Chapter Twenty-Six #2
“Always to someone’s rescue, Kallias. You’re a king. Send your soldiers. Truly, you behave like a peasant.”
The knife in my hand gleamed beneath the chandelier. I stared at it, wishing I could simply thrash it to the side and be done with her. “I am the king—I will help my people.”
“Helping them would’ve meant avoiding war,” she said, her fingers curling around my sleeve. Red nails pierced my green overcoat, crimson on leaves. “You refused to cross the mountains. You wouldn’t concede the Craggs. A true king would have known when to yield.”
My shoulder twitched. I tried to shake her off. My body stayed still, nerves dead to command.
“Silence.”
“That’s what you want from me? One of us has to speak the truth.”
She shoved my chair back. I lurched, trying to break free, but Claydon blurred, replaced by Gayle. Then Darius. Then Fallione. My entire court assembled before me. Blank-eyed. Silent. Watching.
“You have one duty.”
“To protect my–”
Her hand cracked against my face. I snarled and lunged, but the world spun, warped. I slammed onto my back.
She was on me. Naked. On her bed. My voice trapped in my throat as I bucked, powerless. Her laughter rang, shrill and cruel. My clothes—gone. Stripped without my knowledge or consent. Gods, how did I get here?
It was a dream. It had to be.
I threw my arm with all the strength I could muster. The strike landed soft, pitiful. My fingers scrabbled at her hair. Useless.
“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, slapping my hand aside. Her claws raked down my chest, not in play—but to wound. Blood welled up, soaking the sheets. Too much. Far too much for scratches that shallow.
She laughed, high and unhinged, dragging a finger through the mess. “Now they’ll find you, dearest. They know your secrets.”
I roared, fighting against the lead in my limbs. Rage surged, trapped beneath flesh that wouldn’t obey. What was happening to me? What had she done?
“Come here, son. Hold him for me.”
No.
Tallon stepped from the shadows. Older. Cruel. That cold smile split his face in two. “He’s weak. Trails after the girl like a pup.”
She leaned close. Her breath hit my lips, heavy with rot and iron. “He’ll never sire an heir.” Blood-slick fingers gripped my jaw. “I’ll make certain of it.”
The world blackened, but her weight remained, settled along my hips.
Eldeiade’s head lifted. Tallon had vanished. I lay beneath her, half-dressed in a sweat-damp tunic and loose trousers. The fabric barely managed a thin barrier between us.
I growled, driving my hips upward, straining with all that remained. My limbs lagged, slow and unsteady. Poison—had to be poison. Where was Greaves? Had she gotten to him too?
We crashed to the floor, and her scream split the air. Nails dug for purchase. My hands locked around her throat. Her face twisted, shrieking beneath me. Radaan was better off with a murderer for a king than a queen who threw my nation to the wolves.
Her fist collided with my jaw. I hit the floor again, vision bursting with stars. She crawled over me, dragging herself back into place, grinding into my lap. My stomach churned. Her heat seared through the thin layers of fabric. My body betrayed me. My mind screamed treason.
This wasn’t duty or legacy. This was something else. Something wrong. Entirely, completely wrong.
Water surged into my nose. I choked—drowning. Coughs raked my chest, and I rolled, the motion too fluid for muscles still dulled by sleep. Pain bloomed as my skull cracked against the dresser’s edge. I swore, flailing for Eldeiade. Had she found a new way to kill me?
“Kallias!”
Not her voice. Nienna’s.
The fog lifted as I scrambled upright, hacking against the fluid burning down my throat.
Greaves knelt beside me, red bruises wrapped around his neck. A swollen welt pulsed beneath his jaw. Nienna hovered behind him, moonlight casting silver across her hair. She held an empty basin in both hands.
“He’s with us,” my friend muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, checking for blood.
Nienna’s shoulders dropped as a quiet exhale escaped her. “Get on the bed.” No softness in her tone. Not a suggestion—a command. Eldeiade’s voice echoed in my skull, and my mind recoiled.
