11. Chapter 10 Svenn
Chapter 10 Svenn
“ T hat kill was mine.”
I’ve been tracking Carver for five fucking days. The Grimsbane has completely disappeared over the face of the earth. My keen senses detected a hint of his scent today. It traces back to this tavern and to this bastard in crimson cape, drinking his ale blissfully at the counter.
“Where is he?” My voice drops to a dangerous growl.
“What is this about now?” Red asks, not even bothering to answer my question. I know immediately that the assassin is dead.
“You stole my hunt.”
Patience has never been my strong suit. I want to skin this bastard alive. It may not be as satisfying as crushing the skull of the Grimsbane who hurt Nel, but it will be enough to sate these beasts raging inside me.
Red raises a brow as he glances at me.
“I overheard him bragging at the bar about how he made my queen bleed,” he says in a deceptively calm voice. “I know Her Highness wouldn’t want me to hurt people for her sake, and I almost walked away. But the Grimsbane had to blurt about how he…”
The bastard pauses his last speech. I can see the rage building behind his eyes. “It was personal. My cause for killing trumped yours.”
Yes, Carver has a certain smell to him. It tells me that he is the type that preys on the weak and those who are unable to fight back. Han once made it his personal cause to rid the world of people like him. Maybe Red does have a better claim to his flesh.
“Did he suffer?” I ask.
“Long and slow. Just the way his victims did.”
Some of the elves in the tavern are giving me a strange look as they pass. Men have looked at me that way in the past and did not live past morning.
Red seems to notice their stare too. “You look like you’re about to murder someone. Lighten up.”
I do. That someone is him.
“How about I buy you a drink?” he says, unruffled by the threat to his life.
He still orders for me when I don’t answer, winking at a barmaid as he does it. Not one of them suspects this charming, so well-put-together knight is the fucking devil.
“Come on. I’m not acquainted with any necromancer who can revive the dead Grimsbane for you to torture. This is the best I can offer.” The bastard keeps talking, unaware he’s living on borrowed time.
“Why don’t we talk about this over there?” He jerks his head towards a booth at the back with a window overlooking the outside. “Rhianelle usually passes by that bridge after their city hall meetings. This spot is closer than your usual haunt, the rooftop.”
At the mention of her name, my claws retract. This red cloaked fucker should be taking the Grimsbane’s place. But the temptation of stealing a closer glance at Little Fawn in daylight outweighs my desire for violence. Once again, I find myself bending another rule for Rhianelle.
Red places one of the pewter cups right across him, expecting me to take the seat. I don’t know how I’m going to sit with him there without putting a hole in his chest. I rein in my temper and settle quietly.
“Elven ale is a rather poor draft but it’s all we got around here.” The male draws from his tankard.
I don’t touch mine.
“I’m going to have pancakes. You want one?” Red shoots the tavern keeper one of his easy-going smiles and signals him for food.
I release a sigh, wondering how long I must tolerate him before Nel graces me with her presence. “Give me a reason not to kill you.”
“Rhianelle will be sad,” Red replies, smirking into his chalice.
“She’ll recover.”
“No, she won’t. I’m her favorite knight.”
All the more reason to kill him.
“I’m protecting Rhianelle from the shadows,” he says, stretching at his seat like a lazy cat.
I push the thoughts of rearranging his inside for a moment. Rhianelle’s enemies don’t just rise from distant court in the south. She has them right here under her nose.
“Thanks for keeping my secrets by the way. I know I can count on you. We’re kindred spirits, you and I.” He gives me a broad grin. “I think we will get along just fine.”
I don’t know enough of elven politics to know if he’s really helping her. The guys he killed are the ones these elves call the Valorians. A bunch of fanatic knights in a strange cult.
“Look, I actually did you a favor,” he mutters dispassionately in a low voice. “I would have invited you to the Grimsbane’s torture, but I need to properly dispose this one.”
I lift my gaze to look at him with mild interest. Red didn’t pin the assassin’s death to the town’s murderer this time. He simply made the guy disappear.
“The Grimsbane is one of Rainer Wiolant’s guys,” he says simply.
The tavern keeper arrives at our table just as he says that, almost crashing forward with the plates of food. That stricken look on the poor lad’s face is not because of me but the mere mention of that name.
It seems that Nel’s uncle has a certain reputation. The guy invited me here and hasn’t shown his face since.
Red mutters his thanks to the pale server.
“I don’t mess with Rainer. No one does,” he continues solemnly. “Back when I was a commander of the Valorian, we had to check this case in the eastern border. Two hundred and thirty-eight slavers murdered in cold blood.”
Why does this fucker sound so surprised? He goes out every night to kill.
He lowers his fork and stares into his glass. “I mean, yes, they’re criminals, but the bodies… Good gods.”
His face twists like he accidentally drank sour milk. I contemplate killing him again before he can vomit in front of me. “I’ve never seen something so sick. It’s like the wrath of some dark god. Their bodies were crumpled like this.”
He crushes the paper napkin in his hand.
This little tale of his is useless when I lack any fucks to give. If Rhianelle’s uncle does possess such power, then he should have used it on me in our last fight. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about me warming his niece’s bed every night.
