Chapter 6

Heart racing, I swatted loose strands of hair away from my clammy face as I disentangled myself from Eliasson and made to move away.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ His hand clamped down on my hip, pulling my body back into his and holding me still. We were both sweaty and breathing heavily, our chests rubbing against one another.

Looking at Eliasson from below my eyelashes, I could see pure male satisfaction shining from his eyes, and my cheeks unexpectedly heated in response. Since when did I get shy about these things? I guess it’s a good place to start when the guy you’re supposed to kill has just given you three orgasms in one session, but still. The universe hates me.

As if reading my thoughts, Eliasson placed a finger under my chin and lifted my face. My eyes dipped to his mouth, satisfaction also reflected in the curve of his lips.

‘I think I should annoy Fyrel more,’ I mumbled, eyes darting up to his, my cheeks becoming impossibly hotter.

Predictably, Eliasson burst out laughing, while his fingers started to trace a pattern up and down my thigh. ‘That’s where you’re going after what is, undoubtedly, the best sex we’ve ever had?’

‘Seems fair, no?’ I sheepishly shrugged, not denying that it was indeed the best sex we’d ever had. Honestly, it was the best I’d ever had. Isn’t that just a spanner being thrown into the works?

‘Hmmm.’ Eliasson’s fingers moved up to my chest, circling a breast one after the other. ‘I can think of a few factors.’ He casually flicked his finger over my nipple, eliciting a small, sharp gasp from me, before pulling away and sitting up. I watched the sheets pool around his hips, his arm muscles contracting as he flicked his long blonde locks behind his shoulders. I had to stop myself from drooling. And from questioning why my attraction to him was suddenly intensifying

Clearing my throat, I followed his movements and sat up, determined to move on from the topic of conversation. ‘You mentioned earlier you were spending the day with me?’

‘Yes, I thought we could go for a walk through Amarald, escape the palace for a while. From all reports, the harvesting season was fruitful with the first load of goods arriving the other day. Maybe we could pick up some plants for the garden?’

My eyes lit up in excitement and I nodded. A day of no guards following us because Eliasson is with me? I’m not missing out on this. The safety of Arlom really was a boon at times.

I jumped out of bed, flinging my dress on as I rushed out the door to my quarters, yelling over my shoulder that I’d be ready in fifteen minutes.

Soaking up the beautiful mid-morning rays of sunshine, Eliasson insisted we walk hand in hand, opting to stroll down the road at the front of the palace to the Amarald markets instead of riding on horseback.

The city of Amarald was undeniably beautiful, with the soft white sand and deep blue of the ocean to the right of our path. Judging by the large number of civilians at the beach, there must be a number of land-locked farmers taking advantage of the trip to Amarald to enjoy its natural landscape. It must have been a fruitful harvest indeed.

To the left of our path, luscious rolling green hills surrounded the heart of the city. Houses were scattered and built in what could only be described as a non-uniform layout. Roads wound around the building in a way that indicated housing had come first and the roads were an afterthought. All of the cottages were unique, ranging in colour from yellow to brown, and in material from bricks to straw. I couldn’t help the smile that crept on my face at the civilians enjoying the beach, the farmers actually wanting to come to the city and the chaotic clash of colours scattered throughout the hills. It’s so very different to Salistya.

After our wedding, Eliasson had taken me on a whirlwind tour of the whole kingdom, insisting on the importance of knowing the Dom I was to rule alongside him. I had known the Arlom Kingdom supplied the other Doms with agricultural products, but it was only when we explored the whole kingdom that I recognised the sheer magnitude of its operations. Hills and valleys were common, rising amongst flat plains of rich and fertile land. No matter which direction I had turned, my gaze was met with either rows of planted vegetables, fruits, or grazing livestock. Seeing it firsthand, I wondered how the Salistyan’s could view the Arloman Kingdom as the weakest link. The Arloman farmers fed the entire continent.

A squeeze of my hand pulled my thoughts back to the present. Looking over at Eliasson, his questioning look told me I had missed something.

‘Sorry, what was that?’

He smiled patiently. ‘The ship is docked, ready for the Solista Isles. I believe they’ll be leaving this afternoon. Is there anything you’d like to have sent over to your friends?’

‘Why would I –’ I started, confused, completely forgetting for a moment that he wasn’t aware of teleporting.

