Chapter 69

Arik

There was a reason I never allowed myself to care about any woman since the death of Ariel and that was this. I strode into that fucking room, full of my brother's sycophants and lickspittles, and barely restrained myself from jerking my sword free and just starting stabbing. There were no innocents—no one I could be bothered to spare, bar Selene, but when I saw her standing in front of my princess, my queen, it helped still the fire that burned inside of my heart. For the briefest of seconds, I felt a rush of relief that there was someone here looking out for Jessalyn, but it didn't last long.

It should've been me.

Over and over, I had failed every single one of the princesses—a track record that began with Ariel and continued over the years since. Suddenly, the idea of continuing that tradition was unbearable.

"Did he hurt you?" Magnus had stormed out of the room, shouting for his generals. Good. I'd have still asked the same words, drawn closer to Jessalyn like a bee might a beautiful flower. "Did he?"

I barked out questions like Jess was a soldier for me to command, but I couldn't seem to stop myself doing that, nor this. My hands took hers, blanching when I saw how tiny they were, but I pushed past that, searching for signs. Of broken nails from having to fight Magnus off. Or blood caked under the perfect almond shaped tips. Of joints swollen, fingers hanging at strange angles, but I found no evidence of that, which pushed me onwards. My hands slid up her arms, the thick brocade of her dress harsh against my palms when I knew her skin was so damn soft underneath.

"No," Jessalyn replied crisply, going to pull away, but she let out a small hiss when my hands skimmed over her biceps.

"What's that then?"

I was being a brute, spinning the princess around and undoing the lacing of her dress, just like my brother had intended to do before the entire court. My fingers paused for just a second, my breath coming in hard and fast before I forced my lungs to still and then fill much more slowly.

"Magnus grabbed me hard," Jessalyn replied, only the tiniest of tremors evident in her voice. "You saw that, saw him do the same to the other girls."

"I don't care about the other girls." I should. They didn't deserve to be treated this way by my brother any more than the princesses did, but none of that good sense seemed to pierce the hot, red veil of fury that coloured my field of vision. "I care about…"

My words dried in my throat as I peeled her sleeve back and saw the purplish bruise.

"Gods, what did he fucking do?" Roan said.

If I was worried about a stray courtier passing the open doorway and seeing us undress our future queen, I needn't have. Roan and Silas clustered closer, their focus and mine entirely trained on the dark mark on her arm, the centre of it a sick greenish colour.

"He hurt you?" Roan usually laughed, told jokes and tall stories with the other soldiers. He shouted for more beer until his voice started to slur, but the one thing he didn't do was growl in a way that rivalled Creed, like he did now. "That fucking bastard, I'll kill him."

"We'll have poison in his evening meal." Silas' tone gave no indication of what he felt, but his green eyes burned brightly now in a face that was milk pale. "We'll have to find a means to bribe his team of meal tasters."

"Regicide?" Jessalyn jerked out of my grip. "Poisonings? And a war breaking out… over me?" On any other woman that would've been a coquettish thing, but the princess tugged her dress back into place, reaching behind to tighten the laces and tie them in place. Those keen eyes seemed to take me and my band in—no, the entire situation—as her mind began to tick over. "You negotiated that with my father?"

I smiled despite myself, but it was more akin to the open mouth of a panting wolf than anything a man might do.

"I told Magnus not to marry the princess royal of Stormare. All his previous… victims came from far-flung realms. Small ones, ones led by weak kings or queens who would do little to retaliate against his show of ‘strength.'" I shook my head slowly. "But no one has ever accused my brother of possessing good sense. Your father was understandably worried."

She let out a little sigh, her eyes growing suspiciously shiny.

"I worked with him long and hard on the contract to try and alleviate those concerns. He hadn't considered the idea that Lanzene and Matteau might be looking for an excuse, any excuse, to wage another war against Khean."

"You'd jeopardise your own country?"

Jessalyn looked me over with a concerned expression, but she didn't know of everything I'd tried to do for Khean. Only to fail every time.

"I don't care for my country." I shouldn't be saying that. "I don't care for the fucking aristocracy that stood by and watched my father be slain and then turned on Ariel and her father, the Duke, when they tried to do what was right. I joined the army because I was forced to, because all those murderous impulses I nursed in my breast had to go somewhere. Why not against the bloody Lanzenians or Mattenites?"

I snorted.

"Everything I've ever cared for in this world was snatched away from me by someone who claimed Kheanian blood, which forced me to harden my heart against everyone but those who I could trust to hold their own."

I glanced at Roan, then Silas, and both nodded slowly.

