked like.
“Because he was in love with another woman, but she was barren,” Idrina says with a shockingly pleased smile.
“He was with her right until the day his father died, leaving him the throne, and not a day more. Hrognar knew his duty, he knew he must have heirs, and I’d been betrothed to him for twenty years at that point. ”
I suck in a shocked breath. “You waited for him for twenty years?”
She shakes her head with a scoff. “No, silly girl. I waited for the crown. And I got it until the old fool went and died, and Magnar became king. Foolish boy. I told him again and again not to bother with human princesses. Give him another ten years, and he’ll hold all of the Eleven.
He doesn’t need you. But of course, he thinks he knows better. ”
I think back to my bedroom, how cozy and serene it is, how cheerful. Despite Khay’s prediction that Magnar can’t hold back from the war, I think he might not want to fight anymore. At least, I hope.
Idrina purses her lips and looks away, finally heaving a sigh. She points at the fireplace.
“Hadratek,” she says with a harsh accent. “Repeat.”
I do, and she makes me say it again a few times before she’s satisfied.
“That’s fireplace. ‘Hadra’ means fire. Repeat.”
She teaches me Agnidari words for the next half an hour, then chases me off with a bid to return the next morning.
“May I use your study?” I remember to ask, my hand on the door knob.
“All that’s mine is in this room, the rest belongs to the queen,” she grumbles, which I take for a yes.
I gladly make my escape, bumping into Arvi, who’s anxiously pacing by the door outside.
“Are you all right?” he asks, taking my face in his palms. “Was she vicious?”
I wrap my arms around his middle, pressing my face into his chest. Tension pours out of me as he holds me close, stroking my head and back until I feel strong enough to face the rest of my day.
“She was exhausting. I’ll see her again tomorrow,” I say with a tired smile. “Come. I want to tackle that letter.”
He picks me up without warning, cradling me in his arms, and I shake my head. “My legs aren’t tired, Arvi. I just spent the hour sitting.”
“Mhm. I’m helping you preserve your strength, because Magnar can only last so long before he rips this dress off you. It’s fucking delicious, laruna. I’d do it myself, but… Oh well. Another time.”
I put my arms around his neck and lean in as close to his face as I can, trying to level him with a stern look.
“Arvi. What aren’t you telling me?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t—unless I want to say goodbye to my balls. You’ll figure it out. I’ve been dropping hints like crazy.”
“Arvi!”
“Shh. Not a peep now.”
We stop in front of the black door—Magnar’s study. It’s slightly ajar, and I hear muffled thuds and heavy breathing from inside. I frown, and Arvi lets me to my feet, pressing his finger to his lips. He pushes the door gently, and we stand in the threshold.
“Fuck you for making her love you first!” Magnar bellows, driving a fist into Khay’s cheek.
Arvi covers my mouth just in time to muffle my gasp of shock. Both men are shirtless, their gray skin glistening with sweat. Their feet are bare, and the rectangular carpet has been moved to the clearest area of the room. That’s where they both stand.
“It’s not my fault you couldn’t handle it, brother,” Khay says, spitting out blood. “Come on. Is this all you’ve got?”
I make to walk in and stop this madness, but Arvi’s ready for it. His free arm snakes around my ribs, and he holds me tightly, still pressing his hand to my mouth. I try to wrestle free, but it’s no use.
Magnar swings at Khay again, but the knight ducks left, whirling out of the way. His feet stay firmly on the black carpet, and when Magnar charges him with a bull-like bellow, Khay dances away, not stepping off.