Page 85 of Savagely Mated


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“Seems to me that dynasties are pretty hard to get started, and pretty easy to end,” I say.

“That’s a wise statement, from one so young and with such limited access to anything resembling a history textbook.”

The cardinal is right about my lack of traditional education, but he is kind of an asshole for pointing it out.

Before I can make a comment to that effect, Einar, Rafe, and Kirin are led into the room. They have been allowed to shower, shave, and put on fresh clothes. They’re looking quite nice, actually, all in dark three-piece suits. But there are plenty of signs of resistance and fighting on them. Einar’s knuckles are swollen and skinned. Rafe has a cut under his left eye that has been taped shut. And Kirin, well, Kirin looks perfect. Nobody, not even a cardinal’s guard, would willingly hit that face.

“Quite a set of mates,” the cardinal drawls. “Royals always seem to have a preference for multiples.”

I rush into their arms, grabbing Einar first because he is the closest. The others gather round and we embrace with real relief.

“Your eminence,” Einar says. “May we know what is happening?”

“Ask your little mate,” the cardinal drawls, clearly enjoying the drama of the moment.

“Darcy?”

“You want the good news, or the bad news?”

They all look confused and maybe slightly annoyed. I guess this isn’t the time to be playing games.

“Okay, well, bad-ish news first, I did kill the king, I have killed eight people in the last week. It’s starting to become a bad habit, and…”

“Darcy, what’s the good news?” Rafe asks the question with as much patience as he can muster.

“I will be king,” I grin.

They look at the cardinal.

“It’s true,” he says. “She will be.”

“And I will keep working for D2G.”

“Well,” the cardinal says, at the same time as Einar.

“How can she be king? She’s a female.”

“She’s a woman, and she could be a queen, but then everybody would be wondering who the king is. Easier to just make her the king.”

“Is this some kind of…”

“Don’t ask him that,” I interrupt Einar. “It offends him.”

“You need proof. I understand,” the cardinal says. “After all, your lives are on the line if this proves to be a jest.”

“Sure, understand him, but be offended by me. Feels sexist,” I mutter.

I feel Einar’s grip tighten on the back of my neck. I know he’s trying to tell me not to piss this guy off, but I got this far by being myself and I guess I’m going to keep going.

“Have your phones been returned to you?” the cardinal asks. “If so, I suggest you check the news.”

My mates do so, all three of them staring at little glowing tablets, with three sets of tinny voices speaking at the same time as they catch the Eclipse News app broadcast in progress…

“The palace has announced that King Amathar has passed on unexpectedly, due to a lack of throat. He will be replacedimminently by the female shifter who removed it. Long live King Darcy.”

“It’s online,” the cardinal says. “It’s official.”

“Is that how it works?”