Chapter 58 #2
Worry laces Rett’s voice. “The Witch-King won’t stop his pursuit until she’s dead?”
“I’m warning you now not to get attached. Marriage is one thing, but tender feelings are another.”
“Tabitha is different,” Rett says, deadly quiet, causing my heart to squeeze painfully.
“I’m not saying she’ll be of no use until the inevitable happens, but it will happen.
He’s been trying to kill her since the moment she became queen, and somehow, he captures her yet allows you to gallop away with the blood of his enemy?
Trust me, this isn’t over for him. He’ll follow her to the ends of the map to set his people free. ”
“She is to be my wife. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.”
“Think long and hard before you put your life on the line, and absolutely never trust her. She’s a courtesan, true to nobody but herself. It’s the way of her kind.”
“You don’t know her.”
“Oh, but I do,” she hisses. “I was supposed to be King Xander’s second bride after he lost his first wife—my dearest sister and her babe to birthing fever.
But instead of doing what was right, he secretly married that Theodora harlot after spending one bloody day with her.
She knew he was already betrothed, but she didn’t care… ”
“You don’t understand. Tabitha isn’t like that. She would never betray me. She saved me. You should have seen her in the Border Forest. I’m only here now because of her.”
“You act just like your brute of a father, stupid, weak, and in love.”
“Perhaps, but that’s still better than you, cold-hearted and presumptuous,” he says in a hollow tone.
Erah says, “I might be both of those things, but I’m still your mother. That is why I tell you the truth—what you need to hear.”
A slam of the kitchen’s main doors finishes their conversation. Rett’s boots stomp away. Shortly after his departure, Empress Erah retreats, gently closing the latch behind her.
The walls of my throat thicken with tightening waves of emotion.
I even gave her that damn nectar to increase her lust for me. She won’t be going anywhere.
Getting up, I trip and smash onto the steps, catching my fall with my burning palms as tears dot the stone. The unlit candlestick tumbles down the stairwell toward the underground harbor. Clutching my stomach, I hold back the rising sickness for the second time tonight.
The Witch-King won’t stop his pursuit until she’s dead?
On my hands and knees, I crawl up the remainder of the staircase and into the kitchen. Moonlight streams through the windows, illuminating me as I stumble and flee.
* * *
Rett’s gentle touch awakens me as the sun slices through the gap in the curtains. I’ve only just fallen into a half-sleep after hysterically sobbing myself unconscious.
Remembering every painful detail from last night slows my body movements as I sit up.
By the time I’m vertical, Rett busies himself, sidestepping my forgotten pile of vomit crusted on the carpet.
He strides to the wardrobe and selects a pink, sparkling formal gown with a sweetheart neckline and layers of skirting that require a crinoline.
“You’ll wear this,” he says, tossing the gown across the back of the settee.
“She expects us in the throne room right now, so dress.”
My puffy eyes struggle to widen, and my throat is hoarse. “What? Right this second?” I scramble from bed, trying to figure out if I want to scream at him or sob out a confession about what I overheard…
I rub my temples—my head throbs.
“Mother sent word before dawn. She plans to approve the invasion of Alexandria.” He clenches his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes showing his exhaustion. “You’re to have an audience before the full court.”
Everything is happening so fast that it feels like I’m spinning in circles. How could I leave him now when I’m so close to getting the resources that I so desperately need? I could finally do something to help Klara and the missing girls.
But at what price?
Rett stops in the doorway just as breakfast is carted in. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”
I nod as the goblin maid lifts the silver lid off a steaming tray of sliced ham, practically still sizzling, and duck eggs with yolks of dark orange—yet I can’t eat any of it. The scent alone makes me want to be sick all over again.
With a tremendous amount of help, I’m squeezed into the tightly laced gown by the time he returns with an outstretched arm. He takes one look and gives a strained grin. “You’re beautiful. Try not to be nervous.”
“I could say the same thing to you.” My guard is up, but my words are like honey despite my hollow stomach. Something glints deep in his orange eyes. I’m not sure how I will navigate this web of deceit, but I don’t have a choice. I realize this is what a slow poison must feel like.
Patting my hand, he leans in to whisper as we pass through the bustling corridor, “It’ll be over soon enough.”
After we make our way across the palace, the guards open a set of ornate double doors covered in ivy and hibiscus. They swing wide, revealing an atrium throne room filled with sprinkling fountains and blooming vegetation in every corner.
A robust guard announces, “His Highness, Everett Randforth Delamere, Prince of the Beast Realm, and Her Grace, Tabitha Rilea Metalla, Usurped Queen of Alexandria.” The unusual title hits me hard, but I recall my training and maintain a serene facial expression.
Empress Erah sits on a throne of twisted branches behind a web of hanging ivy and delicate flowers.
She’s terrifyingly beautiful.
And dangerous.
From where we stand at the entrance, a straight path leads to her.
Clusters of beastfolk and humans, looking bleary-eyed in the morning light, idle in small groups around various fountains. Curiosity rankles through their pillar-like stances as their laughter stifles.
What Empress Erah plans to say, she wants others to hear as well. I’ll have to be very, very careful, or else I’ll be bound by the tongue of court gossip.
My teeth grind as we march past the watching eyes, all the way to Erah’s throne. Rett braces my arm with his hand under mine—a demonstration to show these people that he controls me.
There’s no getting out of this now.
I’ll be like Princess Cliodna, forced into a marriage for the deal’s sake—for my kingdom—to have influence—to have a voice.
Rett releases me and swoops into an arching bow, embellishing it for his mother.
He peers up at her from his bent form and grins through his flopped-over hair.
Her amber eyes flicker with annoyed amusement as he straightens and gestures over to me.
Dropping into a curtsy, I tilt my head, leaving no room for disrespect.
Rett’s hand slips around mine as he pulls me to attention.
An intricate, golden crown crusted with emeralds rests on Erah’s flowing burgundy hair. Beneath her show of wealth, her eyes pierce me like razors, finding tender flesh as I hold my posture despite her revelations from last night slicing under my skin.
She flashes a white, toothy smile. The folds of her gold gown spread like a fan as she sits on the edge of her throne to study us closely.
Taking in every detail, she says, “My son brought home such a cute stray, don’t you think?
” Her commanding voice carries across the room.
The courtiers inch closer, their eyes wide. They snicker as if on command.
Not hesitating, Rett booms, “With your support, we wish to win back Alexandria.”
“Dreadful business. Her kingdom,” Erah softly croons. “I hear their new queen has already fallen with child. They waste no time in creating heirs, do they?”
Time slows down.
Klara is pregnant?
My throat tightens as I imagine the worst. When I think of how she couldn’t fight off Balor—how I wasn’t there for her.
“If I had a guarantee through a Bonding Ceremony, I might consider this risk.”
And there it is.
My future, set in stone.
If I decline, I lose the armies and war power to save Klara. It will become impossible to find out why her father is kidnapping women across the realms, and Klara will be forced to keep having children by Balor.
I won’t be able to help anyone—let alone myself…
“You have my guarantee.” My voice echoes in the hall. “I’ll perform the bonding if you agree to free Alexandria from those who usurped it.”
Erah leans closer and declares, “Then it’s a bargain. The Bonding Betrothal will be held this very night, and the Bonded Matrimony will commence at next daybreak.”
Rett interjects, “Couldn’t the wedding be held next month so we can properly celebrate and feast?”
“I think it’s best not to wait.”