Chapter 2

I resisted the urge to tear Duke Strahar Vazand’s throat out and quench my thirst with his blood. The formal mourning period for my late father finished at dusk, and Strahar had wasted no time springing his trap. Tall, spare, and hard-faced, the duke was formidable despite his age, but that wasn’t why I held back my anger.

I was king now. Killing a duke would be a poor way to start my reign, even if he was using the Ancestors to bind me to his House, taking advantage of a prophecy and his closeness with the Keepers of Ancestral Memory.

Three Keepers waited behind him, stoic and unmoving in their simple robes. The royal Keeper, Rennic, stood behind me, looking through the documents they’d brought him. I didn’t need to see him to feel his discomfort.

“It is a legitimate interpretation, Highness,” Rennic said at last. “And the translation is valid.”

He sounded no happier than I was. A wintery smile flashed across Strahar’s face, almost too fast to be seen. “Rejoice, Highness. Even among kings, it is rare to have such a personal prophecy. For it to guide you to your fated mate? That shows unheard of favor from our ancestors.”

How convenient that the mate in question is your only child. A match that would place your grandchild on the Sanguine Throne and likely kill me as soon as that child is born. Kharmiya, the heir to the Vazand dynasty, stood at the back of her father’s retinue, taking no part in the conversation. Her eyes downcast, she was the picture of meek and demure womanhood. Nothing like the mate I’d dreamed of, though she fitted her role so perfectly I wondered how much was an act. My mind rebelled at the idea of marrying her.

The problem was, the prophecy was true or an excellent forgery. Either way, I couldn’t just ignore it. Nor could I kill the duke without starting a civil war, and I had no desire whatsoever to become a holy king and let Strahar steal the throne. Time, that’s what I needed. Enough time to escape his trap.

So I restrained myself and met his gaze with a calm I did not feel, smiling. “If the Ancestors found it important enough to carve into the side of a mountain, I would be a fool to cast their wisdom aside.”

This time the duke’s smile lasted longer, twisting his lips into an expression that was no more friendly than the stony scowl he usually wore. The man couldn’t even pretend happiness when he was winning.

“Good. Then you will marry my daughter, and the Ancestors’ blessings will surely make your reign magnificent.”

Behind him, his three pet Keepers nodded eagerly, and one stepped forward to join the conversation. “Lord, we have consulted the writings, and our Ancestors were clear—the most auspicious day for such a wedding would be tomorrow.”

I shot him a hard look. Even if he’d been a skilled actor, that line wouldn’t play. As it was, he sounded like he was reading from a script. But even as he paled and stuttered, Strahar spoke into the silence. “Wonderful news! We shall have to move fast to take advantage of it. Doubtless, word spreads even now, on the lips of every Keeper.”

That went too far for Rennic. “Perhaps I might see those writings too? The Ancestors’ messages are rarely so precise.”

“Of course, of course.” Another Keeper stepped in, clapping Rennic on the shoulder. “Shall we go now?”

“Indeed,” Strahar said. “Let us see this prediction for ourselves. Daughter, stay with his Majesty. Get to know each other before the wedding.”

With that, the ducal party swept out, leaving me alone with Kharmiya and my thoughts.

Fuck. The Duke of Vazand had planned this well, taking advantage of my mourning for my father. I had not prepared for such an immediate and unprincipled attack, and had no answers ready.

A physical attack? I’d welcome a fight, a problem I could solve with sword and claw and fang. Let anyone raise their hand to fight me, and I would cut it off. But a political fight? I was not ready, nor trained, for that. My older brother had been, but he lay in the vaults beside our parents.

This was a fight I had to face alone, and I’d already lost the first round.

* * *

I stood on the balcony, fighting for calm. The still, cool air steadied me as I looked out into the night, but not enough. My hands crushed the stone railing that separated me from the long fall into the lake below.

“The prophecy is clear,” his daughter said, moving to join me. She kept a respectful distance, whether out of a sense of propriety or self-preservation, I couldn’t say. “‘The first of Vazand born shall be thy wife, oh King of Ages.’ It sounds rather cut and dried, doesn’t it?”

“The prophecy your father discovered and had translated?” I let out a bitter laugh. “I am not surprised it agrees with him. And it was he who proposed reign-name Ages for me.”

“Before he discovered the prophecy. Which, as you know, scholars have checked and verified.” Did I hear a hint of reproach in her voice? “And the wisdom of our ancestors guides us, doesn’t it, your Majesty?”

Not reproach, then. Mockery. Friendly banter or genuine hostility remained to be seen.

“You are hardly unbiased, either,” I said, then added. “We are in private, so let us drop the formality. Call me Rhakaris.”

