Chapter 8 Kailia
Kailia
“So how badly do you want it?” Cethin asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
Her hand dropped to her side, and she turned to face him fully. His hands were clasped behind his back, and his silver eyes were alight with something new. Something she didn’t quite understand.
“How badly do I want what?” she asked.
“Your arrow returned,” he clarified. “What is it going to take to convince you of my proposal?”
He couldn’t be serious. What kind of king made a random female he’d met the night before his queen?
An arrogant one who was used to getting what he wanted by any means necessary, she supposed. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised at all. She was well aware of what the male was capable of.
Kailia turned to face him fully, looking him up and down.
He didn’t shift under the scrutiny. Instead, he was still.
Too still. And looking at her with far too much…
something she couldn’t place. Social interactions and cues had never been her strength, but even with that weakness, she could swear his demeanor had shifted to something akin to predatory.
And that she had plenty of experience with.
After several moments of silence that the king appeared unaffected by, she finally said, “You want me to be the queen of Avonleya?”
“That is what I said,” he all but drawled.
Asshole.
“And you don’t find that irresponsible or problematic?
To ask a female you met last night to rule over your kingdom with you?
What if I were trying to kill you?” she pushed, her irritation continuing to grow despite her best efforts to keep it tamped down.
She knew better than to let her emotions gain so much control. She was trained better than this.
His lips tipped up into an arrogant smirk that only infuriated her more. “You can’t kill me, tiny fiend.”
That fucking name.
It was ridiculous, and she certainly didn’t want it to spread, which is why she’d finally given up her name when he’d been about to introduce her as such to his Hand.
“Stabbing you wasn’t all that difficult,” she quipped dryly, turning away from him. Her fingers curled into the hem of her tunic. She needed to get out of here so she could get out of these clothes and change into her dress.
He hummed in response. “Stabbing is vastly different from killing, wouldn’t you agree?”
She tsked in annoyance. As if she didn’t know the difference between the two.
“Something to say?” he pushed, and then she felt his fingers brush through her hair.
It was barely a touch, but it was enough to make her tense.
At least she didn’t reach for her dagger this time.
That had almost been a disaster inside the castle.
Thankfully Cethin had waved off the sentinels, or she would have surely ended up in the castle cells.
Pushing down every urge to do something violent, she took a measured step back from him.
He said nothing as he observed the move.
Thankfully, he let her set that boundary and didn’t close the distance she put between them.
She’d picked up on the fact he was intentionally pushing her to react, but at least he appeared to have some kind of awareness when someone was on an edge.
The king once again clasped his hands behind his back, his head tilting slightly while he continued to watch her. Waiting. Studying.
She hated being on this side of things, but she should have expected the sovereign to be well-trained. Not like she was, and certainly not in the same manner as she had been. He clearly had no issues with physical touch or reading social cues.
And he was still waiting for her response.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she finally said, her toes curling in her boots. Those needed to go too. “What kind of king brings a female he’s known less than a day to his side to rule his kingdom?”
“Plenty of royalty do the same, Kailia,” he said, and the use of her name was a little jarring. His features had darkened with the words, and she was pretty sure she’d struck some kind of sore spot with her last words. She just didn’t understand why.
“Many a prince and princess are betrothed upon birth. Some even before conception. Many never meet until it is time to wed and produce an heir,” he continued. He paused, those silver irises once again sweeping over her. “I suppose the same concerns could be said for them. Would you agree?”
“That doesn’t assuage the concerns,” she countered.
“Fair point,” he said, the new tension in his shoulders easing some. “Either way, that is not an issue in this case. Our…arrangement would make you the queen in title only. You would have no say in rulings or how the kingdom is run.”
“Yet I am to protect the people as my own? Use my magic to keep people safe that are not actually my people?”
His brow arched. “Do you want them to be your people? You are sending mixed signals here, tiny fiend.”