I assumed a regretful look. ‘That won’t be necessary. Most of my friends have returned to Salistya,’ I responded.

‘Of course, not to mention that communication isn’t allowed,’ he nodded solemnly. ‘I haven’t spoken to Tarn since our wedding, and it’s killing me. When I went through combat training in Arlom we were still allowed to go home over holiday breaks and receive messages. The Solistan way is hardcore, no?’

‘Hardcore is one way to put it, but I guess you don’t become a strong enough army to protect all of Fyriane by not being hardcore. They believe that cutting trainees off from the outside world is necessary to simulate the reality of war. Ultimately their end goal is to train everyone as a warrior, so they break us down piece by piece to recognise our true potential.’ I shrugged. The concept normal to me, but judging by the look of outrage on Eliasson’s face, maybe it wasn’t.

As we approached the port of Amarald, market stalls could be seen lined up on the ocean front walkway. Excitement buzzed inside me at the prospect of picking up a Nyarellean book or a new sword from the Marlyst Kingdom. I quickened my stride.

‘How did you find not talking to your family? Did you struggle?’ Eliasson asked.

What would he think if he knew not only was I able to talk to my family, but that in fact the only time they showed an ounce of interest in my life was when they had insisted on regular progression updates? And that Varqel took over the correspondence to give me a break from their suffocating demands? Every part of me wished there had been a hard and fast no communication rule for me like there was with everyone else.

I held his gaze, allowing the brutal honesty of my answer to show on my face. ‘I didn’t grow up in a family that openly displayed any type of emotion, let alone love or care. Salistyan’s don’t express themselves, nor do they place value on dwelling on matters of the heart. Everything is transactional, cool and calculated. The minimisation of familial contact was a blessing in disguise. Rest assured, Eliasson, my time on the Solista Isles was the best years of my life. If I had it my way, I would have never left.’

Eliasson opened his mouth to respond, but closed it quickly when a group of children ran towards us, having instantly recognised their king.

‘Your Highness!’ The children surrounded Eliasson with bright smiles. Giving me a nod to tell me he would catch up with me, Eliasson turned his attention to the children, forever the loving and involved king.

Growing up, I would have been lucky to have my parents give me attention let alone see them walking the street interacting with civilians. It was so damn different.

Making my way through the crowd, I ignored the stares that often followed me wherever I went. I was used to receiving stares of bewilderment because of my eyes; being a Salistyan-born Queen in Arlom just amplified it.

I aimlessly drifted through the market, smiling and waving at passers-by who were brave enough to hold my gaze. Some of the stalls were as simple as a piece of fabric with advertised goods laying on the floor, while other merchants had large carts where buyers entered to view products – the latter were usually owned by Marlyst merchants.

When I spotted a modest stall with a handful of tables covered in books scattered around the tent, I made a beeline towards it. On the tables, the variety of books were no doubt from the Queendom of Nyarelle. My eyes landed on burnt orange eyes of the stall-holder staring back at me as I took in the stall. The edges of her face revealed harsh, weathered lines, lines that could only be born from living so close to the Hudrielle Desert.

‘Greetings.’ I nodded politely before looking towards the books, keen to break contact with the all-knowing eyes.

The woman bowed her head, recognising another Dom’s royalty. ‘Was there anything in particular you were looking for?’

‘Just browsing, thank you.’ Smiling, I turned away and started sifting through the books.

The collections were quite impressive. The merchant had books on everything from agriculture to adventure to history. It wasn’t a surprise considering the Queendom of Nyarelle’s main purpose was to document the history of Fyriane. The Dom had an extensive library filled with archives and books, not to mention all of Fyriane’s authors were from Nyarelle; no other Dom had the time or the means to sit down and write a book like the Nyarellean’s.

Historically, the Doms worked in isolation, each contributing to the continent in their own, separate way. While Nyarelle recorded the history of the entire continent, the Marlyst Kingdom was responsible for providing weapons for Salistya’s army and farming equipment for Arlom. In turn, Arlom fed the whole continent and Salistya fought the beasts in the Tidal Seas, preventing their entrance to the Pass.

Eventually, I settled on a new romance book, one that looked like it would be suitable for both mine and Meredith’s tastes. How did she describe it? Guy chases girl, girl denies him, he fights harder to win her over, she eventually gives in. Yes, this ticks the boxes. It also sounds a lot like mine and Sir’s story, but I always choose not to read into that.

