CHAPTER 17 - She Tamed It?

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The vylnir's massive claw, poised for a killing blow, hesitated mid-swing.

My breath came in sharp, burning gasps. Blood trailed from the corner of my mouth, copper-tinged and warm against my tongue. My blade was raised, my body braced for the inevitable strike that never came.

Because somehow... this creature that had torn through my men like they were made of parchment... had stopped.

Because of her.

My eyes flicked toward the princess, narrowing against the inferno's glare. She stood swaying, her body wracked with exhaustion, her hands trembling at her sides. And yet the beast, the same one that had reduced my camp to carnage, turned its monstrous gaze upon her and hesitated.

"How did you—" I started, my voice rough with disbelief.

Her knees suddenly buckled, but before she could fall, I twisted Briarvex just enough for a vine to coil up from the scorched earth to catch her, steadying her balance. My magic's presence made the vylnir bristle, its lips peeling back in a snarl.

"Dσ ?σ? ?υ??!" the princess suddenly called out and the vylnir paused once more.

I should have bound the beast. Now, while it was distracted, while its unnatural form trembled in conflict.

But I was enthralled.

The woman's voice wove through the smoke like a spell, speaking a language I had never heard before. The cadence was strange, sharp and ancient, reminding me so much of Briarvex's voice in my mind.

Then, as if the night had not already unraveled into madness, the princess staggered toward the beast. I watched in disbelief as she lifted her chin despite the frailty in her limbs. The vylnir's gleaming, reflective eyes locked onto her.

Was it listening to her?

"You can speak to it?" I demanded.

"I'm trying," she rasped.

A ripple of unease licked up my spine.

The vylnir shifted toward me again, its massive wolf-like body tensing, the shadows of its fur rippling like something barely contained. Its maw parted, rows of jagged teeth catching the firelight, glistening with the remnants of my men.

It was going to lunge.

My grip on Briarvex tightened, magic stirring beneath my fingertips as I braced myself.

Just as I thought the vylnir would pounce, another moved instead.

The princess.

Before I could react, her body crashed into mine. The air between us vanished as her weight pressed into me, just as the vylnir's claws slashed through the space where I had stood.

Her eyes, glassy with fever, met mine.

I could tell she was warring with herself. Though I couldn't tell what went on in that head at all. Her eyes flickered down to my lips before setting into a hard scowl.

And then—

She kissed me.

Not a delicate brush. Not a calculated ploy.

It was desperate. Reckless. A force of will hurled against inevitability. A means to an end I did not yet understand.

For a moment, the world ceased to exist.

The fire. The screams. The vylnir's guttural growl.

All of it drowned beneath the heat of her mouth, the taste of blood and ash thick between us.

I stilled.

Something about it felt... familiar.

Like a memory that had never happened.

Her fingers curled into my tunic, clutching as if to draw something from me. Yet there was resistance in her, a loathing that trembled beneath her skin.

I couldn't understand her actions at all.

When she finally tore herself away, she staggered back, licking the blood from her lips and then wiping her mouth as though she could erase what had just happened.

"What... was that?" I asked.

I sent a quick glance toward the vylnir who looked no less tame yet wasn't attacking either.

The princess hesitated.

"I thought we were going to die," she murmured. "If this was the end... I wanted to at least share a kiss."

Ha.

I could taste the lie, thick as the smoke in the air.

I should have called her on it, but she turned before I could speak, her fury now locked onto the beast that had nearly torn us apart.

"Yσυ!" she snarled, striding toward the vylnir as though it had personally offended her.

The creature lowered its head, fur rippling.

"Yσυ... ?σ ?σ?... ??ι???!"

Her words were fractured, almost broken, but whatever it was, it worked.

Impossibly, the vylnir yielded.

Its massive, monstrous form rippled as it twisted into itself, shrinking, reshaping. No longer a hulking beast, it became a sleek, fox-like wolf, low and bowing in submission. Its ears flattened, its movements cautious, even reluctant.