“No,” she snapped. “I do not wish for that. All I wish for is my arrow, followed by the freedom to leave this place.”
He moved then, taking long strides as he brushed past her, which forced her to take two steps to his one in order to keep up. As though he suddenly realized just that, he slowed his pace, leading her along the garden path.
“I answered your question. I think it only fair you answer one of mine,” Cethin said thoughtfully, gesturing to the right to guide her deeper into the gardens.
They’d taken so many turns and he’d distracted her enough, she wasn’t entirely sure she could find her way back easily.
“That arrow must have more significance than just belonging to you. Simply create more.”
“It is not that simple,” she retorted, immediately stilling as the words left her lips.
Cethin paused a few steps ahead when he realized she was no longer at his side. He turned to face her, a hand coming to his jaw. Rubbing at it, he was clearly trying to hide his smile with his thumb, but she saw it. He was obviously pleased with what he’d learned.
“Tell me more about that, tiny fiend,” he said.
He was entirely focused on her, everything about him intent. She wasn’t sure she’d ever had someone look at her like that. Like she held the answers to something he was desperate to know. All because of her arrows?
She cleared her throat, continuing to walk and striding past him.
He followed her this time, no longer guiding and letting her choose her own path.
He said nothing for the next several minutes, waiting until she was good and truly lost among the fucking plants and flowers.
Waited until she turned to him in annoyance.
Her hands clenching into fists at her sides, she spun on him. “Tell me the way out of here.”
He didn’t bother to hide his smirk this time. “The way out is to agree to my proposal, Kailia.”
“I’m not going to wed you, king.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Then tell me more about your arrows and magic.”
“If I do so, do you agree to tell me the way out?”
“If you tell me why it is not so simple to create new arrows, I will tell you a way out of the gardens,” he agreed.
She didn’t miss his wording, but if he got her out of this maze of plants, she’d take the offering. She felt far too exposed out here.
“Fine,” she agreed, and then eyed the hand he extended to her. He’d already sliced his palm, blood dripping and waiting for her to make the proposed bargain binding. “I don’t need a bargain with you on this.”
He blinked in surprise. “You are simply going to take my word?”
“If you go back on your word, that damages your character more than mine. You’re the one attempting to convince me to marry you,” she replied, bending down to unlace her boots. She’d had it with the cumbersome things.
“That’s fair,” he said after a moment, watching her slide her feet from the footwear that reached nearly to her knees.
Stuffing the socks inside the boots, her eyes fell closed at the cool stone path beneath her bare feet. Her toes flexed, feeling exponentially more grounded.
She gave herself a few seconds to relish the feeling before she opened her eyes and continued on her way.
If he wanted her answer, he’d have to follow, and a glance over her shoulder found him doing just that.
He’d also swiped up the boots she’d left behind, carrying them in one of his large hands as he caught up to her.
“My magic is tied to the arrows,” she said, not looking at him. “Without the full set, I cannot create more. It’s why I collected the arrowheads that night. I’ve never had an arrow disintegrate like that. But since that night, my magic hasn’t worked properly.”
“You were moving through your smoke and ashes fine last night,” the king replied skeptically.
“Just because you can’t perceive a weakness doesn’t mean it’s not there,” she said sharply.
“My power is not refilling like it should. I cannot linger in my ashes as long as I once could. I can’t travel as great a distance.
It took me far longer than it should have to get from Shira Forest to Aimonway.
It will only get worse without that arrow.
Does that explanation satisfy your curiosity, king? ”
“Yes, but it also raises more questions,” Cethin mused.
“I agreed to answer one. Now fulfill your end of the deal.”
He nodded, extending a hand to her once more. With his palm now healed, there was only a smear of blood there. She looked from his hand to his face, her expression flat while he smiled a satisfied thing that said he’d achieved something.
“I can Travel us out,” Cethin coaxed.
“We can walk,” she countered.
“The agreement was I’d tell you a way out of the gardens.”
