Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Tovi
Unlike áilleacht Castle, the curse had dug its sharp claws into House Nathanael’s manor and allowed no light to shine through. The black velvet curtains covered the windows in the grand dining hall, and the fireplace sat dormant, allowing a draft from outside to sneak in through the chimney.
Two candelabras lit the table. At one end, the black flame flickered across Lord Nathanael’s auburn beard and neatly cropped hair. After deliberating with her family and friends, Tovi had written to his estate, and to her surprise, he’d extended an invitation for dinner within the same day.
The haste unnerved Tovi—was it desperation or eagerness?
So, she’d brought Nadia and Yennifer with her.
Yen sat on her left, while Nadia sat on her right.
Down the table, Lady Nathanael shifted in her seat, casting wary glances in the vampyr and werewolf’s direction, while her daughter, Anastasia—her scarlet hair and olive-green eyes the only bright color in the estate—snuck curious glimpses towards Yen over the rim of her goblet.
“Tell me, Queen Tovi,” Nathanael drawled, shooting all three of them a rueful smile, none the wiser to the werewolf alpha and vampyr spy—Aramis and Cass—nestled in the forest surrounding his manor, lying in wait if anything were to go awry. “What other lords have you met?” he asked.
Tovi placed her silverware down. “You are the first.”
Not a lie. Flynn wasn’t a lord, and Tovi had no intention of revealing she’d met with the pirate captain. Nathanael might have done business with Flynn, but that didn’t mean he respected him—the lords of Drystan looked down upon her ex-lover, all because he didn’t have a title in front of his name.
The edge of Nathanael’s lips twitched as he fought a smile. “I’m delighted. Am I too bold to say there is interest in my army?”
Tovi sipped her wine, swallowing her disdain. This is for your people, she told herself, and you can protect your heart.
“No,” she said. “It’s not—I find myself very interested.”
It was dangerous to lay out her cards so candidly, but lords loved to have their egos stroked. She could practically hear his purr down the table. Nadia sighed, falling deeper into her chair while Yen picked at her food, the werewolf’s nose wrinkling.
He chuckled. “I thought you might. You were always one to test the other lords with your . . . rebellious ways.”
Lady Nathanael snorted, and Tovi raised an inviting brow.
“You’ve come such a long way since the early days at court. I can’t imagine how proud your mother would be.” Lady Nathanael sipped her wine, sharp eyes narrowing as she smiled like a cat before it pounced on its prey.
Tovi pushed back from the table, her chair scraping across the stone floor. She leaned back, crossing her legs in an exaggerated motion.
Lord Nathanael choked on his wine, while his wife blushed, averting her attention back to her plate of food. The servants straightened at the side walls, and their eyes skittered about, unsure where to look.
For Tovi wore leather pants, and she’d been sure to make sure they noticed. Skintight and forming to her muscular legs, she’d not dressed in the finery of a queen nor the layers of a lady.
This was her, ready at a moment’s notice to retrieve the dagger at her boot and slay a demon. Not some poised female sitting at attention. She was the heir by right, not by the lords of Drystan’s approval.
“I think my mother is rolling in her grave.” She raised her glass in the air as if the truth were something to cheer for.
Yen and Nadia smiled, and young Lady Anastasia bit her lip.
Lord Nathanael laughed and pulled at the cravat tied around his neck.
“Yes, yes. Very different females, indeed. It is a shame I can’t vie for your hand like the other lords or a son to match you, though”—he patted his daughter’s hand—“my daughter has made a match that has made me beyond proud, one that has allowed this business deal to even exist, my queen. For my daughter is to wed Lord Oziel, drawing together our two houses and interests.”
Tovi blinked. Shifted in her seat. Yen spat out her wine.
“I’m sorry,” Tovi reined in the surprise in her tone. “It was my understanding Lord Oziel was dead.”
“Ah, yes. The former Lord Oziel had a tragic passing. I believe bits of him washed up in Drystan Village. Lord General Oziel is the late Oziel’s brother. Shame the lord passed away, but because he had no wife or heirs, his lands and wealth were inherited by his brother.”
“General Oziel is a fine match indeed. Just the man for my fiery daughter,” Lady Nathanael said.
Anastasia had turned as rigid as stone, not with surprise but disdain. The announcement wasn’t new, but she hated it. Yen pressed her boot into Tovi’s, and subtly, she followed her friend’s line of sight.
