8. Eight
Bad.
Very bad.
It started with one drink with dinner. But the carafe was so big, and the wine was so good. I had nowhere to store it to keep it cold, so whatwas I todo?
And now here I am hours later, pacing my room, fuming because how fucking dare he? How dare he orchestrate a whole attack, acting like we were... friendly, just to catch me unaware. How dare he be such a coward? He could have killed me himself at any time, but instead, he sent someone else to do it?
I”ve nearly walked a path into the plush, dark blue carpet beneath my feet, debatingonwhat to do now that I”ve figured out his ridiculous plot. I should just confront him. Surely, he won”t be expecting me to barge in there knowing what I know. He”ll expect me to hide. Cower. But, no. If only the villains survive here, that”s just what I”ll be.
Using all my strength, I jerk open the massive doors, nearly stumbling when they swing further open than expected. Recovering my balance, Idemand tothe guards outside my room, ”Where”s King Kairon?”
They both turn to look at me, saying nothing before they face ahead again, ignoring my question.
”Take me to him. I need to speak—” I hiccup, ”need to speak to him right now,” I add, before remembering not to be an ass because they are not the ones my anger is directed at. ”Please.”
Still, they refuse to answer, pushing me further into my fury.
I sigh, anger blurring my vision. ”Fine. I”ll find my way there myself.”
They look at me again, refusing to answer, but at leastthey”re acknowledging me, I suppose.In perfect sync, they walk, and I barely hold back a sigh of relief. I follow behind them, and within a few steps, a handful of other silent guardians join us, caging me in.
The stairs prove to be incredibly treacherous and terribly cold. I didn”t even think to put on shoes before demanding to see King Kairon, but it doesn”t matter. I don”t need my feet covered to give that giant asshole a piece of my mind.
Walking through the castle at night is like entering an entirely new world. The stained glass windows that create such tapestries during the day paint nightmares with just thelight of the moon.Long shadows stretch from the wall sconces, and the distant waves crashing create an ominous warningto anyone who might enterhere.
This is the castle I imagined the king would occupy.
Dark, colorless, with shadowy corners that could hide any sin.
When I can tear my eyes away from the terrifying home around me, I realize we”ve gone even further down than I”ve been thus far. The air down here is wet and frigid, the floor nearly threatening to crumble underneath my toes. The only light comes from the candles around me, and I have to watch the ground to ensure I don”t trip and fall.
They finallycome to astop before another ridiculous set of double doors engraved with the mask I”ve seen only in my nightmares when preparing to come to this place. The two guards in front of me open the doors, and I storm inside withoutso much aswaiting for them to announce me.
”Excellent timing,” King Kairon says, pulling me to a stop. ”We were just discussing what we would be doing with you.”
My eyes dart around, looking for who he speaks of when he says we. When I spot Shan, I almost wish I hadn”t. His face looks so remorseful, and I fear what fate the king has in store for me.
Letting myself forget our audience for the moment, I turn my fury onto the king. ”You planned this.”
His brows raise, and he pauses, thoroughly looking me over before he speaks again, ”Shan, give us the room.”
”Your Majesty, maybe—” Shan begins, only to be stopped by the king”s right palm raising to silence him. ”Yes, sire.” He stands from his chair before the king”s desk, hastily leaving the room. But not before giving me one last glance, full of pity that makes me sickto my stomach.
The doors behind me slam as I meet the king”s gaze again. He seems entirely unfazed by my interruption, even less so by my fury.
With a wave of his hand, he urges me on, ”Proceed.”
I stalk further into the room, pointing at the guilty party. ”You set me up. Insisted we go to the fucking market, all to have some strange man attack me.”
He sits backfurtherin his chair, sinking into the black velvet and kicking one ankle over the opposite knee. ”And why would I do that?”
I scoff, ”To kill me, obviously.”
He raises a brow. ”I could have done that the moment you arrived.”
