37. Thirty-Seven
thirty-seven
The stinging thrill of her magic still coursing through her, Neira stormed back to the royal wing. Her first steps had been measured, with Erqis striding along at her side and Emra following five paces behind, but as soon as they were free of the aristocrats still milling about the throne hall – all she wanted was to be away from prying eyes.
She stalked right past her own rooms, to Erqis' confusion, and the guard stationed at the king’s door startled at her approach. Neira took a deep breath, stilling in the doorway.
"You may go," she told the guard, who blinked at Erqis in bewilderment.
"Your Majesty, at all times someone must-"
"She will." Neira jerked her chin towards Emra. "Guard this door. Let no one in."
The poor guard almost tripped over his own feet in an effort to get out of the way as Emra, her face blank and mottled with black veins and her tall, broad frame moving with an unnatural gait, came to take his place.
"What is... that?"
Erqis clapped him on the shoulder. "Don’t worry about it. Take a break. It's fine. Queen’s orders and all."
Inside Erqis’ rooms with their décor, Neira clenched her hands, unclenched them, inhaling, exhaling. And then Erqis was there, his hands sliding against her waist from behind.
"You," he murmured, low and throaty with his lips brushing against the side of her neck. "Were incredible today."
"I was betrayed."
"It happens." Erqis turned her around with a push and a pull so he could look into her eyes. "What's more important is that you not only put those stuck up cunts in their place, but also backed up your threats by making an example."
"Out of a friend."
"Out of a murderer, Neira. Someone who killed people you mourned, people you avenged today. Someone who attacked you with the intent to harm." He cupped her face and kissed her, firmly. "Someone who will never betray you again."
He wasn't wrong. And subjugating the aristocrats had felt incredible, even if short-lived. "So much death – I need to feel alive."
"Good." Erqis grinned. "I've been hard as steel ever since you made them cower." Before she could protest, he kissed her again; slower, deeper, hungrier. Until she gave in, her fingers yanking at his doublet.
"I don't have the patience for this."
"As my queen commands." Erqis ripped open the embroidered jacket, buttons flying, and chucked it into a corner, followed by his shirt. Neira's dress was next, the delicate clasps no match for his fingers.
More.
She needed more; more devotion, more heat, more anything to chase away the cold chasm her magic had torn open inside of her.
She kissed him again, her breasts pressed against him, the hair dusting his chest teasing her nipples into high peaks; his hands delved into her hair, freeing a few of the twists and almost painfully tugging others… and still, she wasn't close enough . If she could have crawled inside him, made a nest under his ribs for herself, she would have.
Neira pushed her husband towards his bed and, once there, helped his fumbling fingers to tug his trousers down. Her own smallclothes were less of an obstacle.
Erqis dug his fingers into the cheeks of her ass with a groan, and fell to his knees to bury his face between her thighs. This time, she wasn't shy to take what he was offering; one knee propped on the mattress, Neira rode the king's tongue to a first, shuddering peak, her hand fisted in his hair.
More .
She felt drunk on him, on her taste on his lips when she kissed him. Erqis' hands roamed over her skin, squeezed her breast; he kissed her belly when she pushed him to sit, straddled one of his thighs. And then surprised them both when she hooked her arm under his knee, pulling it up to rest over her hip, tangling their bodies together while she sank down on his hard length. His cock was searing hot, thawing her chill from the inside out.
"Fuck," he groaned, leaning back on his elbows, his eyes hooded and glittering as he watched her fuck him, taking her pleasure the way she needed it.
Neira dug her nails into the back of his thigh, relishing the hiss he gave her. Her other hand came to wrap around his throat. This was the high she craved; this powerful man, ruler over so many realms, who had taken her life in his hands to do with as he pleased – brought low before her, offering her his throat.
She set a hard, demanding pace, barely remembering to let Erqis breathe every now and then – each time she did remember and loosened her grip, his own fingers closed around hers, tightening them once more.
His moans took a frantic edge and then melted into strained, desperate whimpers when Neira refused to slow down, even with his cock jerking deep in her core. She wasn't done; her orgasm began building low in her belly, endlessly slow, and didn't erupt until Erqis was grasping her thigh, fingers digging into the meat of it.