A soldier, high ranking by his armor, stood in the corner of the dining hall. Eyes ahead, jaw pulsing. He didn’t move a muscle, but Tovi caught the uptick of his heart rate and the slight pop of his knuckles as he fisted his hands behind his back.
Something passed between Anastasia and the soldier, and Tovi noted it for later.
“Will I meet General Oziel?” she asked. “I’d like to know more about the man leading my potential army.”
Lord Nathanael smiled. “Oziel is on business rounding up more recruits in the smaller villages in the west at the moment, but if you’re ready, I’d like to show you the army I’ve put together and what makes it very special. Of course, I’d prefer this to be between queen and lord.”
Tovi rose out of her seat, giving permission for the others to stand as well. “Lead the way.”
“Just know, Lord Nathanael, the last vampyr of your standing to insult Queen Tovi lost his head at the hands of a werewolf.” Yennifer winked.
The lord swallowed, and his wife paled. Tovi sent her friends a reassuring smile and followed the lord of the house and the stiff soldier up a flight of stairs.
It spiraled until it deposited them at a wrought iron gate leading to the roof of the manor.
The metal groaned as Lord Nathanael opened it for Tovi and ushered her to emerge into the night first.
She hated placing the two males behind her, but she tuned into her keen senses. Listened to their hearts. Smelled their sweat. Even, cool. Aside from an excited thump, thump from the lord, neither gave any sign they’d hurt her.
Tovi sighed and set her shoulders back, and as she breathed in the night air, the sound of laughter, song, and metal clanging buzzed in the distance.
“Come, come,” the lord said, gesturing to the balcony overlooking the back half of his lands. “Here is the legion you need, my queen.”
Anticipation thrummed through Tovi. Her left hand itched for the dagger at her boot, the other tight and ready to defend if need be, but she grasped the balcony’s banister for purpose and held back a gasp as surprise zapped through her.
Three thousand soldiers sprawled across a destroyed forest. Campfires, tents, longhouses, and training grounds dotted the land like a city ripe for war.
“That . . .” Tovi blinked, trying to make sense of how Lord Nathanael had successfully built such a feat.
“Twice the size of your brother’s forces, and his aren’t nearly as well-trained.” Lord Nathanael snapped his fingers. “Come.”
Tovi bit her tongue, drawing blood. His tone grated against her resolve, so like her demanding father in his last decades. The soldier strode over to them, bowing in Tovi’s direction.
Lord Nathanael gestured to the soldier’s armor, and that’s when Tovi noticed the small flecks of red embedded in the black metal.
“Bloodstones,” she whispered.
“Indeed,” Nathanael said. “You can take this legion wherever you wish.”
“All of them have armor like this?” The deposit of bloodstones Nathanael must’ve found had to be miles long.
“Yes, crafted into their breastplates and weapons.”
“Why would I have a need of an army that can fight in sunlight if my enemy is here?” Tovi asked.
Nathanael sighed. “This army was never intended for you, but your brother. Now seeing as he no longer has the funds to afford it . . .”
Tovi’s skin crawled. “You’re seriously only after money. Has it ever occurred to you that your wealth could help end the Blood Curse not bring more darkness upon Drystan? You’re fueled by greed.”
“Does it matter?” he asked. “You have a choice: pay a man who only wants your money or agree to marry a lord. You and I both know which one you loathe more. Greed may fuel me, but you can’t afford to be fueled by pride.”
“How dare you speak to me that way?” Tovi hissed, baring her fangs.
“I have the cards, a legion that can squash your brother’s claim to the throne within an afternoon siege.”
Tovi seethed, not daring to draw back her fangs. “I could have you arrested for treason. You used bloodstones without the consent of the royal family.”
“And then what? This legion answers to General Oziel, and he only answers to gold. You may not like it, but you need us.”
Tovi set her shoulders back. Need. What a dangerous overreach.
She sighed, playing the act of a bored lady.
“I wonder how much it costs to fund an army of this size . . . I bet your coffers dwindle by the day, but of course you never expected my brother’s empty pockets, did you?
I’d tread carefully, Lord Nathanael . . .
” Tovi stepped closer to him, peering up at his palish face and not buckling under his red-tinged eyes. “It is you who needs me.”
Nathanael narrowed his gaze. “Then I expect your answer come morning of agreement to fifty thousand gold coins, as I have no time to waste.”
The lord turned on his heel without so much as a good night or a bow. The commanding soldier, though, inclined his head and followed the lord off the roof’s balcony. Tovi faced the sprawling army ahead and released a pent-up breath.