His brows knit together. “What do you mean?”
I took a quick breath and stepped closer to him. He was taller than me, muscle-bound, and broad-shouldered. Even without the drekkan’s might, he could overpower me with one hand. He radiated so much power and authority that even shadows drew away from him. Everything about him told me to step back, but I didn’t know how to talk to people from far away.
Heat emanated from his body. I ignored it and met his piercing green eyes. “Youcouldbeat them for their crimes, but by tomorrow they would be healed. In a few weeks, they might make the same mistakes again.”
The king’s voice darkened. “I could put magic-voidingmanacles on them, and they would take weeks to heal.” One of the elves behind me gasped. Apparently he hadn’t considered that.
“Still—” I stepped closer again. Did he have a drekkan’s temperature in his elf form? I could reach out and grab his arm, but… I wasn’t quite that bold. Instead, I stared up at him. “Even if they had to heal at a human’s rate, eventually the pain would be gone and they might forget the lesson.”
He twitched his head in a quick shake. “I would make it severe,” he whispered. “It would not be gone any time soon.”
Oh dear. His honor was more wounded than I’d realized. But I’d started down this path, and I had to push through it. I refused to accept a reality where I had to watch someone get beaten half to death for something they did to me… especially when they were interrupted and I was, essentially, unharmed.
This was a time for boldness. I touched the top of his hand. Heat from his skin engulfed mine, just as it had in his drekkan form. The warmth was such a stark contrast to the dank chill around us that it distracted me. He seemed so cold and unfeeling—as both a drekkan and an elf—but his hand warmed me from my fingertips straight to my heart.
He turned his head down to look at my hand. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist—at least the top half. They didn’t quite reach all the way around. My stomach lurched—I hadn’t felt so nervous in… longer than I could remember.
He offered me a cautious smile and whispered, “Tell me your thoughts, Champion of Fae and Elven Fools.”
Was that a compliment or insult?
I couldn’t tell, but I whispered back. “Or, you could claim their debt. Allow them to leave with nothing more than the fear and humiliation they have already experienced…andthe knowledge thatthey owe you. You might call in that debt next week or next year. You might call in a partial payment in two months and let the rest linger over their heads, constantly reminding them that their debt to you is as great as their lives—that they owe you every day, every moment, that they draw breath.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a dangerous smile. “Some might argue the mental anguish of your consequence is more cruel than the physical torture of mine.”
“You could always give them the choice.” I immediately regretted the words as soon as I spoke them, but the damage was done. I saw the glint in his eye as he contemplated making them choose the nature of their own torture.
I only hoped they chose my version. They both reminded me of Alastor. My brother would never torture another person like they’d attacked me, but he’d made decisions just as rash and reckless many times… and I knew I would see my brother in them as I heard their screams.
The Elf King patted my hand on his wrist, and then nudged me to his side.
I let go of him, and he waved a hand at the two elves on the floor. They lifted their heads and shoulders off the ground, but stayed kneeling.
“Your crimes,” the king drawled, “include attacking someone who could not defend herself and violating the trust inherent in our kingdom that allowed you entrance into the dungeons. In that violation, you brought dishonor on me, forcing me into the unenviable position of having lied.”
As he spoke they both paled. They’d already heard us discussing everything, but kneeling at the feet of the king who threatened their lives seemed to make reality even more harsh.
The king continued. “In discussing a plan with the one wronged to encourage you to avoid these mistakes in the future, I have decided to offer you a choice. You may choose to pay for your crimes with your flesh—”
He smacked the whip handle against his hand. “Right here, right now, or…” He smacked the whip again. “You may choose to leave this dungeon knowing you owe me a debt for these crimes… and I will collect it whenever I choose.”
Well. He certainly knew how to make their circumstances sound dismal. A heavy silence fell on all four of us. Nobody spoke for a solid minute. Maybe even two.
Awkward.
Finally, the darker-haired elf dropped his face back to the floor and spoke with his eyes buried. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. It was one of the worst mistakes we’ve ever made, and I’ll never do anything like it again. I would gladly accept your second offer, and I would thank you for it every day you allowed me.”
High King Aedan waited until the elf on the floor stopped speaking and lifted his head back up for an answer. “Do you have anything to say to the fae?”
What? I turned to the king and pulled my jaw back closed. He just tipped his head down toward the kneeling elf.
My tormenter from earlier turned to me and spoke slower. “I apologize for attacking you. It was not honorable, and I… I regret it. I…” He glanced at the king, and then turned back to me. “I also thank you for your generous response. It… was more kind than we deserved.”
I nodded to him.
The king spoke slowly with a small rumble in his throat, almost as deep as when he was a drekkan. “Jolter. Your apologies and choice to remain in my debt are acceptable.”
After Jolter thanked him, the king turned to the blonder elf. “Koan, what is your choice?”
