30. Aemon
30
A t first glance, King Khalmos’ throne room isn’t all that much different from the one at Ferridas. But whereas the Ferridas palace was made of stone brick, these walls are smooth, cut directly from the rock that makes up this mountain range. The standards flanking the throne are blood red and barring the ümbros serpent and vines, while intricate tapestries line the stark gray walls.
“They’re sort of terrifying,” Katya says, eyeing the first tapestry. I have to agree. It’s basically an image of a massacre: a contingent of magi stand on a hill raining fire on a city, while soldiers slaughter fae in the streets, then throw their bodies into massive death piles.
“They are beautiful, are they not?” a voice asks from behind Katya and me. The two of us spin around to find King Khalmos standing before us, a small smile tugging at his bloodless lips. A thorny black crown sits upon his head, the chaotic circlet of interweaving vines dotted with red stones like rosebuds or perhaps blood.
“Your highness,” I say, dropping to one knee. Katya follows suit, thank the gods. The girl is a quick study, that’s for sure. Eyes to the floor, all I see are the king’s slippers peeking out from beneath white silk robes. Troi once told me the king always insisted on wearing white as it lent his already pale skin an almost ghostly pallor, contrast that with those bright pink eyes and he paints quite the intimidating picture.
“You may rise,” he says. I keep my gaze trained on the king as I get to my feet. I can feel Katya slowly stand alongside me. The king watches her with a little more interest than I like, but there’s nothing I can do about that, so I keep my mouth shut. He points to the first tapestry. “Do you know the history of my people, surface dwellers?”
“A little,” I answer honestly.
“And you?” he asks Katya, and by the stunned expression on her face, she’s as surprised to be addressed by him as I am.
“Some,” she says, and he raises a brow, obviously expecting her to continue. Katya clears her throat. Her hands tremble, but to her credit, her voice is strong and clear. “I know we were all the same once.” She points to the tapestry. “The only difference between the two races was that Father Solis chose to gift magic to one and not the other. The magicless fae were chased underground, where they discovered blood magic.”
He shakes his head. “We didn’t save ourselves, child. It was Ledi’nochte—your mother of night—that brought our people to these caverns.” He points to a second tapestry depicting a winged beauty with long white hair and bright red eyes. “Our lady’s magic lies in the darkness, and it was in the darkness of these caves, where she first gave our people the gift of blood magic. Then she created the Tenebra-Ka to determine the first ruler of her kingdom.” He points to the last tapestry where men battle with spears in a massive arena. “We keep these stories to remind us of where we come from and to never trust surface dwellers.” He gives her a pointed look.
Oh, the irony.
He claps his hands together, signaling an end to the conversation and turns for his throne. “So, I hear you’re throwing around the name of your newly crowned king in the hope that I will release you. Is that correct, Lieutenant Cregg?”
Thank the gods he recognizes me. “Yes, sire. I believe there’s been some mistake. Your soldiers attacked us on the way to Ranook and—”
“Whoever said it was a mistake?” The king sinks onto his marble throne with a sigh.
“Sire, I’m sure if you contact the king, he’ll—”
Khalmos raises a hand, silencing me, but it’s Katya he’s looking at. “What is your name, child?”
She glances at me, then back at the king, her forehead scrunched in confusion. “Katya, sire.”
“Surname?”
Why is he questioning her? “Your highness?” I begin.
He slams a fist on the arm of his throne. “Silence.”
I’m so stunned I start to take a step back, then catch myself. The last thing I need is to show any sign of weakness, but he’s got me off kilter. That’s probably his intention. Katya pauses for a moment, and I know what’s she’s thinking. She’s wondering if it would be a bad move to give him her real name, or if he already knows it and is testing her for some reason.
“Valstrad, sire,” she replies.
He nods as though he already knew this, then turns his attention back to me. “No mistake was made, Lieutenant. It was your faithful king who told us where we could find you.”
I close my eyes and let out a breath. I never should have sent that telegram.
“Actually,” the king continues. “His exact instructions were to kill you and keep your beautiful magi companion as a gift.
Fuuuuck.
Katya spins on me, brows sky-high, eyes wide as if to ask, “What the fuck?”
What the fuck, indeed?
“Typically, surface politics are of little interest to me,” the king continues, studying his fingernails in a lame attempt at feigning boredom. “But given the timing of the queen’s unfortunate demise and your king’s request, I admit, I am a bit curious. Why does your king want you dead, and why isn’t he sending his own men to find you?”
Because half of those men are more loyal to me than him. I’m not going to say that, of course, but if the rumors are true about his ability to read minds, it won’t matter. I can feel Katya’s gaze on the side of my face as I speak, but I keep my eyes firmly on the king. “I went against his orders to go after Katya.”
Katya grabs my arm—her tiny hand barely reaches halfway around my bicep. “What? Why would you do that?”
“He was going to send Fredrick after you. I wasn’t going to let that happen. ”
“So, this is all about a female? That is disappointing. I had hoped for something more… useful.”
In other words, something he could use against Troi.
“Exactly,” Khalmos replies, the corners of his lips curling into a fiendish smile. Guess that answers the question about whether he can read minds. “That’s too bad, I had hoped to strike a deal, but clearly, you are no use to me.” He waves to a soldier. “Take them.”
The soldiers start for us. “Wait,” I say. Two of the males grab me by the arms. I jerk and twist, trying to free myself, then a third one comes and snatches up my feet and I’m fucked. “What kind of deal? I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” I shout, twisting in my captors’ arms so I can see the king. He’s already taking a paper from some servant or adviser or whatever he is, and is looking it over as though we never existed. “Troi killed the queen.”