“I suppose I am not,” she conceded. “But prophecy is prophecy, whether one likes what it says as my lord father does, or whether one objects, as we do.”

That brought my head around. She raised her head and met my gaze, unflinching, as I asked. “We?”

“I am as much a prisoner of this prophecy as you, Rhakaris.” For the first time, her smile seemed genuine. “And we share an equal desire for this marriage.”

Irrational annoyance surged in me, and I crushed it viciously. I didn’t want to marry her, why should I expect her to want me? Idiotic pride. “You have found an answer, haven’t you? Or you would not have mentioned this. You do not seem the type to come running for comfort.”

Her smile widened, and she whistled a signal before answering. “I wouldn’t know about comfort. There’s none here to run to. As for an answer, judge for yourself.”

The doors opened again, and I turned to see who she’d called for. Some ancient Keeper, ready to dismiss the prophecy? A scholar, disputing its authenticity? An assassin, perhaps, to save her from marriage by killing me?

I liked that thought. A fight would work off my anger, and killing her hired murderer would provide ample reason to avoid marriage.

But no, the newcomer wasn’t even Drachali. Ellarax Vitvha, Kharmiya’s lady-companion, ushered a human into the room. One of the guests who’d forced themselves onto Vazand during my father’s reign, arriving in their thousands with no way to go home. My claws bit into the palms of my hands as I looked at her, trying to keep my anger from showing. This human was too young to be among their leaders, so it wasn’t her fault she was here.

I looked closer. The human female was small, like most of her kind. Long, dark red hair tumbled down her back, and her emerald green gown enhanced her full figure, displaying her delicious curves to good effect. It left her pale neck bare, and my gaze followed it up to her face.

It was a masterpiece, a beauty any sculptor would have wept at creating. Who could hope to equal such glory? Her skin, soft and radiant, flushed with emotion, and her full lips parted slightly as our gazes met. It was her eyes, though, that stopped my mind in its tracks. Even amongst the Drachali nobility, few can hold my gaze. The human stared back at me unflinching, eyes narrowing.

The glare took my breath away. Defiant, suspicious, and determined, it was the most refreshing and honest expression I’d seen in a long time. No one dared show their emotions to me unguarded, not as a prince and especially not now I was king.

No one except this human.

“Your Majesty, allow me to present Eden Sumner.” Kharmiya spoke formally, stepping away. For the human’s benefit, she repeated the words in Galtrade, the common language of the stars.

The human’s glare shifted briefly to her, then back to me. She didn’t otherwise respond.

“What is this, Kharmiya?” I kept to Galtrade, despite its ugliness, out of courtesy to the human who was, unaccountably, my guest.

“The answer to your prayers and mine, Majesty.” I didn’t need to take my gaze off the human to know Kharmiya was grinning. “Your new bride.”

“What?” We spoke nearly in unison, the human’s objection coming just ahead of mine. Both of us turned to face the princess, and I caught the last vestiges of her amusement vanishing behind her calm and pious pose. Her father might not be much of an actor, but Kharmiya had more than her share of the talent.

“Explain yourself,” I commanded, at the same time as the human’s shout.

“What the fuck do you fucking mean, his bride?”

Kharmiya’s lips quirked with the hint of a smile, but she didn’t leave us hanging. Wise. Both I and the human were close to snapping.

“Majesty, the best way to avoid marrying me is to be married already.” I bared my teeth in a growl. Kharmiya might be patient, but I was not. Recognizing that, she swallowed and talked faster. “It can’t be just anyone. If you already had an acknowledged lover, that might be different. Without one, you’re stuck. Either you follow the prophecy or you tear the kingdom apart.”

“I know.” Keeping my anger out of my voice was impossible. My body trembled with a burning rage, my breathing came too fast, and my strained tone showed how close I was to an explosion. “Your father has arranged it cleverly. How does this human help me avoid his trap?”

Instead of answering directly, she turned her full attention to the human female. “Eden, darling, why don’t you explain the meaning of your name to his Majesty?”

Her brows creased, confused, but she complied. “Uh, there’s not much to tell. Sumner is my family name, and Eden—well, I’m called Eden because I was the first human born on this planet. My parents named me after it.”

It took me a beat to understand, looking between the two women. Then the realization struck like a hammer between my eyes.

“You call this planet ‘Eden?’” I asked. A stupid question she’d already answered. “We call it Vazand.”

The first of Vazand born shall be thy wife, oh Rhakaris, oh King of Ages. The line if prophecy that tied me to Kharmiya Vazand now offered me freedom from her and the grasp of her father. If the human will play along.