11. Eleven
”You having fun?” Raya asks, setting my lunch before me in the library, pulling me from last-minute preparations and note-taking. I don”t answer her question, nor wonder why she asks it. ”You were smiling. I doubt it”s because of the history of horticulture in Suva. What did you do?”
”I scared Elva,” I admit. ”Dropped a corpse in front of her.”
”Kairon.”She laughs. ”You can”t do that. She doesn”t know that most of your staff are already dead. She”ll believe that you actually killed someone.”
”It”s better that she does.”I finally look up at my friend. ”She can”t be trusted, Raya. Her fear keeps her in line, keeps her from exploring where she ought not to, and keeps her from asking questions sheshouldn”t.”
”Keeps her from trying to get to know you, you mean.”
I groan. ”Raya, don”t start.”
”Oh, give me a fucking break, Kai,”Raya scoffs, sitting beside me and kicking her feet onto the table. ”You were watching her sleep. You might not be ready to admit how deep your obsession already goes, but it”s obvious to anyone with eyes. Even Shan has noticed.”
Fuck.
”All the more reason to get this over with and send her on her way.”There”s no point in lying to Raya, butI”msure going to try anyway.
She nods in thought. ”Is that why I”m planning a ball for three weeks from now instead of next weekend when treaties are supposed to be finished?”
”You know as well as I do nothing is going to be done by then. If anything, by then will be when each of us are ready to rip each other”s throats out.”I mayas wellbe having this conversation with myself in my head.I already know what she”ll say.
”There”s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with her, you know.”She looks at her manicured hands to dull the edge of the blades she”s throwing at me. ”This is the most alive you”ve looked in years.”
”She”s Rhyman.”I run both hands through my hair. ”She believes everything they”ve ever taught her about our people, the fair folk, the witches. I can”t trust her enough to spend time with her. She”ll ruin everything with her allegiance to her country.”
With a shrug, she suggests, ”So teach her. You”ve given yourself more than enough time to do so.”
”There”s no guarantee that she would listen.”
”There”s no guarantee that she won”t. She”s been nothing but kind to me, even offering to clean up after herself, which is more than I can say for any other guest that”s ever stayed here.”She stands.”I”mjust saying, givethe girl a chance.She might surprise you.”
She already has.
With a mock bow, Raya exits, off to prepare for the mess I”ve signed us all up for. The one I half-expected not to include a Rhyman spokesperson at all.
While we won”t be having any negotiations today, it might be even more critical to Elva that it goes well. First impressions and all that. She knows she”s fighting an uphill battle, but she doesn”t seem to know just how deep her ignorance about our neighbors goes.
She believes the lies that the witches are evil.
That anything in our world is.
The belief in something being evil instead of just that everyone fights for survival is such a Rhyman concept. It allows them to believe themselves inherently better than everything and everyone else and gives them an excuse to do the things for which they would condemn others.
All in the name of good and evil.
That”s why she”s so afraid of her own wickedness. It is as if being imperfect is somehow bad instead of being the thing that makes her so stunning. The violent red her face turns when she”s angry, the tangles and wildness the humidity brings out in her wavy hair, the smattering of freckles across her cheeks. All things that lend to her chaos and beauty. And yet she insists on sleeking that hair back so tightly into place that it looks painful and using some cosmetics to turn herself into a colorless painting instead of a person.
All those thingsare going tomake the people she meets today like her exponentially less.Well,aside from King Colm, he believes that women should be silent works of art.Him liking her will end in disaster. He”s always searching for another doll to add to his collection, and Elva”s naivety, coupled with his misleading, innocuous demeanor, will make her a prime target.
He”ll be first to arrive today to demand the room he believes he is owed. I”m tempted to refuse him, if only because I want to piss him off and make him sloppy so he”ll let his true nature slip through the cracks of his carefully crafted facade. But if he shows his true colors, that might make Elva a bigger target, and why the fuck would I care if she”s more of a target? I was considering killing her not two days ago.
I can”t kill her, but Ovoor said nothing about letting the King of Fastid have her.
Even as the thought enters my mind, I know I won”t allow it. Murder is acceptable, but something like that is too despicable for even me to consider. I groan at the thought that I”m going to be stuck protectingherfrom that disgusting beast of a man even while I”m trying to manipulate him into showing his true self to her.
One of the servants alerts me that Colm”s caravan is pulling into the castle gates, and I stand to don my Horned King visage. The stale scent of old bone and rust from years of blood sprayed across my cloak brings me a sense of violent comfort. In this helm, I am not Kairon, the poor orphan raised in the streets, learning my powers the hard way.
I am The Horned King. The myth of a man feared from here to the barren desert. Untouchable, even to the most powerful, the witches and the Syrens.
Elva hasn”t seen this side of me yet, and I”m almost giddy with excitement at how she”ll respond. Terrified, surely.ButI”malmost certaintherewillbe something else, too.Something deep inside her that will frighten her even more than I do. I wonder if she”ll spend the day imagining me taking her over and over in the same visage that”s haunted her nightmares.