The world fell away. There was nothing but blissful nothingness, euphoria throbbing through her entire body.
Neira came to with her husband crouching over her, kissing her nipples. She was sprawled out in his cushions, panting still, and Erqis’ grin was wicked.
"My turn."
The candles had burnt low by the time Neira was free to rest her head on her husband's brawny chest, listening to his heartbeat slowing under her ear. This chamber still felt unfamiliar to her, as did sleeping in the same bed with another. It had yet to feel like home; with Erqis' sense of style much more garish than hers, all golds and purples and teals with big cushions thrown on the floor instead of proper furniture, Neira once again longed for the clean, tidy, elegant lines and muted colours of her old chambers.
Like everything he did and was, the king's bedroom was eccentric, overwhelming.
But she did like the way his fingertips stroked the back of her arm, the sword callouses rasping gently over her flushed skin. Liked, too, the way he got quiet and languid after he had her, too relaxed to needle her with words.
Liked, especially, how he hummed when she brushed her lips against his skin, close to his collarbone, where the hair of his chest tapered out. It was a low, gravelly sound that touched her frayed nerves like balming silk, and was often accompanied by a kiss to her crown. A balm after the stressful few days she had had.
She almost sighed audibly when Erqis inhaled more deeply and his lips parted. Trust him to ruin a rare, pleasant moment.
"Every time I fuck you, I anticipate the consequences."
"You mean the fact that you, very foolishly, bare your throat to me in those moments? Some might find the danger makes it more thrilling, you know." She hadn't fantasised about murdering him for quite a while, she realised.
"A child, Neira."
Neira snorted. "Not if I can help it." She patted his chest. "My courses run smoothly, don't worry about that."
When Erqis fell silent instead of quipping back at her, her thoughts drifted. Did he want that to be the outcome of their arrangement? He had only announced their betrothal to antagonise his nobles, and had only married her because she said he wouldn’t and he loved to prove her wrong. It had been one more little victory over his royal hostage.
As king, whether of some or all of Malvea, he'd need an heir eventually. Neira just hadn't considered she would be that eventual child’s mother, perfectly content to distantly raise an illegitimate one born to another woman once Erqis' eye naturally strayed – if she even stayed by his side long enough for that. Their game, surely, would be over one day soon.
Why did that thought tie her stomach into knots?
"Do you think of the boy sometimes?"
Neira blinked, startled from her spiral. "Who?" Only after asking, with a little rush of shame, did she realise who he meant.
"Your father's heir. I forget his name–"
"Ramin." Neira's chest tightened, the knots twisting into wild tangles. She hadn't spoken his name since she had left Brightmere, first because it hadn't been safe – and then, eventually, she had put him from her mind, which had been too full of other things to think about him often. Why bring him up now? "Of course."
"Liar." Erqis chuckled, sinking his hand into her long hair so he could tug her head back and kiss her forehead. "I wish you'd tell me what happened to him."
"Why would I?" She propped herself up on her elbow, looking down into his face. Erqis' hand immediately came up to stroke her hair back, twisting the dark strands around his fingers. His expression was vulnerably indulgent, perfectly affectionate, as if he was just this – just her husband, just the man who shared her bed, and not the conqueror who had taken her home by force and brought her here against her will. "You know all you need to know. What's done is done."
"You still don't trust me?"
Neira barked a laugh, but her derision wasn't enough to make his fond smile falter. A provocation, like everything he did, she was certain. "You must consider me an idiot."
"I consider you my queen."
"Let it go, Erqis." She pushed off his chest and rolled over to sit up, her toes sinking into the thick carpet, grounding her
"What are you afraid of?"
"I am not afraid of anything. I'm just not willing to spoil my own plans by trusting someone as unpredictable as you." A rustle behind her, and then Erqis' arm wrapped low around her waist. He kissed the small of her back, the beginnings of a beard making her squirm. "Stop that."
"Neira. Look at me."
She refused, filling a cup from the jug beside the bed and taking small sips as an excuse to not look at him. Erqis nimbly plucked the cup from her fingers and flung it across the room.