My mouth went dry.

She tamed it?

A creature so wild, so untamable that even Briarvex had failed to bend its will.

I blinked, unable to believe my own eyes.

As the princess turned to face me, I saw her stiffen, her gaze flicking to the crowd. Soldiers, servants, concubines — all of them were wide-eyed with disbelief.

Nothing about this felt right.

Just days after my creature escaped from beneath Clover Castle, a Clover concubine just so happens to be able to speak with it?

I never believed in coincidence.

My grip tightened on Briarvex, the cold steel gleaming in the firelight. I leveled the blade at the princess, my eyes narrowed.

She stiffened and the vylnir let out a low, guttural growl.

My jaw tightened. The beast was protecting her.

But how far would it go?

"How are you communicating with the vylnir?" I demanded.

Her hands lifted.

"I've read stories about creatures like this," she said, her voice trembling almost too perfectly. "The vylnir is ancient, born of a time when elves roamed these lands. I... I was worried you'd get hurt, so I tried pleading with it in Ancient Elvish. I'm so relieved it seemed to work..."

Worried? For me?

Did she truly take me for a fool?

"And how do you know Elvish?"

The question didn't come from me.

Ser Bastian Blacksteel stepped forward from the shadows of the burning wreckage, his armor smeared with soot and fresh blood.

My captain was thinking the same as me. I turned to the princess, awaiting a response. Elves and their ilk were considered myths to most. Even the existence of the gods was questioned by some. If not for the ancient tombs my family keeps, I probably would've doubted it all as well.

So how would a princess from an isolated island know a language thought to be lost to time?

"I knew an old man back in Drakfjord," she replied, shifting her attention to Bastian. "He taught me a few words. Though he's dead now. I thought... if there was a chance I could plead with the creature, for the sake of my sovereign, I had to try."

Her words were measured and careful.

Clever.

"Speak the truth," I commanded, holding my blade steady. "Or I shall be forced to pass a regrettable judgment. The vylnir was kept beneath Clover Castle. Did you set it free?"

She stiffened, her breath catching for just a heartbeat, before she masked it.

Surely, she knew the gravity of this situation.

If she lied, and I uncovered the truth, her life would be forfeit. If she confessed, the outcome might be no different.

As much as she amused me, I could not allow any threats to my empire.

I watched her closely, the gears turning in her mind. Then, when she finally spoke, her voice cracked with an emotion I almost mistook for vulnerability.

"What?" She clutched her chest, her gray eyes wide with shock. "You kept such a creature under Clover Castle? Do you care nothing for the lives of your concubines? If the vylnir escaped, we were all in danger! How could you do this?"

A flicker of uncertainty passed through me.

What?

Her surprise... Was it genuine? Or was she just a master of deception?

What if I misjudged the situation?

I knew I had a habit of expecting the worst from people. I couldn't let my judgement be too tainted.

"I never expected—"

"You never expected?" she cut me off, her tone sharp as a jagged blade. "You wouldn't care if any of us lived or died! Even now, after I saved you, you dare point your sword at me?"

Before I could respond, Ser Bastian's voice rang out, harsh and commanding.

"You will not speak to His Majesty with such disrespect!"

His sword was half-raised as he took a step toward her.

The soldiers around us remained frozen, their gazes shifting uneasily between me, the princess, and the beast that loomed behind her. The vylnir stood motionless, its eyes reflecting the flames with an unsettling sharpness, as if it could see right through me.

And the princess?

Her eyes had the same intensity as the beast.

"If this is how the emperor treats those who risk their lives for him," she spat, "then even pleading is worthless. My life was forfeit the moment I entered this court."

Her hands trembled at her sides — not with fear, but with a rage so pure, so unguarded, it felt like a living thing.

Interesting.

Most would be begging for their lives by now.

My grip on Briarvex tightened.