Turning around, I headed towards the merchant, intending to buy the book and find Eliasson when I caught something from the corner of my eye.

The black book was quite plain-looking aside from the vibrant lilac eye in the middle of the book which gripped my attention. It looked like it was glowing.

The World As It Was. No author. I was intrigued.

I handed the Nyarellean five gold for the two books, smiled and gave my thanks.

‘Your Highness,’ she spoke, just as I was turning away. I looked back expectantly.

‘Knowledge finds those who are meant to see.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘I suggest you use that magic of yours to deposit that book somewhere safe. It chose you; it is for your eyes only. Make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.’

I froze. How the hell does she know about my magic?

I looked at those damn all-knowing eyes, making a split second decision. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about,’ I lied.

She gave me a cunning look. ‘We both know your husband is only a minute away. Hide the book, Valare, or I will have to take it off you.’

I sifted through my magic, gauging all presences around me and latched onto Eliasson’s. Fuck, she wasn’t wrong, he wasn’t far off. But how did she know that? How did she know my name? More importantly, who is this woman?

‘Valare,’ she cautioned, using my first name again like we were the best of friends and hadn’t just crossed paths with each other a whole five minutes ago.

Looking at my surroundings, there was no one close who would see it, but the risk was too great. I shoved both books in my bag, ignoring the part of me that screamed to listen to the Nyarellean.

‘Who are you? What is your name?’ I quietly demanded, not wanting to make a scene.

‘I am a simple Nyarellean merchant,’ she stated. Well, obviously. Her burnt orange eyes and darker skin were a dead giveaway that she hailed from the Queendom of Nyarelle.

‘What is this you say about magic?’ I pressed her, pretending I knew nothing.

‘Knowledge finds those who are meant to see, Valare.’ A highly ambiguous response. Perfect.

I could feel Eliasson coming around the corner. Time was up.

‘You do not repeat this encounter to anyone. If you do, I will serve your head on a platter. Mark my words,’ I threatened.

The woman smirked, a glint of approval in her eyes. ‘Until we meet again, Queen.’

‘There you are!’ Eliasson put his arms around me and pulled my back into his chest. ‘Sorry I took so long, time just got away. Do you want to go get some of those plants for the garden?’ he asked, kissing my cheek.

I continued to stare at her, my threat in my eyes. Credit to her, though, she didn’t break eye contact once.

Mentally shaking off the events of the last however many minutes, I smiled at Eliasson, kissing him while placing one of my hands on the black book in my bag. I envisioned the only place I knew the book would be safe. A second later, my hand felt empty air.

‘Yes, let’s go get some plants.’

I turned around and took his hand as we walked back to the main street to be instantly engulfed in the busy crowd, all while feeling the burning stare of those orange eyes in the back of my head.

After a few more hours at the markets, we trudged back to the palace, both of our hands full with plants. I was excited to add to the collection in my quarters. We walked straight to the back, entering the royal gardens.

To the left, the kitchen door was strategically placed next to the large, sprawling vegetable gardens. We followed the path through the gardens, taking in the variety of produce ready for harvest just in time for the Royal Forum. I caught eyes with Mazyr in his chef’s outfit, picking some vegetables in the garden. We childishly poked our tongues out at one another behind Eliasson’s back.

In the middle of this part of the gardens, a path branched out from the left directing pedestrians through to its centre. Eliasson gave my arm a soft nudge and nod in that direction. I obliged, taking the turn to walk deeper into the gardens, a comfortable silence falling around us.

We walked under a hedged archway that spanned out to create a huge circle shielding the centre of the garden. It was completely private, away from peering eyes, unless someone were to venture down one of the four archways leading off in different directions.

Eventually, we stepped out of the lengthy walkway to an area housing a pond. My eyes darted to the statue of the Goddess Wystia in the middle of the pond. Water was trickling out like a waterfall from the palms of her outstretched hands, and in front of the water feature was a blanket and a woven basket which could only be filled with food.

A smile spreading on my face, I zoned in on the bottle of wine and two glasses next to the basket. Excited, I hurried towards the blanket, gently placing the plants and bag down before taking a seat.

Eliasson released a soft chuckle. ‘It doesn’t take much to make you happy, does it?’ Shaking his head with a smile on his face, he placed his lot of plants next to mine before sinking onto the blanket next to me.

