Chapter Twenty-Nine

Felix

"Word arrived from Brealan this morning."

I peer up from the laces of my boots and squint to see past dusk's rays. Ashe's footsteps are soundless as he approaches, but my eyes are immediately drawn to the scroll that dangles between his fingers.

To keep myself sharp when I'm not in the middle of open warfare, I take to the training grounds three times a week. Although it helps keep my combat skills up to par, it's the silence that I look forward to most.

As a young king, I was taught that too much quiet was a bad omen. It's here, though, that I came to understand the peace that's found within silence. No agonizing cries nor the stench of blood smothers the air. Here, while most of the castle remains asleep, I leave the crown behind and allow my mind to be freed.

My brows inch up when Ashe's shadow blocks the sun. He wears a plain black tunic with matching breeches, and his longsword rests at his hip. While it's not out of the ordinary for Ashe to rise early, it's usually Thorin who joins me for training.

Annoyance fills me as he wordlessly extends a scroll into the space between us and moves to sit on the bench beside me. Brealan is certainly no friend to my kingdom—my father had taken up arms against King Alardin the moment Ellesandra was all but sold to the Brealan Prince—but I haven't the slightest idea what the old fool may want.

I sigh and run my thumb along the forest green seal. It's embossed with two swords intersecting one another, and a flaming arrow in the center. The blood-soaked past we share tells me it's nothing good, especially considering I'm the one who deposed King Alardin's only heir. That's a death I make no apologies for. It was necessary in order to secure Ellesandra's freedom from marriage.

Just like his father, Calor Brunet was a smug bastard who thought himself to be untouchable because he hailed from the largest and wealthiest kingdom. His arrogance only increased tenfold when he married the most beautiful woman to ever grace the continent. He stood to rule not only one, but two kingdoms, and had both the men and gold to back any heirs he and Ellesandra might have had.

I should be thankful for his over inflated sense of self importance, I suppose. Without it, I wouldn't have met him on the battlefield and been provided the opportunity to gut him from belly to balls.

Tearing the scroll from the parchment, I scan the letter.

King of Risian,

It seems congratulations are due. Word of your victory has spread, as has the current state of my daughter-in-law's kingdom. There comes a time when one must raise their sword and get a firm grasp of control on a matter, as it seems you have come to understand.

This is not why I write to you, however. If the whispers that reach my ears are to be believed, you have now laid claim to the kingdom of Minalis and kidnapped its queen. Per the terms that were agreed upon and brought to fruition with my son's marriage to Ellesandra Sorrell, Minalis remains irrevocably tied to Brealan.

So long as breath remains in the Queen of Minalis' body, this agreement stands. You, however, may continue to hold dominion over Risian, and Risian alone. Despite our history, I have no desire to take my men from their families when they've only just returned. I imagine this is a sentiment you return in kind.

While you are welcome to do as you please with her, I implore you to remember who Minalis and its queen belong to. She is to remain unwed and without an heir.

Should you fail to meet these terms, I will be left with no choice but to take up arms against your kingdom once more. It's come to my attention that a celebration ball is to be held within a fortnight in your kingdom. I have sent an envoy in lieu of my place. He will await your response.

Regards,

Alardin Brunet

"What does he want?" Ashe questions.

I snort, though icy rage spreads through my chest like wildfire. "To rule not one but two kingdoms apparently."

The King of Brealan's heedless ambitions come as no surprise. Being my father's heir, I spent many evenings in his study listening to his endless tirades about our enemies. While I reduced much of what he said to maddening paranoia, he was right to advise me to keep a watchful eye on Alardin Brunet.

I'd expected this letter would arrive the moment I laid siege to the Amber Palace, and even planned for it accordingly. But it's not the high-reaching fingers of the Brealan King that see my jaw clench and my hand ball into a fist at my side.

Belong. It's that word that sees red creep along the edges of my vision. Belong. The bond roars to life as my eyes catch on the word once more and lashes out in a primal sense of possessiveness. My jaw clenches further—so tightly it's a blessing from the stars themselves if one of my teeth doesn't crack—in a poor attempt to fight against the being inside my chest. Claim,protect, possess, it chants.