The soldiers holding me freeze and turn me around so I’m facing Khalmos. “I mean, he hired the assassin.” The king looks at me then, eyes assessing. “Of course he did,” he says. “The question is, do you have proof?”
He already knows the answer to that.
Beside me, Katya follows along quietly. Then without warning, she twists around and calls out to Khalmos. “Are you going to kill us?”
Fuck. I can hear the tear in her voice, and it’s like a knife to my heart. She wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for me.
The king gives her a solicitous smile. “No. You’re much more useful to me alive than dead.” He turns back to the paper in his hand. “At least for now.”
If I thought telling Katya how much I risked for her would endear her to me, I was very sadly mistaken. The first thing she does when we get back to the slave camp is round on me. “What were you thinking?”
I let out a breath and drop my head back. I really don’t want to deal with this right now. “I was thinking I didn’t want those assholes to hurt you.”
“So, you thought it was better to risk both of our lives on the presumption that the king would just forgive you? Because of what, your charm and good looks?”
“You think I’m good looking, huh?” I waggle my brows.
Pressing a hand to her forehead, she rolls her eyes toward the ceiling, and says, “Oh my gods. It’s like I’m trying to have a discussion with a pigeon.”
“A pigeon?”
She pops her hip, folds her arms across her chest, and gives me a glare that would make a lesser man shudder. It just makes me hard. “Yes, Aemon, a pigeon. Was there another creature you’d rather be compared to? A dung beetle, perhaps?”
That was uncalled for. “I’m so sorry for trying to keep you alive,” I reply, my voice dripping sarcasm. “Next time, I’ll just hand you over to Fredrick and let him have his merry way with you. Is that what you’d prefer? ”
“Are those the only choices? Really? You or them?” She takes a step closer, craning her neck to look me in the eye. “How about all of you leave me and my family out of your political pissing match? What about that option?”
“I was trying to help you.”
She clenches her hands into fists at her sides. “I didn’t need your help,” she replies, loud enough to turn the heads of all the miners in our vicinity. Fuck. The last thing we need is to attract more attention, especially from the guards.
“Maybe we should talk about this somewhere more private.” I take her by the forearm and try to pull her away from watchful eyes, but she wrenches her arm free of my grasp.
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
“Katya.”
“I was less than two days’ ride from home. Two days and I would have had my mother’s help. I didn’t need you.”
“Oh please. Those assholes at Duje would have turned you in the second you knocked on their door.”
She scoffs. “Wow. You must really think I’m stupid.”
Great. Here comes the ‘I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself’ speech. “I never said you were stupid, na?ve maybe, but not stupid.”
“Na?ve is relying on a pretty male I just met to jump in and save me. Stupid is waltzing into Dom Duje, an escaped prisoner, and expecting to be greeted with open arms. Those people hated me when there wasn’t a price on my head. You really think I’d trust them now? I’m talking about my mother who has connections and could have found someplace to hide me until things got resolved. ”
“You don’t think Duje was being watched? Come on, Katya. They would have caught you before you even had the chance to talk to her.”
“And this is better?”
I’ve got half a dozen expletives burning a hole in my tongue, just waiting for me to hurl them at her beautiful, bitchy face, but I bite them back. “I thought I had a handle on Troi, alright? Obviously, I was wrong.”
“Obviously.” She folds her arms across her chest and taps her foot, waiting for…
“What?”
“I just…” She looks away from me, her eyes landing on a group of slaves who have been watching us. Suddenly, they all become extremely interested in the floor, the fire, their fingers, pretty much everything except Katya’s gaze. It’s unbelievable. I—a powerful male who has already proved himself capable of beating the ever-loving-shit out of anyone I choose—glare at them and they don’t so much as flinch, but tiny Katya takes one look at them and they’re all shitting in their pants. I’d probably find it hilarious if I wasn’t so pissed. “You hardly know me,” she says, her voice smaller, less certain, than before. “Why would you take that kind of risk for someone you hardly know?”
I open my mouth to speak. “I-uh…” What do I say to that? It doesn’t make any logical sense. Elsbeth said as much to me before I left, so how do I explain it to her? How do I make her understand that the very thought of somebody harming her pains me in a way I’ve never felt before? Like losing her would be losing the other half of myself. “I just couldn’t let them hurt you,” I finally reply. It’s the truth, if not the whole truth .
“And what you said about your prince killing the queen? Was that true?”
Fuck .
“I was trying to get us out of here.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
I sigh. Why does everything have to be so damned difficult? “It’s just a theory, Katya.”
She drags her gaze from the fire and looks at me, her eyes searching my features, as though trying to discern the things I’m afraid to say. Her scrutiny is enough to fray my nerves and turn my hands clammy. I have no problem facing a hoard of trained soldiers on a battlefield, yet this woman and the feelings I have for her terrify me. Every time I look at her face, all I can think about is how beautiful she is and how much I want to kiss her, touch her, sweep her up into my arms and make love to her. I want to give her so many orgasms, she passes out, then wake her up stuffed full of my cock and fuck her until she swears she’s mine and comes screaming my name.
Someday.
The shrill clanging of a bell startles us both. Katya takes two quick steps back, and she hugs her chest, effectively walling herself off.
One of the guards begins shouting and waving his arms around. I haven’t a clue what he’s saying, but it’s clear he’s splitting the males and females off into two lines. “He says we have to go to sleep now,” Katya tells me, her eyes on the ground. “You have to go over there.” She points to the line of male slaves.
The thought of leaving her side, even for a second, makes me antsy—like an itch I can’t reach, but I don’t have the luxury of choices right now. Anyway, she’s probably relieved to get away from me. I nod. “Goodnight, Katya.” Then I turn for the men's line, leaving her behind.
I don’t look back.