‘Can you blame me? They weren’t jesting when they told me wine from Arlom is hands down the best in all the Doms.’

‘I guess we have the Goddess to thank for our fertile lands and desirable climate. And also the fact that we are the only Dom that makes wine.’

Planting a quick kiss on my lips, Eliasson reached back to grab the bottle, pouring an equal amount in each glass before handing me one.

‘To the Goddess Wystia,’ I said, lifting my glass.

‘And the Kingdom of Arlom,’ he added, clinking our glasses before taking a sizeable swig.

‘So, what do I owe the pleasure of your company for a whole day, husband?’ I asked, getting straight to the point.

Sighing, Eliasson looked around and noticed Amire appear inside one of the walkways, pruning away at the hedge. Apparently satisfied she was out of earshot, though I knew better, he turned his gaze back to me. ‘Can it not simply be that I want to spend time with my beloved?’

My eyes narrowed. ‘Although I believe that’s true, I also know you well enough to hedge my bets against that being the sole reason for this.’

Eliasson opened his mouth to refute my statement, but I held my hand up before he could proceed.

‘I tell you what. If I open this basket and there aren’t warm scones with freshly whipped cream and my favourite raspberry jam, I’ll apologise for thinking ill of your intentions.’ He knew I loved baked goods, even more so when raspberries were involved. This would be obvious that he was trying to get me on side for something.

He looked guilty before I even moved towards the basket. ‘Valare –’

‘I don’t even need to look, do I?’ Of course, I still looked. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.

My eyes fluttered closed, the smell of freshly baked scones taking over my senses. ‘You never play fucking fair,’ I moaned, diving into the basket, lathering a scone with a healthy amount of cream and jam before devouring it.

I reached into the basket for a second helping but Eliasson pushed my hands away. ‘Allow me.’

Well, if he was going to ask something of me that I didn’t like, I may as well make him earn it.

I leaned back on my hands, watching his meticulous application of the condiments. ‘It needs more cream. What’s a scone without an equal amount of cream?’ I thought I had trained him better than this.

Eliasson didn’t reply, merely rolling his eyes and placing more cream on the scone. He scooted closer, crossing his legs. He reached out, placed his hands on my outstretched legs and pulled me closer. My backside brushed his feet, legs wide and settled on the tops of his thighs.

‘Open wide,’ he commanded as he lifted the scone to my mouth, a shimmer of aroused anticipation in his eyes.

I held his gaze and obeyed his command, enjoying the burst of flavour in my mouth. He pulled back lifting his free hand to my mouth, a finger scooping up residual cream lingering there. My tongue expertly licked his finger, taking what he offered. His eyes turned a darker shade, showing he was becoming increasingly aroused. I had him right where I wanted him.

‘So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company for a whole day, husband?’ I repeated.

Eliasson shook his head and cleared his throat to gain control of himself. He placed his hands on either side of my hips, fingers lightly stroking.

‘I know the next two weeks will be very intense in the lead up to the Royal Forum. There is much to plan, living quarters to be arranged, menus to be decided, venues for conversations, the list goes on. I wanted us to have some time together, knowing we wouldn’t have a proper opportunity for at least another month. I’m hoping this Royal Forum doesn’t go over the two-week mark, like the last one did,’ he said.

Ah, yes. The Royal Forum is planned over two weeks. But the last Forum in the Nyarelle Queendom was a lengthy one, spilling over to be almost a month. Trade agreements were negotiated for days on end as tensions grew between the rulers, mainly due to Salistya and Marlyst. Salistya had the army, but Marlyst created the weapons, so it was a tense relationship. Here’s hoping there wasn’t a repeat of that.

‘Plus,’ Eliasson cut off my thoughts, ‘We also need to consider the new royal at the table. It would be inappropriate for us not to spend time showing him Amarald and providing an in-depth understanding of our Kingdom as a whole.’

With luck the new King of Marlyst will be less of a dick than his father. Then again if he is worse, perhaps I should consider giving him a medal as that would be a tough act to beat.

‘What do we know of the new king?’ I asked.

‘His name.’

I paused. My eyes flicked over to connect with Amire’s, confirming with her heighted sense of hearing she knew what was being discussed. ‘Okay, you’re on first name basis. That’s always a good start, but what else?’ I couldn’t help the snarky tone that entered my voice.