"I thought that's what I had to do, to endure, to show my brother that he would never break me. When I spoke to your father, I thought he had gifted me the means to finally strike back at my brother, but instead…"

I had no right to touch her. I'd destroyed Jessalyn's illusions, her modesty, her hope for the future, as surely as my brother would when he finally got his hands on her, but I liked to tell myself I was much gentler with it. That when my hands slid up her arms, I avoided the painful places, keeping my touch light. My palms caressed the small, rounded points of her shoulders, her bones feeling like they pressed through the elaborate fabric, making her vulnerability apparent.

"I found something far more dangerous, more precious." Jessalyn's eyes were a sea I would gladly drown in. Storm clouds formed and scudded past as she stared. "Hope, Jessalyn, Princess, Queen." I shook my head slowly. "For that I will bring war to my countrymen. I will commit regicide, fratricide, and bear the sin of being a kin killer." My grin widened. "There is nothing I won't do to keep you safe."

"So then let's get Her Highness to the temple." Selene's voice was like a splash of ice water on my face. "There she is untouchable for seven days at least. The king will return to his chambers in a… testy mood after he has met with his generals. We don't want to provide him with an easy target for that rage."

Selene's words made good sense, but I didn't want to heed them. Let him come, that's what the boy with his father's blood on his hands shouted deep inside me. I thought he'd died along with the king, but he had been revived. My hand strayed to my sword hilt, something that had Selene's eyebrow rising, but the priestess shook her head.

"Princess Jessalyn—"

"Go with Selene," I urged. "She's Silas' sister, and she and the other ladies of the temple know how to keep you safe. Just keep your head down, and we will come for you when this is done. What happened here today?" I stared at the bed with all the anger, the enmity, I fought to keep back. "Nothing like that will touch you again."

Gods, the hot flames of purpose flickered across my skin, threatening to burn me whole, even as they defrosted the shroud of ice I'd been wearing since the moment Ariel died. I felt moments of resolve before a battle, the adrenaline and the sure threat of death able to defrost me, but not for long. This, however, the sure need to keep Jessalyn safe, to prevent her from facing any of the indignities so many women had dealt with before her, burned through that ice, leaving me naked and aching.

Which was perhaps why I did this.

If undressing a princess in the king's chamber was unwise, what was kissing her? Madness, that's what I felt as my mouth slammed down on hers. My hands on her jaw, my fingers sliding to tangle in her hair. The smell of her perfume, of night blooming jasmine and roses and her, just her, filled my lungs to the point where I no longer wanted to breathe air. It was the rapid intake of her breath through her nose, then the way she softened against me, that I needed most—that very moment when our bodies softened against each other's, slotting together as perfectly as if we were made this way.

"Stay safe," I declared finally as I yanked myself free, smiling at Jessalyn's dazed expression. "Just do that for me, princess, and I'll bring the entire world to its knees."

"Come along, Your Highness," Selene said, stepping in when Silas and Roan went to approach Jessalyn. "We need to leave the castle now."

I bore the sweet pain of watching Jessalyn leave far more easily now. The contract gave us seven days. Seven days to bring down a king, bring our enemies to the borders of my country, and somehow avert all-out war as my brother's head lay at my feet. My lips curved into a wicked smile.

"The Bastard Prince and his band has faced down some fucking hopeless missions before," Roan said with a shake of his head, "but this…?"

"Your father has a contingency plan?" I asked Silas.

"For everything." He sighed. "Plans within plans."

"Seems like a meeting with the Raven of Khean is in order then," I said. "I'm not sure we can pull this off with just the four of us…" I frowned, staring at the blank space where Creed should've been. "Three of us, but surely, with The Guild behind us…"

"That will come at a price," Silas warned. "Everything that comes from my father does."

Gods, I knew that to be true. This wasn't my first time bargaining with the Raven, but it was the first time I'd walk into his office, cap in hand.

"I'll pay it." I swallowed hard, shaking my head before starting for the door. "Whatever I have to give, he'll have if he just…" I strode down the hallway and out of the castle, glaring at servants as they scurried to get out of our way. "If he'll just help me keep Jessalyn safe."

"He will."

Silas' grim expression told me everything I needed to know. He'd ensure that happened either with his father's assistance or as he claimed the title of Raven from the man's bloodied fingers.

"Creed is making sure my brother has no external support from the army," I said as we reached our horses. "Let's see what we can do to undermine things within the walls." I swung back into the saddle, my muscles aching, but I was only dimly aware of the feeling. "First to the Raven, then…" Bile filled my mouth, the harsh taste of acid burning my tongue. "I think we need to set up a meeting with the Duke of Fallspire."

Ariel's father had sworn to support my claim to the throne before, but it hadn't come to much last time. I had to hope a revolutionary fire still burned within his breast. Or an avaricious one. The duke had been bold enough to support me against Magnus' claim to the throne. Perhaps he would see the wisdom of doing so again.