Chapter 20 #3
“Your problems are smaller,” he growled. “And I don’t want to hear about this again. From now on, you will focus on your training and nothing else.”
“I’m not some mindless soldier, Mordric. You can’t order me around.”
My words caught in my throat as he closed the distance between us. Fury seeped out of his every pore. “Can’t I?” he asked in a low voice. “I am your king, am I not?”
I went rigid, fighting the urge to back away.
“You couldn’t even fathom the horrors I have to deal with every day,” he hissed.
“Surrounded by conniving shrews and their plots. Leeches beseeching me for more coin and more land, lest their favor be swayed by one of my enemies. All of them are prepared to put a knife in my back the moment a better offer comes their way. Waiting for the slightest fuckup that they can use for blackmail against me or each other. I thought that I could trust you at the very least, but then I find out that you were sneaking around behind my back after I expressly told you not to. Do you even have any idea what I was doing just before William informed me of your whereabouts?”
I scowled. “What is the seneschal—”
“Of course not,” he interrupted. “I was entertaining accusations that Viscount Cyril Harring, the sniveling wretch whom you’ve had the misfortune of meeting, has been plotting against me for months.
Apparently, he plans to rid Valen of first me, then Enhart, and then anyone who stands in their way until the crown passes down the line of succession to a distant cousin of mine to whom Cyril just happens to owe a considerable gambling debt. So much for fucking saffron.”
I winced as he hurled his tumbler across the room.
It hit the wall and exploded, crystal shards flying in every direction.
“And so,” he growled. “I was squirreled away in my study, as you put it, debating with my council if I should be sentencing Cyril and his fellow conspirators to death or not. The consensus, mind you, is that I should. Because if I don’t, people will die. You will die.”
My jaw snapped shut. Although our interactions had been brief, the viscount hadn’t struck me as being particularly clever. Irritable, yes, but not to this extreme. “I didn’t know,” I said finally, my voice merely a whisper.
He huffed. “You want to be on the council? This is what you get. This is court. If I’m not looking over my shoulder every day, if the people closest to me are not careful, you have no idea what could happen.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. I’d always believed that Mordric was beloved throughout the realm.
“I don’t know what to say,” I conceded finally.
His shoulders sagged. “Do you know how many times I’ve almost been assassinated?”
I shook my head.
“The first was when I was only eight years old. One of my father’s courtiers had appealed to him to dissolve his marriage, claiming that he’d fallen in love with another woman.
His wife was cousin to the Queen of Arathnus, though, and ending the marriage would threaten the political alliance between our kingdoms. When my father refused him, the courtier and his mistress hired an assassin to smother me in my sleep.
An incredibly stupid plan, given that I had been training with the Master at Arms for years by that point. The assassin was my first kill.”
“You were eight?” I asked, my voice hushed.
He shrugged. “Even as children, vampires are lethal.”
The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
“The second attempt occurred the night before my coronation. Poison in my wine at the celebratory feast. Not very creative, mind you. My family has been paranoid about poisonings ever since the same thing happened to King Sangrey in the year 703. The poisoner was someone I had known for a century and a member of the cult of Erondeth. He and his ilk were convinced that my coronation would usher in Valnar’s demise.
In the end, he was forced to down the entire glass in front of the other guests.
Not exactly how I wanted to begin my reign. ”
I winced.
“And about thirty years ago, I was sailing to the Florin Isles when my ship was attacked. Someone had bribed the leader of a well-known band of pirates. Their captain tried to use that information as a bargaining tool, just before he was gutted by my guards. Never found out who was behind it, actually.”
“We spoke about the Florin Isles,” I said. “You never mentioned it.”
He nodded. “I suppose I’ve become somewhat numb to it all over the years.”
My gaze flicked up to meet his. His expression softened, the tight muscles of his arms unfurling. “I only want to protect you.”
“I can protect myself,” I reminded him. “Thanks, in no small part, to you.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I swear, sometimes I wish I could lock you away like a damsel of legend. Chain a couple of wyverns to your bedpost so that no one could harm you.”
I rolled my eyes. “That doesn’t sound very practical.”
The corner of his lips turned upward. “I lost my temper tonight,” he whispered. “Forgive me.”
The anger and resentment that had festered inside me for hours faded as I recognized the pain in his voice.
The fear that came from guarding yourself for so many years, constantly looking over your shoulder.
I took his face in my hands, running my thumbs along the sharp edges of his cheekbones.
His black eyes fluttered shut at my touch.
“I forgive you,” I whispered, before pressing my lips to his.