”Well, yes, but—”I begin, struggling to remember why I wassoconvinced he was behind this.
He waves his arm, gesturing to me to sit. ”I could have done it at dinner, too. In fact, I”ve had countless opportunities to do so since you”ve been here. And believe me, I”ve killed for far less than the attitude you”ve spewed at me every chance you get. Including now, I might add.”
I plop myself into the seat across from him, searching for my carefully prepared argumentsfrombefore the terribly long journey down to this dark corner of the castle.
”No. N-no,”I tellhim. ”You could have, but then you”d be held responsible by my country for my murder. You would be starting a whole war.”
”If you die while you have even one toe on my soil, I”m held responsible for your murder.”He stands, looking as restless as I feel. ”Why would I waste my time hiring a killer, especially one who couldn”t even get the job done properly?”
My jaw drops at how crudely he speaks of my possible death. Like he”s almost disappointed that my attacker failed at their mission.
”Furthermore,”he adds, walking around the massive desk and coming far too close for my liking, ”that man killed seven others today in his attempt to get to you. I would have saved myself the hassle and my people much heartache had I just taken care of you myself, assuming that was my goal.”He leans against the desk near me, towering over me and making me feel so incredibly small in the face of this fearsome man.
I glare up at him. ”All part of the plot. No one would suspect you would kill your own people just to rid yourself of me.”
With a boisterous laugh, he argues, ”Yes, they would. Because yes, I would. I would murder a handful of my own citizens if I needed to neutralize a threat. As I told you earlier today, I”d rather not.”He shrugs. ”But it really wouldn”t bother me.”
All the steam I had in my head storming down here escapes, leaving me with nothing but one last argument, one I already know will fall flat, but I have to say it anyway. ”Maybe you”d rather the blood not be on your hands.”
A smirk graces his face, making his beauty into a cruelty I”m not sure I”ll ever recover from. He leans slightly towards me, crowding me further into my chair withhisinfinitesimal movement. ”I don”t think you understand, my Elva. Perhaps I haven”t made it clear enough. I love getting blood on my hands. I relish it. If I wanted it to be yours, nothing would stop me.”
”Oh.”
”And, in fact, I have a vested interest in keeping your blood right where it belongs.”His tone suddenly lightens, letting me breathe again. ”Which brings me to what I am going to do with you going forward.”
Trepidation fills me as I watch him, my mind swimming. ”What do you mean?”
”Well,”he sighs. ”Someone is trying to kill you.”
My brows furrow. ”But your guard took care of him, I thought.”
”Yes, but he was just a hired gun.”He runs a hand through his jet-black hair, and against my wishes, I track the entire movement. The way his arm ripples and moves his blue shirt, the way his waves bounce back when he releases them, even the way his chest and shoulders raise as he takes a breath.
Wait. ”How do you know he was hired?”
”I asked him.”He smirks again, leaving no question about whether or not my perusal was obvious.
”You... asked him. After your guard...”I swallow.
”Killed him, yes.”
I know I shouldn”t ask. Shouldn”t let my curiosity get the best of me. ”You can do that?” Fuck.
”I can.”He grins, silently inviting me to ask more.
”How?” Godsdamn him.
”If I can resurrect a body before it”s been dead for long, they function pretty normally,”he explains. ”If it”s fast enough, they might not even know that they”re dead. Then I can control them, speak to them, whatever I need.”
”Wow.”I blink slowly, considering the implications of that kind of power. ”Do you do that often?”
He shakes his head. ”No. Making them remain mostly alive takes a lot of concentration. But it was necessary today. Though I didn”t get quite the information I needed.”
”So you don”t know who hired him,”I fill in the blanks.
”Correct.”He nods. ”He did not know who it was. They were anonymous, sent a small portrait of you along with a sizable stack of money and a letter stating that if you were not eliminated while in Oksangui, his family would be.”
”Shit.”
He hums his assent. ”So, because your death would spark a war between our countries, and now someone is working very hard to ensure that happens, I need to take... special precautions to keep you safe.”
