Chapter 46
JO
Edmond’s just as I remember him. Less formidable-looking than he is in my nightmares, however, and that somehow settles my nerves. It’s such a contradiction, because I’m aware that he’s more powerful than ever. I suspect he likes it that way, appearing less threatening than he actually is.
“Well, well, well,” he lilts, eyes roving over the lot of us. “This is interesting.” He looks at Hallis who escorted him here. “Will you please excuse us?”
Hallis dips his head in the customary Kenta way before leaving, and it’s then that I notice the two men who’ve entered the room in the king’s wake.
The man dressed in court attire smirks as he moves to the drink cart, the soldier with him following close behind.
“Would you like a drink, Edmond?” he asks, pouring himself a glass.
The king declines, moving to the tufted chairs in front of the hearth. He flicks a hand at the half-charred logs, and they ignite with a whoosh of fire.
“Ace?” the man asks, turning his attention to Acker, unstoppered decanter still in hand.
“No, thank you,” Acker replies.
The man then hands the glass to the soldier and, as the boy takes a sip, I realize with immense pleasure that the soldier must be a court taster. I bite my cheek to prevent myself from smiling.
“Son,” the king says, folding his hands in his lap once he sits. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d left for good.”
Acker pulls a blade from the strap across his chest. “Whatever gave you that impression?” he asks, twiddling the weapon in his hand. “It was your idea for me to retrieve my sister, was it not?”
Edmond lifts a curious brow. “When did you come to that conclusion?”
“About the time I was setting sail for Maile.” Acker moves to sit in one of the other chairs. “As you can see,” he says, pointing with the tip of his dagger at Irina. “I delivered.”
With the courtier and soldier to our backs, I try with all of my might to give Irina my silent support when I look at her.
She is stoic in her response. “Hello, father.”
It’s not the best, but it could be worse.
The king dismisses his daughter, not even thinking to inspect her form for an illusion as his eyes slide to me. “And you brought the traitorous bitch with you.”
“Watch it,” Acker snipes, eyes cutting to his father before moving to me. “A traitorous bitch, yes, but she’s no different than Greta. How many times did your Match try to kill you? Was it two or three times before you locked her in the library?”
What the fuck is he doing? I narrow my eyes at him, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the sitting room.
Edmond shows the first real hint of emotion since he walked in: a smile tugs at his mouth. “Three,” he answers.
Acker crooks a finger at me, arrogance dancing across his features as I take tentative steps toward him. He proceeds to pat his thigh in a silent order for me to sit on his lap. There’s no chance I’m able to disguise the disgust on my face and it serves to make a smirk spread across his face.
“Sit,” he commands.
Biting my lip to keep from voicing what I’d really like to say, I perch on his thigh, posture stiff as I try to adjust my shackles, so they don’t press painfully into my skin.
This pleases Edmond, his eyes crinkling at my obvious discomfort. “So, she’s cooperative now,” he says, gaze moving to his son. “How’d you manage that?”
“Cooperative is a stretch,” Acker replies, placing a tight grip on my hip. “But she’ll get there.”
“And your wife?” Edmond inquires. “Where is she?”
Sucking his teeth, Acker lets the silence stretch before he pulls me fully into his lap. It’s beyond inappropriate to sit like this in the presence of the king, but it reminds me of a time, very much like this, when I was in a similar position, and unseen by anyone in the room but my Match.
“If you want to have an honest conversation, father, then I need assurances you’re going to give me the same regard in return.
” I go still as he twirls the blade in his hand and then drags the flat of the blade along the length of my arm.
“I need to know you’re not going to try to manipulate me with your gift of influence. ”
Edmond shifts in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Back then, I wasn’t sure I could trust you. Having me followed wasn’t really a good way to build confidence, now, was it?”
Acker stops the blade, lifting it from my skin as he twirls it in his hand, and I release a slow breath.
“I knew you were keeping things from me.” I see the flick of his wrist a second before he stabs the dagger into the wooden table beside us.
“Things like how to siphon magic from another Heir with a slatstone.”
Edmond leans forward, there’s a hint of want in his eyes that tells me that I need to keep my wits about me. “How did you figure it out?”
Acker’s breath fans over my skin. “Beau.”
At the mention of her name, everyone looks at Irina, still standing where we left her. She appears scared for all of a second before she’s able to pull the mask back in place. If you weren’t aware of her true identity, you probably wouldn’t have even noticed.
“Oops,” she says, as if she’s bored.
Edmond’s eyebrows meet in the middle as he stares at her. “How did you know?”
“You didn’t believe this whole time that I tried to kill you and your entire council just because I wasn’t your favorite child, did you?” she smarts.
Her cadence is off. The delivery wasn’t the best. But the words themselves? Perfection.
I doubt Edmond paid enough attention to his daughter to catch on to the missed nuances.
