Chapter 9
TAUREN
Igrip the letter so hard it tears straight down the middle. “‘Alter the circumstances of her stay’ – what’s the bastard implying?” I crumple the paper in my fists.
“He knows how important she is to you.” Kennix scrubs a hand over his stubble. “Either he’s hoping you’ll hand over Dahlia at the mere possibility of harm coming to your sister or there’s some other reason Maeve cannot leave his palace.”
“Or he’s just a prideful evil git,” I snarl.
Kennix leans back against a pillar. “That is also true.”
We’re stood on a small balcony nestled into the high walls above the banquet hall. Below us, demons feast from long tables full of fresh breads, steaming meats, and sauces, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. I was on my way to join them when the letter arrived.
Now, I couldn’t stomach a bite.
Just the thought of Maeve locked away somewhere in Elheart’s palace, crying out for help for all these years…
My knuckles turn white on the balcony rail.
“I know you’ve rejected the idea before… many, many times,” Kennix clears his throat, “but it may be time to seriously consider a more drastic course of action.”
Jaw tight, I turn away from the banquet hall.
Uneasiness pulls at Kennix’s brow. I already know what he’s going to say before he speaks. “The salt barrier is merely salt-infused rock. While we cannot pass it in its current state, if we were to use our cannons and create an opening—”
“No,” I cut him off. “I will not risk harming Maeve.”
“But if we were to target a specific section of the wall, near the palace entrance, where there are only ever guards—”
“It’s still too much of a risk.”
“Then let me hire human spies to scout the palace and find out where he’s keeping her.”
“I said NO!” The feast below quietens at the volume of my shout.
I wait until the clinking of cutlery and chatter resumes before I let myself continue through gritted teeth.
“We are not barbarians. There is no need for us to destroy the wall. Elheart will create an opening himself when he returns Maeve to us.”
Kennix’s jaw hardens, but he knows better than to argue. He may be the closest thing I have to a friend in this castle, but he’s still my chief adviser, and I can choose another just like that.
“Write to Elheart and inform him we will not be returning his bride without a fair trade. A princess for Maeve is generous enough.” I clasp my hands behind my back.
“Of course.” He dips his head, retreating into the shadows of the balcony room. “I’ll draft another letter.”
“Wait.” I raise my palm. There’s an idea that’s been drifting in my mind, floating and sharpening ever since I carried a certain princess into my bed last night. “Send Elheart an invitation.”
“An invitation?” His brow creases. “What are we inviting him to?”
“My wedding,” I speak casually despite flames licking at my heart. “If Elheart refuses to give us Maeve, then I will have to show him how serious I am about claiming his bride as my own. Princess Dahlia will become property of the demon court by marrying me.”
Colour drains from Kennix’s face. “You wish to marry the princess? Are you certain, Tauren?”
“I am. Tell him the wedding will be held a week from tonight. He has until then to accept our trade offer. Otherwise, I will be claiming his bride as my wife and we will devise another plan to rescue Maeve.” I try not to think about how claiming Dahlia would feel, her small body under mine, the noises she’d make as I take her virtue.
Kennix nods. “Let’s hope Elheart sees sense and finally lets her go.” But I’m barely listening as I push open the door to the hallway. I’ve left Dahlia alone for far too long.
Besides, if our wedding is in seven days, it’s time I told my bride.