“He never knew you weren’t his son?” Aerity whispered.
“Not until I visited him on his deathbed and explained what had been ailing him all along. Small touches from the man he thought was his son. Touches that closed the vessels to his heart over time. Touches with fingers whose nails were carefully painted each and every day.”
“So, he’s dead now too?”
“Very much so, though the people do not yet know. And this is what our countries need. Young rulers. Fresh ideas. Change. When I return I will be King and conqueror. Those who clung to their loyalty to Kalieno will have no choice but to bow to my power.”
Aerity could not bring herself to respond to his self-satisfied admissions. He obviously thought this was all okay. And that she should be impressed by his cleverness.
“Now if you would be so kind,” he murmured, “I wish for a tour of my new home and the king’s chambers. I require rest.”
She was glad to give him a tour, anything to get out of that office with him, but this castle was not, and never would be, his home. It was the place he would die.
Aerity would make sure of it.
Chapter
40
Paxton felt sickened as he stood in High Hall and watched Rozaria’s army of Lashed tear the royal Lochlan tapestries from the wall and push them from open windows to be burned outside in the dark of night. His head throbbed and his stomach was on the verge of heaving. How long had it been since he had eaten or slept?
And what in the bloody deep seas was happening with Prince Vito and Aerity? His stomach rolled again, his hands clenching. Paxton had never killed a human being, but he would take pleasure in ending the prince’s life. How could Aerity consider baiting a serpent like him?
In truth, he begrudgingly admitted that she’d handled him brilliantly, playing on his weaknesses of vanity andseduction, but they needed to overpower the Kalorians and Lashed rebels quickly before Prince Vito had a chance to officially make Aerity his queen. Paxton would not allow that to happen, even if it was him against a thousand.
Rozaria came to Paxton’s side and watched the spectacle with a sparkle in her eyes. Then her mood seemed to darken.
“Your princess is up to something. I don’t trust her. Vito has always been a fool for a pretty face.”
Paxton crossed his arms. He wanted to remind her that Aerity was queen now, but held his tongue. “I can tell you it’s true that she harbored anger toward her father, and that her views on Lashed were far more open than his. I don’t think you need to worry about her. She would appease the Lochlan masses and keep them from revolt, and the prince could easily overrule her when needed.”
Rozaria observed him skeptically. “Are you a fool for her pretty face as well?”
“I don’t find her pretty,” Paxton said matter-of-factly.
Rozaria’s eyes softened, and she seemed appeased for the moment.
I find her absolutely gorgeous, he thought.
A crash sounded, followed by laughter, and Rozaria raised an arm in frustration. “You’re not to break general valuables, only Lochlan artifacts!” She marched into the crowd and began shouting in Kalorian.
Paxton’s eyes glazed as he thought. When they’d left the king’s office, a swarm of Kalorian soldiers and Rozaria’sLashed Ones had been let into the castle. From what Rozaria translated for him, the land takeover had been tragically fast. It seemed that the Lochlan navy had bested the Kalorian fleet, sinking every single one of their vessels, but the remaining Lochlan ships sailed north rather than returning to the royal port that was now overrun by the enemy.
Rozaria was still shouting orders to people as she made her way back to Paxton’s side. “This hall is being cleared for our injured who need healing. They’re bringing them in now.”
“I’ll help,” Paxton told her.
He was glad of the distraction and the excuse to leave the castle. It was pitch-dark out, but fires had been lit around the castle, burning piles of Lochlan artifacts and trees that had caught fire during blasts. From afar Paxton could make out the naval quarters and army barracks, all burning brightly. Out in the port was a line of Kalorian cannons facing the sea, ready to strike any Lochlan ships that dared return. Battle-weary hotlands soldiers who’d escaped injury flooded into the gates of the west commons, where tents had already been erected. Shivering Kalorians passed him, carrying wounded men.
It didn’t feel real to Paxton. In the darkness and cold with foreign words spoken all around him, it felt like a nightmare of confusion and wrongness. Paxton saw a soldier struggling to pull an injured man, and he ran over to take the feet and help carry him into the warmth of the castle. Once they got him in High Hall, Paxton set to healing the man himself.
Many of the men were missing limbs and died before they could be healed. To Paxton’s disgust, those bodies were thrown from the windows into a heap. Aye, High Hall was becoming overcrowded, but he was appalled that anyone would treat their dead with such lack of respect.
Paxton’s injured man had been burned on his shoulder and arm. He cried out and tried to move away when Paxton went to remove his tunic.
“Sh, I’m going to heal you. You’ll feel better soon.”
The man struggled, in pain, not understanding a word Paxton said. He worked quickly, holding the man down with a knee and pressing his free hand to the man’s good shoulder while he worked with the other hand.
