Chapter 11 #2
His face flushed crimson from his brow down beneath the mask covering the lower half of his face.
He looked furious—whether at himself or at her for noticing, she couldn't tell.
If she were in a more jovial mood, she would have teased the ever-loving daylights out of him.
But she was not.
"You absolute fool," she hissed, her eyes blazing. "I was in a good mood this morning. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"
Ragnar's face contorted in pain, fresh blood seeping through his bandages and onto her floor.
Again.
"I stitched you up," she continued, volume rising. "Cleaned your wounds, gave you a sedative so you could heal in peace. And you repay me by trying to kill me? In my own room? Did your two brain cells die off last night?"
His hand shot up despite her weight on his arm, grabbing her wrist—the one holding the hairpin. His grip was weak, but he was determined.
"You're only this audacious because you don't know who you speak to," he rasped. "Ragnar Valthorne, Great Khan of the Valthorne tribe. If you kill me, my people will raze this entire kingdom to the ground. They'll burn everything you've ever known and feed your corpse to wild dogs."
Azul stared down at him, her expression blank.
Then she tilted her head, a scoff escaping her bemused lips. "Yeah, right. As if the Valthorne Khan would be this pathetic."
Ragnar's eyes widened, then narrowed with fury. "You—you dare—"
"Only a fool would try to impersonate such a great man." She pushed the hairpin's tip. "If you're the Valthorne Khan, then I am the princess you are to wed."
His whole body tensed beneath her. "I am the Punishment of Ukhel. The Undefeated! I have conquered seventeen tribes and brought them under my banner! I—"
"Oh, how impressive," Azul cooed, her tone so saccharine it was mocking. "Seventeen whole tribes. Yet you couldn't conquer a little girl. Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Valthorne? You have met your first defeat."
Ragnar bucked beneath her, trying to throw her off, but the movement tore his wounds further.
He gasped, face going pale.
"Stop moving," Azul commanded, though her tone remained eerily playful. "You're making such a mess. Look—there's blood on my robes now. Do you know how difficult bloodstains are to remove from satin?"
"Release me," he growled.
"Why? So you can stumble around and bleed out properly this time? Don't be ridiculous." She leaned closer, her hair falling around them. "Besides, you tried to kill me just now. Shouldn't I punish you a little?"
His jaw clenched. "I wasn't going to kill you."
"No?" Her eyes lowered from his gaze to his lower face. She'd been too preoccupied with her treatment; she had yet to take off the face covering he was wearing. "Let's see what you're hiding behind this mask—"
"Don't you dare!"
She winced at his volume. Her fingers pausing. "Why?" she asked. "Are you truly a criminal impersonating the Khan? Shouldn't I check?"
She reached out once more, but his body had gone rigid in a way that stopped her.
She held his eyes—anger, fear, and desperation, but no loathing.
She knew what it was to be seen at your worst by someone who had no reason to be kind.
"Fine," she said. "I won't." After all, it cost her nothing.
"Who are you?" he asked in a shaky voice. The adrenaline seemed to be wearing off.
"I told you already, didn't I?" she said, watching his eyelids flutter. He was struggling to fight.
So the sedative worked? He just has extraordinary survival instincts. She smiled. Not bad; her husband should be able to do this much, shouldn't he?
"My name is Azul of the Borjigin, the woman who owns your life."
"I don't trust you," he bit out.
"How sensible." She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't trust me either.
But unfortunately for you, I'm the only option you have.
Your traitor is dead. You're in enemy territory.
And judging by that wound, you have perhaps an hour before blood loss makes the decision for you.
Considering your circumstances, shouldn't you accept me as your ally? "
She shifted her weight slightly as she spoke, adjusting her position atop him. The movement made her robes slip further, exposing more of her shoulder and collarbone.
Ragnar's breath caught—barely perceptible, but she noticed. Azul's eyes flickered downward for the briefest moment, then back to his face. Should she laugh? She wasn’t sure.
He looked away sharply, jaw clenching.
A small, genuine smile tugged at her lips.
"What do you want?" he finally asked, rougher than before.
"I already told you. You owe me your life. A debt you must repay." Her golden eyes gleamed. "So, I will save you, no matter how many times you stupidly hurt yourself."
She started to lift the hairpin from his throat.
Ragnar's hand shot up, grabbing her wrist again. His other hand moved from under her knee to her throat in a mirror of their earlier position.
His hands are larger than I thought.
"If you try to poison me—"
Azul's expression shifted, something cold settling over her features. Her free hand reached up towards the small bowl on her bed—the one containing needles soaking in the sedative solution.
Her fingers brushed the edge and she knocked it over. The contents clattered to the floor beside them.
Ragnar's eyes followed the movement, confusion flickering across his face.
In that moment of distraction, Azul snatched up one of the fallen needles and drove it into the side of his neck.
His grip on her throat spasmed, then loosened.
"You'll live; don't worry, it's not poison this time. But try this nonsense again, and I will poison you."
Ragnar tried to speak but his tongue wouldn't cooperate. The sedative was stronger this time since it was a double dose.
His consciousness slipped away.
Azul remained straddling him for a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of his chest, ensuring the sedative had taken full effect.
Then she sighed, looking down at the fresh blood staining her floor, her robes, and her hands.
"It looks like I'm going to be late for that dreadful meeting."
The little snake slithered out from under her pillow, coming up to the neglected corpse in the room. It turned to look at her with pleading eyes.
"Can you eat that?" Azul asked, surprise passing through her features.
Yes… This person smells delicious.
She looked at the large man, then at the little snake. "Feel free." Questioning how it would swallow the man brought her no respite.