I had underestimated her.

Through our encounters, the subtle jests and games we'd played, I had silently tested her, probing the depths of her character.

Despite being new to my court, she perfectly donned the guise of a quiet observer.

A lesser-ranked concubine who understood the importance of drawing no undue attention too soon.

But I had sensed something beneath that fa?ade.

Raine Stjorme was no meek girl.

When our gazes met, she didn't look at me as a subject to her sovereign, nor as a woman to her emperor. No. She looked at me as something else — something dangerous.

And how I choose to handle that danger...

That was entirely my choice.

Do I discard her? Wipe her away like a fleeting inconvenience?

It would be so easy. A flick of the wrist, and a vine would pierce her heart before she even drew her next breath.

That was certainly the safest path...

Much safer than wielding her.

The moment stretched, thick with unspoken words.

The vylnir loomed at her back. It exhaled slowly, its breath stirring the smoldering embers at our feet. It did not move.

Was it obeying the princess?

If that was true, then to wield Raine Stjorme was to wield the vylnir itself.

A risk.

But the reward...

I let my expression soften and allowed my blade to lower.

"Apologies, Princess," I said. "But you must understand the position I am in. If you agree to a simple request, I can help you prove your innocence."

If I was to keep her, I had to first secure the court's favor.

"Request?" she echoed, wary.

I ran my fingers along Briarvex's edge, summoning a familiar magic. From the blade's surface, dark thorns curled into existence, twisting and writhing, shaping themselves into two perfect loops.

"I must ask you and the vylnir to wear these," I said, holding out the thorned wreaths. "Until we return to Dornhold."

Her eyes widened slightly as she stared at my outstretched hand.

Was she familiar with my magic?

My Briarbound knights wore these same thorns, wrapped tight around their throats. Only a few understood the true nature of the magic woven into them.

Her gaze lifted back to mine, and there was no mistaking what she felt.

Hatred.

"Very well," she murmured.

Without hesitation, she stepped forward. The soldiers tensed, hands twitching toward their weapons. She took one of the thorned circlets from my grasp and draped it around her neck. Then, she took the second vine and carefully approached the vylnir.

The beast had not moved, its fox-wolf form tense, its lean muscles coiled with restrained power. A low growl rumbled from deep within its chest, vibrating through the ground.

And yet, she knelt before it.

Hands steady, breath even.

It bared its fangs, ivory daggers inches from her face.

She should have been afraid. Any normal human would be shaking.

But instead, she spoke.

"T?? ραι? ι? σ??? ?σ? α ?σ????," she murmured, her voice carrying a quiet sorrow. "I α? ?σ???, ??ι???. P??α??. L?? ??."

That strange language prickled the back of my neck uncomfortably.

What was she saying? What if she was secretly ordering the beast to shred me apart?

I knew better than to trust a princess...

The vylnir's growl deepened, its massive claws flexing against the dirt.

But Raine did not recoil.

"P??α??," she whispered again. "I α? ??αρρ??... ?υ?? ?ι?? ?συ."

Something in her voice, in the way her hands trembled when she reached for the creature's paw, unsettled me.

The beast hesitated.

Then, slowly, it extended its paw toward her.

She slipped the vine around it, and my magic came alive. The thorns constricted, sinking into the vylnir's flesh.

The creature let out a sharp whine, its body rippling unnaturally as it tried to shift. But the thorns held it firm. I could feel Briarvex pressing its magic down, binding the vylnir to its current form.

Raine's hands hovered near its fur in a silent apology.

"I α? ?σ???," she murmured. "Forgive me."

The last part was spoken in Fayndorian.

Did she sympathize with the beast if she was asking for forgiveness?

I exhaled, pushing aside the strange weight settling in my chest.

"The princess has proven her capability," I announced, turning to my soldiers. "The matter is closed for now. Judgment shall be passed at Dornhold."

Raine stiffened at my words.

