Chapter 1 The Voiceless King #2
Teeth clenched, I pressed forward until we reached a small stone circle in the center of the garden. Here, Oline would gossip and chatter with courtiers, drinking wine and allowing young ones to play.
“Maj!” the boy cried.
I gripped his arm when he tried to run for my mate. Guards stood on either side of Oline, they’d bound her around her middle, one guard had a blade aimed at her ribs. The boy squirmed in my grip, shouting for his mother, tears forming in his eyes.
“Erik.” Oline forced a smile, hiding her own emotion. “It’s all right. No, look at me. I’m right here. I’m always here.”
“Papa.” The heir’s small voice cracked. “This…this isn’t how to do seek and find. You gotta, you gotta let her go and, and, she’ll hide.”
I released his arm with enough force he stumbled, then strode to a long table where drinking horns were positioned next to a decanter of sweet wine.
I popped the top off the drink and poured two horns, then returned to the heir. “Give me your hand.”
“Thorvald,” Oline pleaded. “Don’t do this. Not to him.”
Clever witch. She understood exactly what was planned.
“Give me your palm,” I said to the heir, firmer, harsher.
Heavy tears landed on his cheeks, but slowly he unfurled his palm. “I’ll do better,” he whispered. “I won’t sing to the fishes no more.”
“You will do better,” I snapped. “I’m sure of it.”
With his palm in my grip, I took a small knife from the side of my boot and slashed across his small hand. The boy whimpered, but he bit down on his bottom lip, desperate to keep from crying out. I took care not to touch his blood and tipped his palm over the wine goblets.
One went to Oline. I kept the other.
“Drink it,” I practically spat at the woman.
“I will curse you from the Otherworld all your days.” A flash of something dark flickered in her eyes. A sea witch with power much like her mother. “Your life will never be what you wish. Do this, Thorvald, and I vow to leave this kingdom cursed that it will never be the Ever you desire.”
For half a breath, I faltered. Oline was not a woman of idle threats. Then again, I’d never heard of a witch powerful enough to cast curses from the Otherworld. Narza would never curse her grandson, and it would not be me sending her girl to the Otherworld.
How could the Lady of Witches blame me when I had no control over the accident that got some of the heir’s blood inside her daughter’s throat?
I faced the boy. “You will prove today if you are worthy of the title Bloodsinger. Who will you sing back to life? From this day on you will only have one of us.”
“Papa, no!” He sobbed, one hand tugged at an ear, like he did not know what to do with them. “I-I-I want bowf. I want bowf.”
“It is a lesson a king must learn—he does not do what is best for him, but what is best for the kingdom. Only one of us will make you into a proper Ever King. Choose.”
Disgust coiled low in my belly when he glanced at his mother. When he tried to run forward, I gripped the back of his tunic collar.
I narrowed my gaze at my mate. “Offer some sense to the boy, Oline. Without my influence, you understand what happens to him. To you.”
“Erik,” Oline whispered, thick and wet. “I love you. I will always be with you, guiding you. Always. The caring side of your heart makes you powerful, do not ever forget it. I am proud of you, but you must let me go, my sweet boy.”
The boy hid his face behind his small palms, shoulders shaking. He was bleeding, crumbling, and I wanted to retch at the sight.
“Drink it,” I snapped at Oline, a new sort of violence in my tone.
A guard took the horn from my hand and curled Oline’s fingers around the center. The man kept looking to me, as though expecting me to alter course, to change my mind. Oline tightened her lips. She would not do this willingly.
I gave a nod at the guard. For half a breath, he closed his eyes, then tipped the horn to her lips. The second guard pulled her chin down, forcing the wine into her throat.
The heir screamed for her to stop. He yanked at his hair, pacing, frantic, desperate.
I took a long drink of the wine from my horn before letting it clatter to the stones. “Who will you save, boy?”
Already I could feel the bite of his venom in my veins. The sick heat that slashed through the blood like jagged thorns. It bubbled in my chest. I coughed.
Oline retched.
Despite his mother’s pleas, the heir made his choice. In a moment of horror, I watched as the boy—the future king in which I’d placed my every hope of a stronger Ever—ran to his damn mother.
“Erik, no.” Oline shook her head, spittle tinged in blood dripping out the corner of her mouth.
I dropped to one knee, the poison spreading. Godsdammit. Jaw tight, I looked to the nearest guard. “Kill them if he continues.”
I would rather meet the gods than see the Ever fall to such shame as having that boy become king.
The heir opened his mouth to sing, but Oline lifted her palm and clapped it over his mouth.
“No, you live. You live and be the king I know you can be. I will…I will watch from the seas of the Otherworld, I swear it. Now, go.” The boy shook his head, clawing at her hand.
“Go. Save your father. You will be king through him. I…I love you.”
Oline toppled forward when she shoved the heir toward me.
Another breath, another heartbeat, the boy considered what to do. When she gave him a weak nod, he rushed to my side, eyes and lashes soaked in tears.
He did not greet me as he often did, no small Papa, no attempt to please me. No. The boy did this because she asked it of him. Something burned in my chest, hard and vicious. What gods cursed me with such a useless son?
So much potential was in the veins of this child, and he would rather sing to damn flowers and read fae tales with a woman than fight for his folk, for his legacy.
The boy placed a palm on my cheek and sang. His voice was jagged and breathless, thick with emotion. Still, little by little the pain of his poison receded until I could prop up onto one elbow and the harsh taste of acrid death faded from my tongue.
He did not wait to see if I sat upright before fleeing back to Oline’s side.
She was sprawled on her back, dull eyes pointed at the sky. The heir shook her shoulders, singing broken words. “Maj!” He sobbed. “Maj! I’m gonna sing. I’m gonna sing!”
He kept trying, over and over.
One guard aided me in sitting up. “My king…” He did not finish, as though he did not know what orders he needed.
I shoved his grip off. “Take the heir to his chamber.”
The second guard lifted the boy off the ground. Never had I seen him kick and bite in such a tantrum as this. There was a bit of the rage I knew he could form. Over and over he called for Oline to wake.
She never would.
I staggered to my feet when the boy was brought to my side. Despite the lingering ache in my blood, I peered down at him, a scowl in place. “You will not leave your chamber, not even to eat, until these weak tears cease. Your choice, boy, was made perfectly clear this day.”
The heir did not plead. He did not look away. For the first time, I saw exactly what I’d always wanted to see in his eyes—hatred.