Greaves rose and whispered something to her. I barely noticed. I needed to shake off the nightmare, feel whole again. What kind of king suffered dreams like that? Who lashed out at his friend? I thought the night terrors were behind me, that I’d mastered myself.
He threw a final glance over his shoulder and left, the door sealing me in with Nienna and the pieces I hadn’t yet picked up.
“I’m sorry you saw that.” My voice scraped dry as I used the dresser to haul myself upright.
She didn’t answer. Just stared, her face shuttered and still. After she set the basin aside, she eased onto the bed, moving with a wariness that stung. Like I might bite.
“Please sit,” she said, patting the space beside her.
I looked down at myself—soaked through, filth clinging to the fabric. I’d passed out in my clothes after council and missed supper entirely. Had Greaves tried to wake me? Or just let me rest? The ache in my head had vanished, replaced by stiff muscles screaming with each breath.
My knees buckled, and I dropped beside her, back hitting the mattress. “They haven’t come in years.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Her voice came soft, cautious.
“No.” What man would speak of such things? “But if you ask, I’ll answer. You deserve to know everything.”
There was so much I hadn’t told her. That I feared I couldn’t give her a child. That the night terrors still clawed their way free when I let my guard slip.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No.” Elohios, no. I craved her presence. Needed her not to look away. To stay, even now, even like this. To show me she’d have me at my worst.
She lay beside me, unmoving and silent. I closed my eyes, and let the darkness shield me, cover what pride I had left. The bed shifted. A single finger traced the length of my arm, slow, steady. She didn’t speak. Just touched me. A tether. Proof she hadn’t run.
“Tell me what to do,” she whispered. “I hate this.”
“What?”
“This helplessness.” Her voice barely rose above breath. “I don’t know what to say, how to act. You’ve always been the strong one. I want to help you. How do I fix this?”
I knew that feeling too well. The uncertainty. The fear of saying the wrong thing. Of doing too much, or not enough.
What did I need? What could I give back?
“Let me touch you,” I rasped. The words tasted like broken glass. I wanted to spar, to beat this weakness down, bury it beneath bruises and sweat. Instead, I asked. Pleaded.
She shifted. The mattress dipped. Her hand wrapped mine and pulled me to my side. She guided my touch underneath her dress, above the band of her breeches, and pressed my palm to the warmth of her bare stomach.
My breath stilled. My pulse slowed. She didn’t see a monster. Not a threat. My thumb brushed soft skin near her navel. I breathed in the scent of her. Waterlilies, linen, warmth.
This was what love looked like in daily life. Quiet, steady, real. The kind people built a world around. The kind I thought belonged to others—never to kings.
Never to me.
“Don’t strike me,” I said low, the words catching before they escaped. Let the dark hide what shame it could.
I was no small man. I stayed strong. Maintained a warrior’s build, a leader’s frame—and here I lay, begging a woman not to hurt me.
She swallowed, nodded, and covered my hand with hers.
“Tell me what you want,” I said. Not a plea—an exchange. “What must I not do?”
Her brow furrowed. She hesitated. “Do not belittle me. Not in front of others. If you must correct me… do so in private.”
I snorted, a wry smile tugging at my mouth. “Likewise.”
“Your turn,” she murmured, scooting closer. Her fingers rose, hesitant, brushing my chest.
“Don’t undermine me,” I said. “Disagree in our chambers. Not before the court.”
“A unified front,” she agreed. “Always kiss me good night.”
I raised a brow. “Starting on our wedding night?”
“Or tonight. I wouldn’t tell you no.”
My eye twitched. A flinch I didn’t catch in time. “If I say no—gods help me, if I ever do—respect it.”
“I will.” No hesitation. No pause. Just her word. She didn’t know how much that meant to me.
“Come here,” I said, pulling her to my chest. “I don’t mean to push you away. But there are things I have to keep for myself.”
I wouldn’t tell her about Eldeiade. Or what happened in my nightmare. That horror belonged to me alone. She didn’t need to carry it—or see me through it. That wasn’t part of the life I promised her.
I brushed her hair back and wrapped my hand around her waist, holding her there in the quiet.
“My past is mine,” I murmured. “But my future is yours.”