I rub my jaw and use the feeling of the short, rough hair beneath my palm to prevent me from doing what the bond wishes me to do. To prevent me from abandoning my training, marching to the chamber I know she's in, hiking up her sleeping gown, and fucking her until there's no question of who she belongs to.

"Felix." I turn my head and allow Ashe's voice to ground me. He jerks his chin toward the parchment that crumples in my fist. "What else?"

The spots of red in my vision return with the mere thought of the Brealan bastard. "He says that Minalis will remain under his control." The breath I blow out is a whistle between my teeth. "And that Ellesandra belongs to him. Should she marry and bear an heir, he's promised war."

Though I've shared little—save for necessary information—of what I have in mind for my future with Ellesandra, I know that Ashe has an inkling of my plans. Both Ashe and Thorin understood what my intentions were when I commanded my forces to retreat and lay siege to Solei.

Unlike my council though, the two men know there's little point in trying to sway me. The only reason the council heard of my plans in the first place was to hopefully put an end to the thousand year war Risian has been entangled in. While gaining control of Minalis was a means to an end for them, it was never front and center in my mind. My primary focus has always been her.

Ashe stands and unsheathes the steel from his side in response. "Let's go."

Although I'm no longer in the mood for training, I know it's something I must do. Lords and ladies throughout Risian flock to the Selenic Palace as we speak. The tension radiating through my body needs to be released if I'm to endure hosting a ball. I don't mind engaging in conversation with my people, but their exuberance has lost its shine after five centuries.

With a sigh, I lean down and finish lacing up my boots before grabbing my sword. Seeing that the training yard is a circle of compacted brown earth, we're given free range to move about.

The moment I lift my sword, Ashe steps in front of me and lunges forward. The singing of steel against steel cuts through the air as I parry. Sweat forms on my brow as I block the next attack, though my movements are nimble as I go on the offensive. The clashing of swords and the occasional grunt are the only sounds to be heard for several minutes, but I don't mind.

Although I'd rather cut off my arm than seriously injure my brother, I find myself thinking of the ways I'll kill Alardin Brunet should I ever meet him on the battlefield. Just the way I gutted his son, I decide. It's poetic, I suppose, and I've rather come to enjoy poetry. Stories of knights and princesses become dull in the face of five hundred and one years.

"So," Ashe says between grunts. "It seems our Queen is adjusting nicely."

Nicely. That's rich. Since the dinner we shared together over a week ago, she's barely spoken a word to me. Instead, she lives to infuriate me by insisting all of her meals be brought to her chambers. While they're my chambers, strictly speaking, it seems to be the only place she finds some semblance of calm.

As much as I ache each night to take her into my arms and whisper the words her soul longs to hear, it would be of little use. The moment I kissed her at the dinner table, I recognized the look in her eyes. It's the ghost of a look that has appeared behind my eyelids each night, the last emotion I saw in her eyes that night so many years ago.

She's scared. I'd been almost giddy when I came to recognize the fear that stared back at me after I finished tasting her lips. Elated, even, that my touch finally coaxed some sort of emotion from her. Fear I could work with.

But then she snapped shut as quick as a clam at the bottom of the sea that holds the most precious jewel. While I've attempted to goad her into conversation in hopes we'll fall back into what was once our normal banter, she says nothing.

So, after the day is done, desolate silence greets me when I enter our chamber. The thread in my chest entices me to pull any emotion I can to the surface. Anger, hatred, rage, disdain. Anything is better than the shell of a person she's become. Each night I lie beside her, she refuses to look at me.

Although I haven't tried to touch her, she lays as far away from me as possible each night. Even if her divine scent is slowly unraveling the threads of my sanity, I can't find comfort elsewhere.

"‘Nicely' is a loose term," I grind out finally, blocking my right side from Ashe's attack.

"Well, you still remain among the living, so I think we can consider that a victory," he says between breaths. "She just needs time and then she'll be right as rain."

As if.

Ellesandra,

Do you know how infuriating you are? I tried to drink the memory of you away. That earned me a bloody lip and a severe headache. Burying myself in the finest whores Risian has to offer ended similarly.

I hate you.

Come back to me.