What are you –"
"Why is every conversation a fight with you?” His long fingers, damp with spilled wine, wrapped around her throat and pulled her back against his chest. “Do you crave me inside you that much?"
Neira hissed. "It was a stupid question."
"Which one?"
"All of them!" She pried his fingers loose, resisting the sudden urge to snap a few of them in half. "Why would I trust you? Why would I give him to you, when you would just use him to shackle me here? No. Unlike me, he’s free."
She regretted the words as soon as they left her lips.
Erqis had gone still, his expression stormy. He stared at her before he rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, the burnished brass of his curls gleaming in the flickering light. "That is not my intent for him."
"I don’t believe you."
"Don't you want him back?" Erqis asked, something like desperation in his voice. "With you, knowing he's safe just like you are, under my protection?"
"You expect me to believe that? To hinge his life on those pretty words?" And stay with you?
"I'd raise him as my own, Neira. I mean it. What do you want, a contract? A blood oath? You can have anything you want as insurance."
Neira stared at him, half-distracted by a single bead of wine making its way down her throat. "Why?"
"Because he's yours. And I want to make you happy, even if you'll never believe that."
"He's–"
"Your son. I know."
She recoiled as if he had struck her. Erqis' face went somewhat blurry before her eyes; Neira's head swam, and she had to fist the sheets under her hand to not teeter off the bed. "What?"
"I’ve known for a while now. You don't have to keep it secret anymore. I found your father's notes. And, listen, I know it doesn't mean much now…"
His words echoed, pattering against her like rain, but she wasn't truly able to comprehend them.
Her son. Her son ? Surely Erqis had misinterpreted whatever notes he had found. Ramin's face shone in her mind: his pale complexion, like hers. His large, dark eyes, the fine black hair – like hers, the features she had inherited from her mother.
Her mother, who had been dead for such a long time already before Ramin had been born. One day, he had just been there, as though he always had.
Where had he come from?
"…ra. Neira?"
When she focused on his face again, he looked panicked. Pained. Something dark crawled along the lower edge of her vision; Erqis' fingers had blackened where he gripped her arms, and a darkness was rapidly spreading along his veins, up his wrists.
Neira jerked back so hard she went to her knees on the carpet, reeling in her unchecked magic. "I need to… I…"
Deep breaths, in and out, one after the other. Every worry, every doubt and fear that she had suppressed ever since Brightmere's gates had been thrown open by those tasked to protect it unravelled, unspooling without control until she felt strangled by them, limbs heavy, head filled with the sound of winter storms.
"Don't touch me.” She scrambled away when Erqis reached for her again. “I'll hurt you."
"For the first time, I don't believe you."
"I just did!" She gestured to his hands, where the black had ebbed into a mottled grey. No permanent damage, she hoped, but no doubt it hurt.
It was her sudden worry for him that pressed against the coil of anxiety, creating a sliver of space for her to breathe.
"So hurt me. I'll take it, if it makes you feel better." Without hesitation, he folded her into a tight hug. "See? Don't have it in you after all."
"Don't try me."
It was easier to be calm with his arms wound so tightly around her, his warm breath just brushing her shoulder. They sat like that for a while, until Neira's frantic breaths had calmed. In the lull that followed, Neira realised how frozen she felt, as if her blood itself was ice.
It took a single shiver for Erqis to pick her up and put her back into bed, going as far as to tuck the thick covers around her. Neira was too exhausted to protest the infantilising treatment.
"Do you have those notes?"
"Ah, no. Why?"
She didn’t believe him. "I want to read them."
Erqis looked away, pensive. "Not sure you'd want to read what's in there, my love. It's better if you don't."
"I need to know." Neira reached for his hand. "Tell me what you read."
"No."
"I deserve to–"
"You deserve to rest, Neira. You almost lost your grip on your magic. Let's speak of this tomorrow." He gently squeezed her fingers. "Please."
Anger pricked at her, but Neira lay back again, and accepted his embrace when Erqis settled behind her. Sleep was a distant prospect with strings of thought tripping over each other in her head, but his warmth felt nice – and if he wouldn't tell her, there was still someone on her side who would.