Chapter 23 #3
King Helvig sprawled in his chair, a smugness oozing from him, as his eyes grew hazier, peering at me with a lustful glance.
“Sit, my queen. Be by my side.” He motioned toward the throne beside him.
“Until you don’t need me anymore,” I blurted, my tone coming out calm and factual.
He grinned widely, his shoulder shrugging.
“We all have our roles to play.” Grabbing a glass of wine off a tray, he patted the seat.
“And let’s not worry about any of that until later.
We haven’t even enjoyed our union together first.” His focus drifted beyond me, a smile tweaking his face. “Which might come sooner than later.”
“What—”
“Your highness.” A familiar female voice cut me off, swinging me around to the figure at the bottom of the steps.
My world tipped on its side. I had the sensation I had stepped into an alternative universe, struggling to put the pieces together. What was she doing here? Was she a hostage like I was?
“Morrigan.” The king purred the name of my father’s personal seer as though he had said it many times in private. “I am so happy you could make it home.”
Her beautiful smile was only for him, but her blue eyes slid to me briefly, a self-satisfaction in her expression before she turned back.
“As I am, my lord.” She dipped her head, her dark blond hair tumbling down to her waist, laced with black feathers, declaring who she stood with. Her eyes burning with desire. “I have missed you.” She kneeled before him.
His eyes glinted with lust, his tongue sliding over his lip, not at all hiding his erection. He leaned over, his mouth taking hers. “Same, my dear.”
My chin swung between them, my brain not able to process what I knew to be true. She had been my father’s private seeress for years, and he’d never doubted her faithfulness for an instant. He bedded her, he listened to her like he did the captain of his guards, leading his decisions.
This whole time she was a spy?
“No.” I shook my head, still wanting to deny it. I stared at my father’s seer, the woman who stood at my betrothal, whom I had trusted. “I don’t understand . . . how could you turn against us?”
“Turn against you?” she huffed, her hand twining around Gavric’s leg, his fingers threading through her hair like she was a hound. “I was never with you.”
My head spun more, my feet stepping back. “What?”
“I placed Morrigan there years ago,” the king replied. “I needed someone to get close to the king. Close to you. And she played her role impeccably, didn’t you?” He gently tapped her chin, causing her to curl in closer to him, her expression pure adoration.
“I learned your father had a fatal flaw a long time ago. Being so uptight and rigid, he breaks easily for something wild and seductive behind closed doors.” His thumb ran over Morrigan’s lips. “And she is unmatched in all those areas.”
She beamed, her hand running up and down his thigh, making my skin prickle, my head spinning the more I grappled for breath.
“When lips part, a man’s mouth opens.” He smirked.
This whole time she was betraying us, stealing information to get back to Gavric.
“But . . .” I croaked, confusion at her turning on her own kind. “You are a Day Raven.”
“You think because she looks like you, she should be faithful to your king?” He lifted a brow. “Your father abandoned his people at Silverguard, left them to die.” He stroked her head, his free hand gesturing up to the cages. “I saved them. I gave them a home.”
Morrigan hummed, laying her head in his lap. “You did, my lord. And you gave me so much more.”
“A home?” I choked, pointing up to the Day Ravens, ignoring her. “You call keeping them as prisoners a home?”
“Go ask them if they feel like prisoners.” He pushed Morrigan off him, standing, sauntering up to me without an inch of space between us. “They enjoy what they do. I provided a roof, food, and security.”
“You brainwashed them then,” I hissed.
“What does it matter, if they are happy and content?”
“Because it’s wrong.”
“Is it? Let me ask you: If your father can abandon his own people so cruelly, what must he do to the thralls who look like us?”
My chest and stomach knotted together. Bile burned at the back of my throat.
Everything I was raised to believe as far as how we treated the northern thralls was justified, was countered with, They do far worse to us.
We rationalized our actions, only to become far worse than what we accused the other side of doing.
I was told the Night King filled his castle with Day Ravens, all beaten and forced into labor.
The five Day Ravens dancing above were the first thralls of my kind I had even seen here.
Not that I agreed with King Helvig’s treatment, but I could no longer validate what we did, either.
“Let’s not quarrel, my dove.” He snapped his fingers, and a gorgeous half-naked male flock member rushed to his side with wine. The king picked one up and dropped a second goblet in my hand, clicking his with mine. “We are here to celebrate . . . tonight is our wedding night, after all.”