I certainly will.
Already, I find myself imagining those big, golden-green eyes, wide with fright and exhilaration, the reflection of my helm in them while I make her fall apart around me, so wet and hot, pulling me deeper and deeper inside of her perfect cu-
I don”t have time for this.
I need to focus. The Horned King will be far less daunting walking around with a hard-on. And if Shan notices me lost in reveries of our houseguest... I”ll have to actually kill him. He can”t have that kind of power.
I rip the tattered red cloak from the table and lift it over the antlers, letting it settle onto my head and shoulders. Yet another reason I must put this on with no witnesses. The tedious task of getting the individual holes over each tine in the antler is an absolute pain in the ass.
But once done, I am my shadow self once more, ready to inflict whatever damageneed beto protect my kingdom.
According to my staff, Elva has spent the morning hiding in her room and has even requested that lunch be served there. I conceded, but why, I”m not sure. I only know that she needs this time sequestered to prepare for the bombardment of new faces coming.
A knock sounds on the library door, followed by Shan peeking his head in. ”Farhan is here. Already barking orders at staff.”That much I had gathered already. ”Demanding the room he”s stayed in before.”
I sigh, the sound muffled through the helm. ”Let him have it. It matters not, and it”ll keep him from being quite as much of a colossal prick.”
He nods, giving me a once-over.Hehates this costume I wear and fears it as much as the rest of them—as he should, I suppose.I”ve considered killing him, adding his blood to the collection this cloak has amassed over the years, no less than twice already today. Without another word, he disappears from view before I can consider it again.
Elva finally exits her room, and I watch every step through the eyes of the guards protecting her. She eyes them warily, unnerved by the way they move in perfect synchronization. She knows that there”s something decidedly wrong about them, but she hasn”t accepted what her instincts already see. Almost nothing in this castle is as alive as it seems.
I consider letting her meet the King of Fastid alone, but that”s too cruel even for me.
Swiftly, I leave the comfort of my library behind, stalking through the haunted halls until I reach the main entryway. Farhan spots me, a tense, forced smile overtaking his red face.
”Your Majesty!”he booms, bumbling towards me and holdingouta hand to shake.
”Colm,”I greet, denying his hand and staring down at him.
He clears his throat, stowing his hand in a pocket. ”Your home is as beautiful as always. Thank you for hosting us.”His traveling clothes are always opulent,the typebetter left to grand dinners and galas. A soft undershirt of purple, pants, and a jacket dyed the brightest, most hideous green. Everything is so pristinely pressed that he must have changed into themjustbefore arriving, ever the performer.
”Of course.”Nothing in this world could convince me to travel to another country, so, of course, I”m hosting. The added benefit of every guard and servant being an extra pair of ears is simply a coincidence.
”And everyone else? The girl from Rhyma?”His tone is light and casual, but nothing can hide the snake-like twist of his lips in a smile.
”I”m sure she”ll be down any moment,”I tell him, watching as she turns the wrong way, only to be corrected by a guard.
His brows pinch in confusion for the smallest of seconds, so quick I almost miss it before it smooths, replaced by his jovial grinonce more. ”How lovely that Rhyma finally decided to grace us with one of their own. I myself have grown tired of their self-important ways.”
I offer a non-committal mmm, not willing to partake in this particular conversation with him.
When Elva turns the corner at the top of the stairs, her eyes meet mine, and she freezes. Even from here, I can see the rapid, large intakes of breath that rack her frame. She doesn”t even see the balding, atrociously dressed man beside me. She sees nothing but the monster she”s learned for years to fear. Her pretty pink lips are parted, that bottom lip so pouty as her jaw falls, and I long to bite it until I can taste her blood.
I”m lost in her once again until fucking Colm ruins the moment. ”Ah, you must be Elva.”
”Miss Aistin,”I correct him, hatingthe wayher name sounds on his tongue.
”Right. Of course.”He barely glances at me, but the threat of addressing her improperly lands all the same. ”Miss Aistin. I wasn”t sure you”d be joining us.”
Finally, she breaks her stare, looking at him for the first time. She narrows her eyes almost imperceptibly. Her voice remains calm and cold, ever the queen in her own right. ”Why wouldn”t I be?”
”Well,”he chortles. ”We weren”t sure if Rhyma would ever be willing to send one of their own down here to join the rest of us in these meetings.”
If it”s a surprise to her that we do this regularly, she doesn”t show it. She laughs, a frilly, false sound to put Colm at ease. ”Well, here I am. Hopefully, things between us all can go smoother than they have in recent years.”
”I”m sure they will,”I comment. I”m quite sure that they won”t, but Elva needs this to go well, and I need Farhan to stop fucking looking at her like that. ”Shall we? My staff have been working all morning to prepare drinks and the like in the great hall.”