The world spins around me, though I”m unsure if it”s from the alcohol, the king and his deliciously sinful scent, or the taunting lilt he”s using with such ominous words. I only barely manage to ask, ”Special precautions? Like what?”
He leans toward me again, and I wonder when he managed to get so close. ”You”ll be staying with me. In the royal”s suite.”Before I can argue, he holds up a palm. ”Yes. I know. Not ideal. But other than the dungeon, it”s the most secure part of the palace. Only one way in and out. Well, that anyone knows of.”
”No.”Suddenly struggling to breathe, I repeat it. ”No. Iwon”t.”
”Elva,”he says my name again, and I can”t help but be drawn into his gaze. ”Until we discover who is targeting you and why, I need to keep you close. Unless you prefer the dungeon. I certainly wouldn”t mind having you in chains. Might make it easier.”
I cough out a laugh, the absurdity of it all making me howlwith laughter.Hewatches me carefully as I cackle, trying to bring myself back. I cannot believe this is happening to me.
”It won”t be so terrible,”he assures me. ”The royal”s suite has several rooms, so you”ll have your own private space to sleep, bathe, and dress. It was originally for both a king and queen, so we”ll just be sharing a small space with a few seats, the breakfast table, a fireplace, and the main entrance.”
”And you are going to be keeping me safe?”I raise a brow in disbelief.
”I am.”
”Why should I trust you?”I ask.
With a shrug, he tells me, ”Because you have no choice. You can share space with me or the rat the guards have been trying and failing to kill for the last two years.”
”A rat?”I nearly shriek, causing him to fall into a fit of laughter now. ”I”m not living with a fucking rat.”
”Splendid. That”s exactly what I thought you”d say.”
Ihaven”tmoved from this spotinapproximately three hours.I”ve sat here and watched the fire dance through my swirling wine vision. The sounds of guards moving the few things I was permitted to keep into my new room ended long ago, and yet I can”t bring myselfto go inthere.
Two days. Everything I planned so carefully for years has fallen apart in two days. This was supposed to be simple.
I was supposed to negotiate this peace treaty and sign the most significant peace and trade agreement ever in the history of our world. And now I”m sharing a room with The Horned King himself, hiding from some mystery person who wants me dead for some mystery reason, and yet I”ll still have to stand in front of all the dignitaries of our continent, advocating for this agreement.
A weight drops onto the couch beside me, and while for a moment I worry it”s the king coming to taunt me further, Raya”s voice instantlygives me comfort.
”Wine got to you, huh?”she teases, nudging me with a shoulder.
”That it did.”
”That”s alright. Happens to the best of us. Years ago, long before all this, I drank so much with my girlfriend that we…”she pauses in thought. ”Well, I”m not quite sure what happened that night, but the next morning, we woke up in a cell with a wild pig, a quartet band, and Kairon begrudgingly bribing the guards.”
A flash of something hot and poisonous fills my chest, gone as quickly as it came. ”You”ve known the king that long?”
She nods. ”As long as I can remember.”
”And he knew you well enough to pay your way out of a jail cell?”I laugh at the image of his cold, stoic voice asking the guards what on earth Raya could have done to earn such a fate.
”Of course.”She runsa handthrough her hair, pulling the wild strands from her face. ”I”d do the same for him, you know. We”re family. A dysfunctional one, definitely. But for a while, we were all the other had.”
”Raya,”the king”s voice suddenly appears behind us. ”Elva has no interest in hearing about all the times I”ve rescued you from your own foolishness.”
While his teasing is evident, there”s a tightness in his jaw, a tenseness that leads me to believe he”s genuinely rescued her from something far worse than spending a week in a drunkard cell.
”Are you kidding? I could sit here and listen to these stories all night.”Raya”s eyes sparkle in the candlelight at the prospect of telling me more sordid tales. ”But first, you must tell me one of the king”s more embarrassing moments.”