“And you’re doing a terrible job at convincing me to marry you by tricking me.”
“There are no tricks, tiny fiend,” he said, his eyes once more bright with something she didn’t understand.
“Unfortunately, I do not have the entire day to guide you through these gardens,” he said. “I have other matters to attend to.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You are the one who insisted on this walk.”
“I did,” he agreed. “And I got part of what I wanted. You are obviously not going to agree to my other proposal at this time—”
“Ever,” Kailia corrected. “I will not agree to that proposal ever.”
He made a show of tipping his head from side to side as if debating her words.
“We shall have to agree to disagree on that matter. For now, I will escort you from the gardens by Traveling, or I can leave you here to find your own way back. However, know that the castle guard will not like an unknown female wandering the premises alone.”
“You… I—” She spluttered, trying to collect her thoughts, and his godsdamn smile only widened. “You are as arrogant and heartless as the rumors claim, king,” she finally managed to get out, each word laced with venom.
That smile of his vanished, replaced with something far more menacing.
She’d seen death enough to know that was what lingered behind the look suddenly pinned on her.
His hand snapped out, gripping hers and tugging her closer.
Everything in her screamed at the contact, and she went rigid.
If he noticed—and she was sure he did—he didn’t appear to care.
Instead, he bent down so his words brushed along her cheek as he whispered low and dark, “Believe the rumors, tiny fiend. Every single one is true.”
Then she was being pulled through the air before he unexpectedly released her hand.
She stumbled away from him, looking up into eyes where darkness now drifted among the silver.
Briefly, she wondered when he’d dropped her boots.
His gaze dipped to her other hand, and she had no idea when she’d pulled the dagger from its sheath, but she held the blade in the space between them.
His smile was all predator as his eyes darted to something over her shoulder. “The guards approach, Kailia. You have a choice to make. Make a new bargain with me or spend time in accommodations not nearly as comfortable as those provided last night.”
“You cannot be serious,” she said, panic creeping in. She couldn’t be trapped here. The wards kept her from her magic, and being separated from her smoke and ashes was already taking its toll.
He clicked his tongue in admonishment. “Come now. I just told you all the rumors were true.”
“Cethin, I—”
Something new flashed across his features. Something feral and wanton. Something she again didn’t understand.
Whatever it was, he recovered quickly. His face twisted back into the harshness of seconds ago, and he took a single step towards her. She took one back, and the answering smirk was cruel.
“Agree to a bargain with me, and you can leave here,” he proposed. “But decide quickly. Your fate hangs in the balance.”
“I will not marry you.”
“The bargain is that the next time our paths cross, these negotiations will go very differently.”
She took the step towards him this time, the dagger still poised between them. “The next time our paths cross, I will stab you somewhere far more painful.”
“Do we have an accord then?” he asked, his demeanor nothing but arrogance personified.
Her brow scrunched. “An accord for what? That I will stab you the next time I see you?”
“The bargain is that the next time our paths cross, you shall either agree to my proposal or stab me.”
“Fine, we have an accord,” she scoffed, slicing her dagger along her palm before throwing it at him. It flipped, blade over hilt, and Cethin caught it by the steel. Blood immediately seeped between his fingers, and he let it drop to the ground with a clatter, never once breaking her stare.
She braced herself for the touch, biting down on her grimace when he closed his fingers around hers. Their blood met, and she felt the telltale tingle of a Bargain Mark marring the flesh along the back of her shoulder.
He lifted his other hand, presumably to halt his advancing guard, but he still gripped her fingers, keeping their connection. He leaned in closer, forcing her to tip her head back to hold his stare. “See you soon, tiny fiend.”
Her answering smile was pure vitriol. “You should pray to the gods that doesn’t happen.”
“No need. Either way, you’ll end up back here. In a cell or at my side, it doesn’t matter to me,” he replied simply. So sure of how this was going to end. So certain he’d get what he wanted.
She’d make sure he regretted every moment of their time together.