‘Well, I’m not on first name basis with him just yet. I found out through the messenger announcing that His Royal Highness Xylan Marlyst was crowned the new King of Marlyst. That’s it, Valare, that is literally all I know,’ Eliasson admitted sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.

Oh shit. ‘Well, that is …’ I stuttered, trying to find the right word.

‘A problem?’ He supplied.

‘I was thinking more along the lines of undesirable. But yes, it’s a problem. A big fucking problem. How do we, as royals, not know anything apart from the name of one of our counterparts?’ I was completely baffled.

‘The late Marlyst King, as you probably can recall from the last Forum, was a difficult character.’

‘Understatement of the year,’ I scoffed.

His lips twitched, his only sign of agreement. ‘Xylan was never brought to any of the Royal Forums, which is unusual as it is quite normal for an heir to attend. It seemed his father didn’t place any such importance on transferring his knowledge to his son so he would always attend the forums alone. His children and their mother were nowhere to be seen. It was like that for as long as I can recall, even when my father brought me to the forums as a child. No one dared to make any outright comment for fear of it significantly impacting their negotiations and ability to trade in the future.’

Well, that made sense. Who would want to be in the bad graces of the king who supplies the entire continent with weaponry and, in the Arlom’s case, the machinery and tools to farm and provide a living for their people?

‘Of course, the Queen of Nyarelle was in favour with the late King and the only person he showed a fondness towards. I remember watching the queen making all sorts of teasing comments as to why her favourite heir wasn’t at the table. Her jabs always came across as holding a double meaning no one else other than the Marlyst King seemed to understand. Again, your father and mine never dared to question anything, often pretending they never heard the comments in the first place.’ He shrugged.

I remained quiet for a moment, taking in all the information. ‘So, this Xylan … we need to build rapport with him, fast.’

Eliasson nodded. ‘Yes, which is what I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘Ah yes, the reason for the scones,’ I muttered.

Eliasson let out a laugh before he could stop himself. ‘Always so sceptical, Valare. Does it ever occur to you that I may just want to make you happy?’

‘No.’

Rolling his eyes, he returned to the previous conversation. ‘I need you to get close to Xylan and his people, find out what motivates them, what it is they want. His father was easy to read; he wanted money and a lot of it. Which was fine, I could work with that. But without knowing who this new king is, I don’t know where to begin on playing the game with him. We know Nyarelle is still in his back pocket, and I am hoping, as you are a born Salistyan and married to an Arloman, that he may reveal more of his cards to you as you have sway over not one but two Doms.’

Having sway over Salistya was a bit of a stretch. No one had sway over Slaviya. But here we were again, me being just another political pawn in the game. I understand where he’s coming from, and I’ll do it. But only because this will help my alliances once Eliasson is no longer in the game.

‘How do you see me getting close to this Xylan?’ I asked, intrigued to hear his response.

‘In any way you see fit in order to get to the end result,’ he replied instantaneously.

‘In any way?’ My jaw dropped in shock. I felt Amire’s body stiffen at the insinuation at the same time, clearly still within hearing distance for a mage. Maybe I had read him wrong this whole time. Maybe he was like the men I grew up with in the Queendom, not seeing an issue with using a woman’s body in whichever way it pleases them.

‘What is that look for – oh! Not like that Valare, what do you take me for? A man who is comfortable with using his woman’s body to further himself? Absolutely not. You are my wife. Goddess, that is despicable to even think that.’

I couldn’t help but sigh out a breath of relief at his genuinely appalled reaction.

‘It’s not like I haven’t seen it done before,’ I muttered quietly, feeling defensive. Memories of my mother crying in her room, broken over my father’s actions, flooded my mind. The sounds of fighting, her screams, his shouts, orders to do what he was telling her. I shuddered, staring pointedly at the arch behind Eliasson. I may put on a good front, but deep down I hold an intense aversion to conflict that even my training hadn’t been able to completely eradicate. It didn’t take a genius to work out why, not with my horrid upbringing, which Eliasson proved even with his limited knowledge.

Fingers grabbed my chin, inching it up to hold his gaze. ‘I am not Salistyan, nor am I anything like your father. Please remember that always, Valare.’

I refused to cry, trying to not let my mental armour crack. Not in front of him.

My responsive nod must have been deemed satisfactory as he moved his hand away to assemble another scone to my specifications. I took the momentary distraction to lock down the lingering thoughts of my mother.