”YES.”She reaches a hand out to rest on my forearm, and I flinch, the involuntary motion unnecessary due to her gloves. While I”m grateful she missed the reaction, the king”s narrowed eyes make it clear that he did not. ”Okay. Ummm… Well… Fuck. Quite frankly, I can”t think of any.”
”Oh, come now.”I laugh. ”There must be something.”
Raya stares off, suddenly seeming a million miles away, before her eyes dart to the kings, then back to mine. ”I can”t seem to recall a single one.”
He simply shrugs. ”I do not have embarrassing moments. And if I do, I kill all the witnesses.”
At the cavalier reminder of who I”m supposed tobe sharinga room with, the last of the humor I was finding with Raya vanishes, replaced completely by the trepidation I was trying— and failing— to wash down with more wine.
With a sigh, Raya stands. ”If he”s standing here, that means it”s time for me to get back to work. Your bedroom is almost finished. You just looked like you could use a friendly face. Clearly, he won”t be any help in that.”
I catch the almost smirk he tries to hide just before it vanishes. Once again, that slimy feeling fights its way into my stomach, the toxicity of it something I”ve never felt before. It”s unfamiliar and uncomfortable, making me dislike Raya, though she”s been nothing but pleasant.
Easing her way into the room I”ll be sleeping in, she quietly gives orders to the maids already there.Though I can”t make out what they”re saying, it”s quite clearthatshe”sthe onein charge.
The king doesn”t say anything, and for a moment, neither do I. He seems more than happy to let me stew in angry silence.
”So, you and Raya are close.”Once again, I can”t keep my mouth closed against thethoughts running rampant.
His noncommittal hmmm makes me want to throw something at him. Barely containing an eye-roll, I finally look up to find my new roommate already looking at me.
”You flinched,”he says, to which I repeat his infuriating hmm from before. ”Why?”
I dig my nails into my palm to calm my nerves, this being a conversation I”ve had countless times before. A semi-lie that sits on my tongue at all times, waiting to be unleashed. ”I already told you. I have a difficult time with physical contact.”
He tilts his head slightly. ”I thought it was only in large crowds.”
”It”s not.”
”I see.”He continuesto lookat me, his intensityseeming to lookright through me.”And when you dress? Does touch bother you then?”
”I do not let anyone help me dress.”
His voice falls into a taunting lilt, his eyes filling with that fearsome fire again. ”And when you undress?”
A laugh I can”t contain escapes me then. ”I don”t allow anyone to help me do that either.”
”I find that hard to believe,”he pushes, pressing buttons I didn”t even know I possessed. ”You”ve never let someone undress you?”
Suddenly, I find that looking into the actual flames in front of me is less scalding than the eyes of the man standing behind me. The double meaning in his words doesn”t escape me, and part of me wishes to run and hide, but I can”t deny I feel a powerful, drugging sort of pleasure from the way he seems to crave my answer to his question. With confidence I certainly don”t feel, I confess, ”I”m perfectly capable of undressing myself, Your Majesty.”
Dear every god in existence, please forgive me for not-so-subtly insinuating to The Horned King that I pleasuremyself. It”s not something to be ashamed of, but still, my cheeks heat.
After a moment”s pause, one that seems to hold all the air in the room captive, he chuckles. ”That I do believe.”The dark sound walks the line between sinister and seductive, sending goosebumps up my arms that I wish I could blame on the cold, but if anything, it is blazing hotinhere.
”Raya seems to have taken a liking to you,”he changes the subject, freeing me from my mortification.
”She”s been wonderful.”I add, ”Certainly easier to get along with than some occupants of this castle.”
He smirks, sitting in the armchair just barely within my peripherals, admitting, ”She has always been the more charming of the two of us.”
Disbelief fills me. ”You had every person at that market charmed today.”