Red leans back in his seat with a wide smile. “I’d be careful if I were you. Who knows if that power runs in the family?”
I ignore him and train my eyes on the ivory building across the tavern. Little Fawn is somewhere inside. She was in a rush to go to the meeting this morning. I wonder if they provide her with meals during those discussions.
“Can we talk about something while we wait?” Red requests.
Do I have a fucking choice?
“The wolf from before… is it just following me or is it after my queen?” he asks, his face growing serious for once.
“No. Just you.”
“Well, all is well then. Oh, you’re missing a button.” He points to my sleeve with his fork.
I’m certain that it’s the tree rats Rhianelle’s been feeding that keep stealing my stuff.
Red resumes his meal merrily. “If you have issues or need someone to talk to about your relationship with the queen, I’m here.”
His offer is as unnecessary as his existence.
Our relationship—if it can be called that, has improved immensely over the last couple of days, especially after our training together. But I still can’t get past her walls…
“Still think she’s not fit to be queen?” he asks, making small talk.
“She cares too much…” I mutter quietly.
“Rhianelle is kind therefore she is weak?” Red arches a brow.
“I never said that,” I snarl at him. But yes, her tender heart is a fatal flaw that could lead to my wife’s undoing.
The guy studies me, chewing his stupid pancake silently. “Have you ever considered that maybe she is kind because she is strong?”
My eyes widen.
I can’t think of a damn thing to say to that.
I’m surprised Red manages to say something that struck a chord to my heart. I mull over his words until I glimpse a flash of silver hair over the white stone precinct.
There she is.
Rhianelle is always a vision to watch, clad in her viridian dresses, heavy robes, and grand headdresses. My pulse plunges into a chaotic rhythm at the sight.
A goddess.
I’ve never been religious in my existence, but I’d worship her.
Red was right, this spot does have the best view. She moves along the portico, discussing something with her fellow council member.
Nel seems so vulnerable and small amongst those battle-hardened warriors. The more I look at her, the more I realize she doesn’t belong in this den of wolves. The entire world seems unsafe, filled with dangers and traps lurking in the next corner, waiting to ensnare my little fawn. I feel a sudden need to steal her and keep her for myself. I force the burgeoning desire at bay.
Something is off.
The pacing of her heartbeat is too smooth and regular. I catch the brief knitting of her eyebrows as if she’s waiting for it all to be over.
She’s hurting.
No one notices that look because Rhianelle wears her mask so damn well.
Suddenly, nothing else matters. I get up from the booth and leave the tavern in a haste. I don’t care for the eyes cowering in my presence, the poor souls who are in my path. All I know is I need to get to her urgently.
“Where are you going?” Red asks, catching up with me from behind.
I don’t listen to him as I storm the compound.
Fuck, fuck, where is she?
The building’s frontage is within sight, but Rhianelle is no longer there. I run over the mosaic tiles along the entryway. I can feel she is close, but a figure stands in the middle of my track. Eyepatch’s entire face shifts the moment he sees me approaching.
No one will stop me from seeing Nel. My muscles tense with the anticipation of violence.
“What are you doing here?” the silver-armored knight asks, unfazed by my threat.
If he insists on being an obstacle, then so fucking be it.
The dull white walls of this building could use some scarlet paint.
“Calm down, Aelf. I was with him,” Red’s voice resounds from behind me, mildly breathless from the chase.
“He is forbidden from wandering the town,” Eyepatch says with little to no emotion. He draws out his long sword from its scabbard. I don’t have time to entertain this one-eyed knight’s horse shit.
“We were having drinks earlier,” Red continues in his easy manner. “I think it’s a good exposure. People need to get used to his presence eventually.”
Eyepatch trains his icy blue eye on me. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“He’s here to see his wife.” The crimson cloak knight decides to become my mouthpiece for the day and talks on my behalf yet again.
Wife.
I love that word. It makes Rhianelle sound so perfectly mine.
“Council is over for the day. Let him accompany her to the tower,” Red suggests to his fellow knight. “You and I have to see the bodies in the morgue anyway.”
Eyepatch has that look again as if he’s contemplating of putting an arrow through my chest or my throat, perhaps both.
I stare right back at the fucker.
But something strange happens. A subtle change in Eyepatch’s features and he sheathes his sword.
“If you hurt her, I will break every bone in your body,” he warns cooly, before stepping aside.
I scoff at that in my head. Bastard doesn’t know I’ve endured worse. I walk past him quickly with Red still trailing behind my back.
The knight stops in his tracks just as we reach the white pillar entrance to the town’s square.
“Apologies for earlier,” Red mutters politely with a smile. “My brother is a novice at throwing threats. Here’s what I would do. I would cut you into tiny fucking pieces. Some parts I’ll bury, some I’ll throw in the ocean, some I’ll just burn or chuck in a vinegar jar. It should be fun to see how you’ll regenerate then.”
Much better.
I leave him and head straight towards the girl across the piazza. Rhianelle detects my presence almost immediately. Her face lights up and I hope to hell it’s because of me.
“Svenn…” A smile begins to curve her lips before it ceases halfway as if she immediately scolds her face for reacting.