“You were always too nosy for your own good,” he says, gaze flicking to the courtier behind her.
“Send for more men and have her escorted to the dungeons. Make sure there’re no less than five guarding her at all times. She’s sneaky.”
The man opens the door, speaking to a soldier stationed outside before closing it again. “Are you not going to collar her?” the unnamed courtier asks.
Acker gives him a pointed look. “If you’ve seen what her gift does to her after being around too many people with heightened emotions, you’d know that just being in the dungeons will be plenty to keep her in line.”
The king considers his son’s answer before nodding his agreement to the courtier. “Her threat is mostly physical, not magical. Just make sure she’s held in a cell.”
“And not with anyone else,” Acker adds. “She can manipulate anyone into doing her bidding.”
The courtier looks Irina up and down. “Do you intend to use her?”
Edmond smirks. “She’s correct that she was always my least favorite child, but she has proven to be useful from time to time.”
“For what?” Acker asks.
His father looks at his son for a long moment, then says, “I’ll explain more at a later time,” he says, gaze sliding to me.
The soldier returns with more guards than the five that Edmond originally requested. They converge on Irina, but she’s quick to jerk from their touch, her chin held high as she marches toward the door.
“I know where the dungeons are. I’ve put enough men in there to fill it ten times over,” she declares, leading the men from the room instead of the other way around.
“What are the odds they make it there alive?” Acker ponders.
“I’d say half,” Edmond replies with a smug smile. His eyes lingers on me, attention falling to the space below my chin, losing focus a moment and I suppress a shiver of revulsion. “I should have expected that you’d be unable to withstand the temptation of your Match if you went to Maile.”
Acker runs his thumb along my hip. “Like you said, I am your son.”
“That you are. But did you not once stop to think about the consequences of bringing the princess of Maile back with you?”
Taking a deep breath, his chest expanding against my back, Acker nods.
“I did. And while there’s an army of Maile soldiers headed toward us as we speak,” he says, stroking a finger down the side of my face in a gesture that could be considered adoring as well as intimidating.
“I’m hoping, with the growing cooperation of my Match here, that she can issue orders of their return to Maile in due time.
Have you heard that Jovie holds the throne now? ”
“Queen?” his father asks, surprise splashing across his face. “Since when?”
When Acker’s finger reaches the base of my neck, he spreads his hand across the expanse of my throat, and I realize he means for me to answer. “A year and some months,” I say on a swallow.
I’m not sure the king is convinced, judging by the way his gaze flicks back to Acker, dismissing me. “And what are Irina’s parents, Joss and Urich, going to think when they find out that your wife is … where, exactly?”
“I can’t say for certain, but there’s a possibility she’s alive.” Acker continues to twirl the blade between his fingers. “Depending on her ability to swim.”
Edmond sighs, as if his son murdering his own wife is an inconvenience and not a major concern. “There’s no way to prove her death wasn’t an accident, I guess. The worst they could do is point fingers, but it’s not like they’re going to join forces with Evelyn.”
“Not after they’ve laid siege to the Maile borderlands for months now. I’m quite pleased with that move.”
His father nods. “There’s more to be discussed,” he says, eyes shifting to me. “We’ll talk in private. In the meantime, I’ll have Stassia set up a guest room for your future wife—”
“Absolutely not,” Acker says, cutting him off. “She’ll stay with me.”
“It’ll be suspect if you move your Match into your bedchambers at exactly the same time we report your current wife missing.”
Acker sits forward, forcing me to perch on his knee. “I don’t care what it looks like. Hallis informed me of the guests you’ve accrued in my absence, and I don’t trust a single one of them to be alone anywhere near my Match and the rarity of her gift.”
Edmond’s expression hardens. “We’ll station soldiers outside her door.”
“Then put them outside my door,” Acker challenges. “She’s much too valuable and too tempting.”
His father stands, and telling by his posture, he’s going to physically and metaphorically attempt to put his foot down. Acker jerks to his feet and it nearly slings me to the ground, but I’m able to find my footing.
“I am your son, yes,” Acker says, tone a combination of passive and somehow unyielding at the same time. “But this is not negotiable. If you put her in a guest room, you know I’m just going to end up there anyway.”
Edmond eyes his son. He’s a few inches shorter than Acker, so seeing Acker’s dominating presence measured up against his father’s smaller stature creates an interesting dichotomy. But because of Edmond’s title and the magic he has accumulated, he is the one who holds all of the power here.
After a long moment, Edmond finally relinquishes his control. “History loves to repeat itself, son.” Grinning, he grabs Acker by the neck in a tight hold. “Collar her, make sure she’s restrained, and don’t let her best you again. There will be no leniency given. For either of you.”
“Understood.” Then Acker’s cocky smile returns in full force. “And there’s nothing to worry about. She won’t be able to scheme when she’s chained to my bed.”