”Yes, but none of them knew me.”He shrugs. ”Not that it matters. I”ve never set out to be liked or charming. I”ve always known that, above all else, I had to be a great leader. And great leaders cannot also be great confidants. Not to everyone, anyway.”
Why do you need to be a great leader? Why not someone else?The question echoes in my mind, but I”m uncertain he would answer and even less certainthat Iwant him to.
”And you?”he asks me.
”And me what?”
”Do you wish to be well-liked? Or to be a leader?”
I think about his question for a moment, unsure how to answer without revealing my unique perspective on being liked and disliked by others. ”I like to think the two go hand in hand. If people like me, they want to listen to me.”
”You might like to think that, but what do you actually think?”He sinks further into his chair, one leg draping over the other so casually, as if we are two friends sitting together for drinks and not two enemies-turning-allieswho”vebeen shoved together by some cruel master of fate.
”I think the sad reality is that it doesn”t matter if people like you. Liking, loving, hating, it”s all so… inconsistent.”I close my eyes, the dancing colors behind my lids making me dizzy. ”It can change from one moment to the next without warning. The only thing that matters is if people respect you. And unfortunately, some people don”t respect anyone.”
”Like me,”he states,his tonewarning me to be careful how I respond.
I peek open one eye to see him looking at me, watching me closely. ”I wasn”t thinking of you at all, King Kairon. I don”t know you well enough to make a judgment like that.”
A guard hands him a drink, anddistantly,I wonder if I somehow missed him asking for one.
So swiftly, his tone falls back into the cold, disinterested mask he wears as armor. ”You seemed more than comfortable making judgments when you first arrived.”
With a scoff, I argue, ”You killed our messengers. Saying you don”t respect us is not the same as saying you don”t respect anyone.”
”Fair enough.”I can tellthat theconversation is over even before he stands, taking his drink with him. ”I must retire. I”ll see you in the morning for breakfast. We”ll have all of our meals right here unless I”m entertaining or our fellow delegates are joining us.”
I groan and let my head fall back against the seat behind me again. I didn”t need the reminder of the rest of our neighboring countries” talking heads coming, but godsknow that I wish for a moment I could have forgotten about the disastrous negotiations headed my way.
My mind wars with itself, unsure if the negotiations or the king”s hot and cold demeanor are destroying my sanity. Probably both, if I”m honest. One moment, he steers our conversations into inappropriate, sordid corners, and the next, I fear one wrong word will relieve me of my life before I can beg for mercy.
After a loaded, silent moment, his footfalls begin, heading toward his sleeping chamber. His steps grow quiet, and I barely hear the click of his bedroom door, which finally seals him away from me, allowing me my first unhindered breath since he walked into the room.
I stumble into the room, nearly falling to the floor due to shock. It”s as iftheypicked up my sleeping chamber and transported it here, down to the configuration of each gorgeous pillow. Everything is arranged here so perfectly and beautifully that I want to scream.
I hate how spotless it is, how it looks like it was created just for me. It”s so pristine, so fucking clean, it”s making my head hurt. I need something to look as disheveled as I feel.
With a silent scream, I rip all the beautiful pillows off and throw them behind me,followed by thelayers and layers of silken sheets, pulling them until they”re halfway draped onto the floor, leaving only a single blanket and pillow.
While it isn”t nearly enough, and I half consider tipping over a candle, my energy is drained, washed away by the wine and the horrific events of the day.
By some miracle, Imanage topour myself into what remains of the bed. I bury my face into the pillow, finally letting an earth-shattering scream escape me. My fury, my frustration, my grief for the lives lost today, I pour everything into this small soft lump of comfort, knowing that in the morning, I”ll need to hold myself together again.
But for just this one moment, I can fall apart. I can give myself permission to feel, but only for this brief second.
Somewhere between my terror, my heartache, and my rage, sleep takes me, roughly shoving me back into the market, watching helplessly as innocent people are gunned down.Countless times throughout the night, I wake, I sleep, I wake and sleep again, and eitherway, their faces haunt me.