I forced my waist to bend before him, blood churning with malice and the odium of distrust. The King sucked in his breath at the sight of me. “We heard the report from the gate when you came in. You should have been here an hour ago.”
Hadrian and Aren dropped their gazes at the non-existent greeting, Aren’s mouth flattening as though to bury a flinch. I clasped my hands behind my back, hiding the tremor in my fingers. “I wanted to get Maren settled first.”And there’s no fucking way I’d willingly lead her to an audience with you.
Somehow, speaking her name led my eyes to meet Thaan’s. He gave no reaction to the incendiary stare I sent him, the corner of his mouth lifting in return. Emilius didn’t notice. He didn’t even bother to look at me as he studied a map laid out over the table. His beard and hair streaked with golden frost, he flung the cobalt cape that laid over one shoulder away to make use of his hand. “I’m told you came through the mountains. Our scouts can’t find a way in. Where did you pass through?”
Every muscle hardened within me, weighted with stony anger, not that I would have expected a loving reception from the man I'd referred to as my father all my life. I forced my feet intomotion, approaching the table, my jaw suddenly aching with the pressure I used to seal it tight. Aren and General Senan stepped in close to watch my finger swerve over inked peaks and valleys.
“Here’s the Rivean camp,” I said flatly, stomach boiling with quiet rage at the sight of Hadrian now fighting tears as he glared at the floor. “Here’s where we worked our way through. They cut a trail just east of this line, it might be still buried now.”
Thaan ducked out of the tent, his servant on his heels, arms laden in scrolls. I watched the tent flap close over him, dark thoughts flashing through my mind.
“You’ll lead scouts there in the morning,” the King said.
I shook my head. “I promised my wife I’d take her back to Laurier Palace.”
“Piss on your island harlot,” Emilius muttered. “I don’t have time to make sure spoiled women are made comfortable. Sir Thaan is leaving for The City of Towers tomorrow; he can take her.”
In an instant, my blood raced. “No.” The word flew from my mouth before I could capture it, a rash bird streaking from a window, leaving me to watch it in mute shock. As my stomach began to cave in on itself, I ignored the feeling of Hadrian’s eyes on me, wide with fear.
The air in the tent became unearthly still, charged with cold and silent danger. The King’s lips barely moved as he spoke. “I think you’ve misheard me.”
Fuck. Take it back.
No. Don’t.
I fought the tremor in my hands. Senan watched with an expression of mild discomfort; Aren’s eyes shifted over the floor. But Hadrian’s stare bore into me like a dagger, and I felt the weight of his thoughts in my mind.
You fool, you fool, you fool.
I waited for my knees to buckle. “I promised my wife I’d escort her.”And I’d barter a deal with Darkness before I let Thaan leave Winterlight alone with Maren.
White lines appeared on either side of Emilius’s mouth. “Leave.”
Senan was the first out of the tent. Aren sent me a nervous glance as he followed. “Not you. You might as well hear this as well,” Emilius snapped as Hadrian’s feet neared the flap. The King’s eyes never left mine. We stared at each other in silence as the seconds dripped by, as cold and taunting as the snowmelt off the roof of this tent. Then he spoke, the cadence of his voice sharpening into smooth, lethal tones. “If I’d have realized all it took to control you was a bitch in heat, I’d have paired you with a mongrel six years ago. And if I didn’t think I’d be able to leverage island men into soldiers through her ties, this match never would have taken place.”
He stepped in closer. “But since you’ve taken a recent interest in breeding with dogs, let me inform you how to make bloodlines work in a master’s favor. If a pairing doesn’t offer you an advantageous outcome, you don’t waste your time letting two dogs bond. If a stud loses his head when his bitch is concerned, you put the bitch down. And if your dogs happen to breed under your nose and outside your plans, well… Pups easily drown in a vat.
“Do not make the mistake of thinking just because she’s married into this family, she’s safe.” Emilius paused at my shoulder and took his time wetting his lips. “I’ll use her to keep you in line, but the second I think you’ve strayed beyond it, the island bitch is dead.”
I took hold of his arm, gently, respectfully, though my grip was firm enough he couldn’t walk away. He stopped, and I met his eyes. Hadrian’s eyes, but without any of Hadrian’s warmth.
From my periphery, Hadrian stiffened, ashen as he watched us both.
“Compare my wife to a dog again,” I said leisurely, fighting to keep from growling the words. “And you will be the one to find yourself begging for scraps in a kennel. Threaten her life again, and you will find your own cut indefinitely short.”
He fixed me with a stare so cold and unforgiving I almost thought he’d call for my head right there. Madness flickered in his eyes, quiet and foreboding outrage, and I became very aware that I’d poured oil over a fire rather than douse the flames. The thudding in my chest slowly doubled, but Emilius extracted himself from my hold by simply walking away, vanishing through the tent flap.
Thick, greasy unease churned in my belly.
Hadrian’s hand landed on my shoulder. I let him roll me into a silent embrace, his gulping loud and thick in my ear, until we broke apart a moment later, our hug punctuated by firm slaps against each others backs. He shook his head at me, eyes veined and swollen. “That was a mistake.”
Aalto, he might’ve been right. The unease turned and bubbled. Roiled and built and fell, knotting with dread and nausea. But I shook my head.
“No, it wasn’t.”
48
Maren