He waited until I had taken a bite of the scone he held out before saying, ‘Now that’s settled, moving on to the next topic of conversation. I would like to discuss you moving into my quarters permanently.’

Woah! Fucking asshole with his timing forcing me to chew and actually think about my response before blatantly denying his request or risk choking on scone.

I swallowed the scone and the lump in my throat, calling upon all my restraint not to yell at him every reason under the sun why that wasn’t a good idea, starting with the simple fact that I like my own space and I hate sharing a bed. Oh, and I needed space to plan his demise, but probably best not to mention that.

With all the diplomacy I could muster, I kept my tone even as I enquired, ‘And where has the need for this discussion arisen from?’

‘Well, we’ve just celebrated our first anniversary. Some space was an understandable request to have as you became accustomed to your new home, the Arloman culture and way of living. I respected that when you first moved in. Now I feel we’ve got to know each other on many levels and aren’t strangers as we once were. But I think we should re-look at our commitments and duties as the rulers of this Kingdom. I feel that, if we were to sleep in the same quarters, we’d have more opportunity to work towards fulfilling those duties.’ His eyes took in my body, landing on my stomach.

Fuck. He wanted an heir. He wanted an heir, and he wanted it soon. In the foreseeable future. Not long-term anymore but short-term.

Fuck.

‘And by duties, you mean …’ I trailed off, wanting to hear him say what he was implying.

‘We need to start trying for an heir.’

Alright, this was not ideal. I couldn’t come off the contraceptive remedy, ever. I wasn’t sure I wanted children, much less with the man who’s supposed to be out of the picture soon.

‘I understand we have commitments to uphold, one of those being an heir. But do you think this is really the right timing, considering we’ll both be distracted with the Royal Forum? Also, is it really necessary for us to be in the same quarters? I don’t think anyone could accuse us of not having ample practice in creating an heir.’ I smirked seductively at my last comment, trailing my hand up his thigh in the hopes it would distract him.

He placed his hand on top of mine, intertwining our fingers and stopping my deliberate movements. ‘I’m not saying we need to try tomorrow, Valare, only that we need to start planning. I think it’s reasonable to start once the Royal Forum has concluded and the royals have left. As to our sleeping arrangements, I have been lenient enough.’

Right. Looks like no distractions are going to work which leaves me with negotiation as my only option. But first, flattery.

‘You’re being very reasonable Eliasson, so I can agree to trying for an heir. As to our sleeping arrangements, you know I don’t sleep well when I share a bed, and I think with everything at stake it wouldn’t be a strategic move. I should be at my sharpest when conversing with Xylan and his entourage. Having said this, I’ll agree to move into your quarters once the Royal Forum is over and life goes back to normal.’

I had to buy myself time. My Sol hadn’t even discussed our strategy for move number one, having been focussed on assimilating to the Arlom culture and setting ourselves up here. I need to be able to stay in my own room for this to work.

‘I’m not happy about the sleeping arrangements, Valare,’ Eliasson warned. ‘It’s embarrassing to think my wife doesn’t want to sleep next to me at night. What would others say if they knew?’

‘Happy wife, happy life?’ I jokingly replied.

Eliasson let out a frustrated breath. ‘Your wit is one of the things I love and despise about you, Val.’

He was quiet for a while, mulling over what I said. ‘Fine. I trust you’ll do your part and advise the healer of the decision to stop your contraceptive within the next two weeks.’

Stop the contraceptive remedy within the next two weeks.

This is all your fault.

Bright fuchsia eyes.

Knowledge finds those who are meant to see, Valare.

Over and over these recent encounters repeated in my head, fuelling my growing anxiety and knowing that something was coming.

‘Valare? Verbal confirmation would be the appropriate action right now.’ He sounded pissed. How long had I been lost in my thoughts for?

‘Yes,’ I squeaked before clearing my throat. ‘Yes, Eliasson, I’ll do what needs to be done.’

With a satisfied smile, Eliasson pulled me towards him, pressing his lips firmly to mine. I melted into him, arms looping around his neck pulling him closer, trying to shut my mind out from everything that was catching up to me. Trying to play the diplomatic wife. Trying but, ultimately, feeling like I was failing.

Sometime later, we walked back to the palace. On my way, I passed Amire. The sympathetic look she gave me was confirmation enough.

Things were about to get messy.