Elva reaches the bottom step, only inches from me, unable to look awayfrom me. I feelmuchthe same, watching her in colors that complement mine so well. A waterfall of deep red cascades down her front, dotted with scarlet beads accentuating her magnificent breasts.What Idon”tsee, however, are the gloves Raya provided for her.
With no hesitation at all, she reaches to shake Colm”s hand. Fire fills my chest. This pompous fuck has been here two seconds and gets to feel her soft skin?
She looks up at me for the briefest moment, a challenge written across her face, before directing all her attention back at the man before me.
”How were your travels?”she asks him, beaming under his gaze and looking up at him like he is the most interesting man in the world.
Ignoring my existence completely, he tucks her arm into the crook of his elbow, guiding her toward the great hall. I”m frozen in place, watching them walk away. Watching her give him precisely what he wants. To be the center of attention at any given moment. He”s going to eat her alive, and I have to somehow stop it.
”Hello, little king,”an ethereal, haunting voice sounds behind me. Fuck.
”Onala,”I greet, unwilling to look at herquite yet.
”How are things?”another voice asks, sharp like nails on a chalkboard.
”Yes, how is our little Miss Elva?”the third, most familiar voice adds with a thinly veiled humor.
”Olath, Ovoor. All is well, thank you.”I try— and fail, to lose the grinding of my jaw. ”I hope your travels were easy.”
In the next moment, all threeof themmaterialize before me, replying in unison, ”Very easy.”
Then Olath speaks first, ”Miss Aistin and the old king seem to be getting along well.”
”Quite well.” Ovoor giggles.
With a terrifying smirk, Olath quips, ”Poor King Kairon can”t hardly stand it.”
I sigh, taking all of them in. Individually, they”re unnerving.But together, they actas ifthey all share one all-seeing brain, continuing a train of thoughttogether.It”s utterly terrifying, even to me. Ovoor, the eyes of the present, doesn”t seem like much.Only seeingthings as they happen. Her features are all rather forgettable, small, plain-looking, even, withdull brown eyes and an ageless face.
But the one that I can barely stand to look at is Onala. Every feature is so sharp that one might cut their fingers on her cheekbones or the sharp slant of her nose. Pure white eyes, seeing nothing and everything all at once, her smile the most terrifying of all. Every tooth is pointed, ready to shred anyone who might cross her.
”Ladies, please. Give me five minutes before the taunting begins, won”t you?”If I could reach my temples to rub them, I would.
”Poor little king,” coos Ovoor.
”Can”t have the only thing he wants,”cackles Onala.
”The only thing he”s wanted for himself in years,”cries Olath.
I groan, walking around them to follow behind my Elva and that dead fuck, King Colm.
”Don”t do it, little king,”Onala warns.
”Ooh, do what? Do what?”Olath and Ovoor ask together.
Onala answers with a laughing sigh, ”He wants to kill the other king.”
The three wicked sisters fall into a laughing fit, and I want to strangle them. If not for how vital they are to keeping the balance of this world, I would have years ago. And they know it.
Olath smokes into existencein front ofme, placing both hands on my shoulders to stop my forward momentum. ”Do not. She is more capable than you know.”
”I know she can protect herself,”I scoff, attempting to shake her grip off.
She doesn”t move an inch. ”Then let her.”
”You don”t have a great record of keeping your loved ones safe, little king,”Ovoor reminds me, turning my vision red.
”Don”t you dare,”I warn. ”I was little more than a child then.”
”And yet,”Olath scolds, ”you still carry the weight, even now.”
Onala sighs. ”And will forever.”
Their reminders send visions of the past careening through my head. The unending river of blood, the knowledge that I couldn”t save her from the impending death, that I could only watch and feel as the life tried to leave her.
Her death will haunt me forever; they”re right about that.
”The Suvan Queen will arrive within the hour, little king,”Olath tells me, shaking me from my memories. ”Until then, we will remain in our rooms. Miss Elva is not quite ready to meet us yet.”
”She”s going to be quite occupied with the king and the Fae for the foreseeable future.”Onala giggles as the three of them vanish, taking the only outlet I might have for my fury with them.
Olath”s voice floats to me from wherever they”ve gone. ”By the way, you need to keep a better eye on your stash of rotroot, little king. Someone has been taking things that don”t belong to them.”
My eye twitches as I stand there, completely frozen from rage, aching to rip someone apart with my bare hands to sate the bloodlust rising within me. A thief, a witch, a servant. Anyone.
But I already know it wouldn”t help. The only person whose blood will slake this need is Farhan for daring to touch her. She already knows there will be consequences for this. The taunting look in her eyes practically begged me to retaliate. She thinks she knows how far I”m already willing to go due to this fire she”s started beneath my skin. But she has no idea.
By the time she begins to understand,it”llbe too lateand she”ll be surrenderingcompletely to my touch, even ifit”sagainst her better judgment.