“I’ll take her to her room,” I tell the towering knight beside her.
Tall One’s gaze moves to me in casual appraisal before he walks away without word. Of the three males guarding Rhianelle, this one’s presence is the most tolerable.
Our promenade to the keep is met with curious eyes from all across town. Only a few brave children dare to walk up to the queen to present her with flowers. She entertains them, even though I know she’s exhausted. Half my mind simply wants to carry her in my arms and fly her to the room.
“How was your day, Svenn?” she asks, making small talk. After the inane chatter with Red, the few words spoken by Rhianelle are soothing to my ear. She talks of simple things, the weather, the books she’ll bring for me tomorrow. But I lap on every single word that falls from her lips.
A strange feeling accosts my chest. Unusual, foreign. As much as I need to feel her stretched around my cock, I have started to crave for something else now.
This.
Walking. Talking. Just being with her.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
The girl may not be a wicked enchantress, but she has utterly bewitched me.
“They’ve given me so many,” she says, struggling with the flowers she received in her hands.
I help her carry them and place some on the wreath of her headdress.
The simple act awards me with a beautiful laugh from her. But no matter how many times she smiles, her anguished look, the one that no one else can seem to see, remains on her face.
It’s there when we enter our room, long after she has taken her bath, and even as she prepares herself to go the sleep.
Rhianelle settles on the bed quietly, combing her hair quietly, not really looking at anything.
I don’t like that look. I wish she’d fucking talk to me. I can see her shutting me out again from her innermost thoughts, retreating into a place I can’t reach.
I kneel in front of her, and she releases the most delicious startled sound, her eyes widening. “Svenn?”
I move closer, but I don’t try to touch her. “Is everything all right?”
“I’m fine.”
I decide I fucking hate that word along with others of its kind. I’m all right. It’s nothing.
“You are shaking,” I tell her.
“I am?”
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I urge again.
Who do I need to kill to make you feel better?
“It’s nothing,” she says, the light in her eyes dimming.
There she goes again.
“You can tell me if there’s anything bothering you.”
“Why?”
I don’t fucking know either, but I try the word Red used earlier. “Because you’re my wife.”
“We’re not really together, Svenn,” she says.
That cut me deeper than a honed dagger. I maintain a neutral expression as if her words didn’t just send a whirlwind of pain through me.
A better person would have left her the fuck alone when she wanted space. I am no such person.
I rise and move to the long table. “Have you had your meal today?”
“I think I forgot…” she mutters.
There are seven hundred and thirty-six ways I can torment a person with a blunt knife. I don’t know how the hell I did ended up cutting the crust over her bread, buttering them with berries. I pass the plate to her.
“Eat.” I try cutting the edge in my voice so I don’t hurt her any more than I already have.
I watch her munching the bread silently. The best part is that once she starts eating, she doesn’t waste. Rhianelle will consume everything to the tiniest crumb and grain.
The girl has built a cold impenetrable wall from me. I remind myself that I deserve it.
“I’m done.” She plants the plate to her bedside table and starts her ritual of piling dozens of throw pillows on the bed. Once her little fortress is built, she slides underneath the blanket.
Rhianelle is perfect to the outside world, but she’s herself when she’s with me. I hold on to the fact that she trusted me enough to share this private room with her, to let me look at her without her mask. Not goddamn Eyepatch, Tall One, or Red.
Me.
“Svenn,” she calls out.
My heart twists. It’s not even my fucking name but it floods me with so much emotion every time she calls me that. I look at the pair of lilac eyes peering at me from under the comforter.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
I nod briefly.
Ever so softly, her eyes shutter close. I continue to watch over her, waiting to see whether it’s one of her beautiful dreams or nightmares that will haunt her tonight.
Nel stirs in sleep again, gasping. “Stop it…”
Her hand swings a punch.
Nightmare it is.
Half of the time I leave her be. The pillows around her provide enough protection. I don’t want to risk her waking up and seeing me touch her in her sleep. She’ll think I’m a creep and I’ll get kick out of her room.
“Go away…”
But her thrashing is more violent than normal today.
“Calm down, Nel,” I whisper to her ear.
I will have to restrain her while she wrestles with whatever demonic legion screwing with her in that night terror.
I touch her delicate wrist to tuck her back into the blanket. Her hand suddenly latches to me desperately. There’s no way I can free myself from her fierce grip.
Fuck it.
I slide onto the bed and hold her in my arms. She snuggles her body to me, nestling deeper into my embrace. It’s like she’s done this a hundred times in a different lifetime.
I feel her breathing against my chest, the warmth of her skin seeping into me. The new angle gives me access to her fresh, subtle scent.
She smells so good. Like water lilies and wildflowers.
“It hurts. Make it go away…”
Something inside me cracks. Every beast in me scrambling to search for whoever she wants us to destroy.
I wish I can take it all away. Every ounce of her pain, every shadow underneath her eyes. Maybe I should just snatch her and hide her away from the world.
“I’ve got you, Nel.” I push the tangle of silver hair from her face. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
I have truly fucked up before.
But I’ll win back that trust.
One day, Rhianelle will wake up and realize she was always supposed to be mine.