Chapter 48
ACKER
A ting resonates from the glass door leading to the balcony. Pulling on a shirt, I peer through the frosted glass and spot a bird perched on the railing. I check that Jovie is covered under the bedding before I open the door. I’m quick to shut it after the hawk flies in through the gap.
Releasing a bundle from his talons, Messer shifts. “Good morning,” he sings.
Jovie jerks awake, her disoriented gaze swinging around the room before her eyes land on Messer’s bare backside. She makes sure her robe is properly closed right as Messer looks over his shoulder in her direction.
“To you, too, your royal highness.”
She rolls her eyes. “You know how much I hate that.”
I pick up the item he dropped, the pants unfolding from my grip. “Where’d you find these?” I ask, tossing them to him.
He catches them against his chest. “They were left on a clothesline to dry,” he replies, rubbing the back of his head. “A lady whacked me a few times with a broom.”
“I actually would have loved to see that,” I tell him.
“I bet you would,” he replies.
“Will you hurry up and put those on already?”
His mouth thins, but he acquiesces. “You’re starting to give me a complex,” he says, shoving one leg in at a time.
“Maybe you need one.”
Straightening, he buttons the waistband and turns to Jovie. “You look like you slept well. I was—” He stops mid-sentence, eyes narrowing. “Is that—Are you chained to the bed?” His gaze swings back to me. “I thought we were past this.”
“You and me both,” Jovie mutters.
“It’s an assurance I needed to give my father. I don’t like it any more than either of you do.”
Messer blinks at me. “Why do I feel like you’re lying?”
“Because he secretly loves it,” Jovie insists.
And I can’t deny it. There is a part of me that loves knowing she can’t go anywhere. By her own volition or otherwise. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it settles something in me that I’m not ready to dissect.
Messer’s eyebrows jump up on his forehead. “Interesting.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes, calling a blade from the strap I hung on the end of the bedframe to my hand. “Did Fredrich make it to Wells’s smithy?”
His expression turns serious as he nods.
“Yes, but it was being occupied by some vagrants. They were less than … welcoming to any newcomers. We handled them, and their bodies are currently in a refuse bin near the city center. With the weather being what it is, they shouldn’t start to smell for days. ”
I twirl the blade between my fingers. “If not weeks.”
“Ideally,” he agrees.
“I need to show my face at court,” I tell them. “And I need to check on Irina in the dungeons.”
“You want me to stay with B?”
“For the time being, yes. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone.”
“I won’t have any problems sneaking in if you want me to go tonight.”
I shake my head. “I also have a friend I need to check on.”
“Zion?” Jovie asks.
“Yes,” I answer, moving to the other side of the bed. I look toward Messer. “As much as I prefer you clothed, it’s best if you’re a little more inconspicuous on the off chance anyone does try to come in while I’m absent. My father will likely send in maidservants to spy and report back to him.”
“Not a problem,” he says, undoing his new pants with a smirk.
“I can be inconspicuous.” He shoves his pants off with unnecessary flourish and I sigh, waiting for the sound of bones and cartilage cracking and moving to settle before looking back in his direction.
Or rather, down at the floor, at the new four-legged creature standing in Messer’s place.
“A housecat,” I state flatly.
“Aww,” Jovie coos.
She pats the bed for the small orange tabby to jump up. He stretches as she runs a hand down his back and I can’t believe I’m jealous of the motherfucker. Pawing at the blanket, he settles on her lap.
“You do realize he’s a grown man, right?” I ask, moving toward her.
“But he’s so cute,” she says, scratching behind his ears.
I swear his purring is extra loud just to spite me.
“What am I to do if I need to use the bathroom?” she asks.
Raising my hand, I unwind more filigree from the headboard, twisting the plated metal into additional length for the leash of chain.
Her eyes widen. “You could have given me that much leeway the whole time?”
I smile as she comes to the realization that I could have, but simply didn’t want to. I liked having her body plastered against mine all night, and I can’t stop my grin as I fasten the strap of daggers across my chest.
“You’re such a prick,” she says, but there’s no heat behind her words.
I reach into my bedside table, producing a string of mangi stones. Jovie eyes me as I put them on, lips pursed, and I give her a look. Like, see, even I have to wear them.
Bracing a hand against the bed, I lean over to place a kiss on her mouth. I meant for it to be quick, but something about leaving her has me deepening the connection. A tiny yowl from Jovie’s lap has me pulling away.
As sick as I felt at the thought of being separated from her when I intended to leave her at Wells’s parents, it doesn’t hold a candle to the way my stomach tightens leaving her in the worst place she can be, chained with a collar and no way to defend herself.
It’s those thoughts alone that has me scratching the top of Messer’s cat head with rough strokes. “Keep her safe,” I tell him.
He swipes a paw at me but I jerk back in just the nick of time.
The soldiers stationed outside my door are the same as last night. I don’t recognize either of them as being room guards I’ve had previously, undoubtedly a conscious choice on my father’s part, but I nod my head at them in respect regardless.
“When is shift change?” I ask.
“Noon,” the one on the right says.
Good to know. “Have a good day, boys.”
As I leave my wing of the palace, the halls become more and more congested.
People I’ve never laid eyes on before roam the halls.
Dressed in their finest, they congregate, some already with drinks in their hands and its barely even breakfast. More soldiers loiter about, and I suppose I should find comfort in their presence, but somehow it just makes my unease grow.