She understood.

No matter what she had done here, whether it was loyalty, deceit, or something in between, her fate was not hers to decide.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said, bowing. "I shall never forget your... mercy."

Ha...

I couldn't tell at all what she was truly thinking. It frustrated me more than anything else.

"Unacceptable!" a shrill voice rang out.

Lady Isolde.

She stormed into the clearing, her silk skirts stained with ash, her entourage trailing close behind.

"You mean to tell me this woman speaks to that beast — and you're not executing her for treason?"

My attention fixed on Raine's reaction.

Her face was carefully schooled into something unreadable. But her fingers curled ever so slightly at her sides.

At this rate, she might actually let the creature attack.

I turned to my Nightshade concubine.

"Stand down, Lady Isolde. The princess saved us from further bloodshed."

"Saved us?" she scoffed. "Orchestrated this you mean!"

My grip on Briarvex tightened.

"Do not question your sovereign again, My Lady," I said. "Or you'll face judgment yourself."

A flicker of fear crossed her face before she masked it. She lowered her gaze, her lips pressing together.

"I... I simply feel unsafe, My Love," she said. "Please have the princess and that creature locked away while the rest of us tend to the wounded."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Raine's nails dig into her palms.

I couldn't blame the princess if she had murderous thoughts. Who knew how long she had been tied to that post before I returned? The fact that she was withholding from ordering the vylnir to rip Isolde apart told me she at least had sense.

Good.

Sense was something I could work with.

"That is a reasonable request," I answered Isolde. "I shall have something prepared."

"Your Majesty," Raine said, lifting her chin. "May I make a request as well?"

My brows lifted slightly.

A request? When her own fate was still unknown?

I should have refused.

And yet, I found myself tilting my head.

"Speak it, Princess."

Her gaze flickered toward Isolde, cold as winter steel.

"I seek justice for the murder of my friend." She pointed a finger straight at the woman standing beside me. "Lady Isolde, Lady Cerys, and Lady Bronwyn flogged Talia Fernvale to death. I demand a trial."

A hush fell over the gathered court.

Then, Isolde laughed.

"Such lies! We merely gave that girl a light beating for her treasonous acts. This is slander!"

Raine's expression darkened.

"Light beating?" she echoed, incredulous. "Your Majesty, ask anyone. She endured one hundred lashes at Lady Bronwyn's hands and succumbed to her wounds."

A murmur rippled through the gathered nobles and soldiers.

Ser Bastian stepped forward, his soot-streaked face unreadable.

"What is this nonsense?"

"Ser Bastian," Raine said, her voice taut as a drawn bowstring, "now is not the time to shield your cousin from her cruelty."

My grip tightened on Briarvex.

If this was true... I could not let it go unanswered.

"Bring me the body," I ordered. "And be quick. The whole forest will burn if we waste time."

For the first time, she hesitated.

Her fingers twitched at her sides.

"Her body... was consumed by the flames," she admitted.

A flicker of triumph flashed in Isolde's green eyes.

"See here! The girl must have perished in the fire, and now the princess dares to slander your Nightshades." She turned to me, clutching my arm. "Please, see reason, My Love. You are not your late father."

My jaw clenched.

I could feel Briarvex lurking in my mind, invisible vines tightening their hold on my sense of reason.

For a moment, it took effort to keep my breathing even, to keep a hold on my thoughts.

Slowly, I exhaled.

"Let us tend to the wounded and salvage what we can from this chaos," I said at last. Then, turning to Raine, I added, "Princess, my guards will escort you and the vylnir to temporary quarters. Please understand."

I did not wait for a reply.

Turning, my tattered cape brushed against the ashen ground as I strode away.

The air stank of blood and burnt iron, but all I could think of was that kiss.

If she despised me, why had she kissed me?

My fingers rose, brushing my mouth. Then my eyes widened.

My blood...

It no longer coated my lips...

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