In the dining hall, I finally see some familiar faces.
Members of my father’s council and their families, as well as neighboring lords who often frequented court before the Roison invasion.
Some of them are less than pleased about my return to the palace, however.
Paul and Draken are the most obvious about their opinion, turning away from my approach to their table.
“Gentlemen,” I say, sliding into an open spot on the bench seat. “I must apologize for my extended absence. My father had me on a special errand.”
“Oh, we’ve heard,” Lord Furlough says. “Retrieving your sister, right?”
“That’s right.”
Paul all but sneers at me. “And your backstabbing whore, as well. Don’t forget to mention her.”
I reach for an apple from the fruit bowl on the table, rubbing it on my shirt before I take a bite. “Consider her mentioned,” I say, pointing a finger at him. “But watch your fucking mouth.”
His face reddens under the attention of his peers. “You can’t talk to me like that, boy.”
“I believe he just did.” All of our heads turn toward my father, and his mere presence is effective in shutting Paul up. “Son,” my father says. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
I take another bite of the apple before depositing what’s left of it on Paul’s plate, then give one last look at the rest of them while standing up. “Lord Draken. Furlough,” I say, nodding my farewell.
My father grabs me by the back of the neck as we step away and I do my best not to flinch under the touch. “I thought you were going to put a fork down his throat,” he says, smiling once our backs are turned.
“Didn’t want to upset the women,” I say, waving to one of the councilmen’s wives.
“I appreciate your restraint,” he says, smiling at me. “You’re in a particularly good mood this morning,”
“What can I say? I’m glad to be home.”
“And with your Match,” he beams. “I suspect you’ve had a good night?”
My smile isn’t as forced. “The best I’ve had in a while.”
“Good,” he says, and I’m reminded of the man I used to look up to.
The father who seemed interested in my well-being.
It’s the first time in a long time that I feel like he’s not looking at me with a hidden agenda, which makes me all the more apprehensive.
I feel for any stirrings from my magic, searching for a hint of my father’s influence, but if he’s attempting to persuade me, it’s too subtle for me to notice.
That or the small string of mangi around my neck is muddling his abilities when he’s touching me.
There’s no telling just how powerful each of his gifts are, if some are stronger than others.
He leads me to someone I’ve never laid eyes on before. But the yellow emblem on his lapel reveals his identity before my father needs to say anything. I suppose Kai can be trusted after all. At least, to some degree.
“Chryse, this is my son, Acker,” my father says, introducing us. “Son, this is the king of Roison.”
The man who made a deal with my Match to exchange her life in payment for mine. The weight of every pair of eyes in the dining hall is on our backs.
I hold out my hand in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He returns the gesture, but, unlike me, there’s not even a hint of a smile on his face. “Likewise,” he drawls. “It’s nice to put a face to the man who’s been sneaking into my territory and killing my men for years.”
I release his hand, casually putting mine into my pockets. I could lay out all the reasons why it was self-defense when I had to sneak into his territory and kill his men, but it wouldn’t make a difference. Not when I’m entirely unrepentant about any of those transgressions.
“Chryse,” my father says with an air of chastisement. “I’ve secured the asset you specifically requested. Are you or are you not dedicated to making this alliance work?”
The king of Roison is a formidable man. His shoulders are broad, and he’s taller than myself by at least a foot. He’s not above using his physical presence to his advantage, letting his stature do the intimidating for him.
“An asset I’ve yet to lay eyes on,” he says, drinking from the chalice in his hand.
“Soon,” my father assures him. “He’s secured in the dungeons.”
After a few more minutes of idle chat about the battlefront being stalled to the east, Chryse departs the hall with a disinterested glare in my direction, taking his fellow Roison men with him.
I turn toward my father. “Why would we ever fucking align with Chryse?”
“He’s agreed to join under a truce. The front lines have been stalled under a white flag he raised just hours ago. He wants to end this war as badly as the rest of us.”
I ask under my breath. “Wren agreed to this? After the whole spiel about him wanting to take over Roison’s territory?” My eyes scan the dining hall. “Where is the captain of the Alaha anyway?”
My father hushes me with a stern look as he guides me out of the dining hall and into the narrow servants’ passage leading up from the kitchens. “I’m calling for a meeting tonight. A lot has happened in your absence, but right now is not the time to hash everything out.”
I clench my teeth. There’s a fine line between pushing back so I don’t appear too agreeable and pointing out the fact he’s the one who just introduced me to the ruler we’ve been in active opposition to for years in front of the entire Kenta court.
Chryse is the very man who’s pushed the front lines right up to the walls of our city.
The only thing stopping him from invading in truth is some agreement that allows him to steal someone’s magic.
Even if I wasn’t secretly aiming to topple the house of cards my father has precariously built, it doesn’t take a genius to know all of this is flimsy, at best.
“I do have some regretful news to share,” my father says, expression a pitiful show of sympathy. “Tyreek refused to see the benefit of the new order of things and was rousing some of the councilmen against me.”
I dip my head in a nod in an effort to hide the rage wanting to surface. “Hallis told me,” I say, meeting his stare when I feel I have my emotions under control. “Said Zion is being held in the dungeons. I’d like to go speak to him.”
Once again, he clasps me by the neck, and I concentrate on not flinching under his touch. “Of course. I know how much you value your friendship with the boy, hence why I spared him.” The next words out of his mouth sends a chill down my spine. “But don’t get any wild ideas.”