The Fae Queen's Warriors Page 6

  AFTER THE TOWN CRIER issued a royal decree that all citizens stay indoors, Kyria and Jade spent the day in their room. Jade was inconsolable, pacing and alternating between shattering plates against the wall and falling into Kyria’s arms in crying fits. She’d finally convinced her friend to busy herself with her needlework. Though Kyria hated that work, not to mention she wasn’t very good at it, she sat beside her, poking her thumb with the needle too many times to count while sewing droopy flowers on her tapestry.

  When the town crier called an end to the curfew, she sighed in relief while Jade drowned her sorrows in another cup of wine, spilling half of it on her tapestry. The cobblestone street below their window was soon abuzz with activity, merchants desperately peddling their wares before the sun set.

  Jade threw down the tapestry when the loud sound of Melandris’s clicking shoes echoed down the hall.

  The head priestess threw open the heavy wooden door to their chamber, a crazed look in her heavily-painted eyes. “Time to go, Kyria.” She clapped her hands, shooing the temple slaves into the room. “The new king has offered triple your bride price.”

  New king? Had Jade’s prediction come true?

  Melandris barked orders at the slaves. Before Kyria could protest, they were pulling dresses out of her wardrobe, ripping off her night robe, and braiding her hair.

  Letting her embroidery fall to the floor, Jade curled up on the window seat, observing the frantic activity with a slackened jaw.

  “I-I don’t understand.” Kyria winced when a slave laced her into a tight corset that pushed up her small breasts. “What happened to the old king?”

  Melandris shrugged. “He’s dead.”

  All moisture evaporated from Kyria’s mouth. Why wasn’t her priestess alarmed? “How?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Melandris waved away Kyria’s concern with a disinterested flick of the wrist. “What matters is you’re going to be queen.”

  “Don’t my parents have to consent first?” Kyria brushed away a slave when she tried to apply paints to her face. “Don’t I have to consent?”

  “Would you be fool enough to deny your king?” Melandris’s tone was shrill, and her large eyes practically bulged. “Coronation for King Milas will be tomorrow noon at the coliseum,” she said haughtily. “He wishes to announce his bride at that time.”

  Did that mean she’d be forced to marry him tonight? “Why?”

  “How do I know? You ask too many questions.” Melandris looked at Kyria as if she was about to scold a toddler for throwing a tantrum. “One would think you’d be more appreciative of this incredible opportunity.”

  “I am appreciative.” Kyria groaned when a slave slipped a pale green silk gown over her head. “I’m just overwhelmed. I need a moment to process this.”

  “No time,” the priestess snapped. “The royal carriage is waiting.”

  “Dragon balls!” Jade spat, dropping her wine goblet on the floor, her cheeks glowing as red as Mt. Olion’s lava.

  Melandris turned on her with a snarl. “Your friend is about to become the most powerful woman in all of Delfi, and that is your reaction?” She wagged a finger in her face. “Shame on you, Jade. Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

  Was that why Jade was so upset? Jealousy? Could her assertions that her life would become hell be nothing more than an attempt to prevent her from leaving? Perhaps Jade had fallen so much in love with Kyria that she hoped they’d remain temple spinsters.

  After the servants set Kyria down in front of the mirror, Melandris sidled over and rested long, painted fingernails on her shoulder. “I hope you remember all the good I’ve done for you.” Her voice was laced with so much syrupy sweetness, she feared she’d drown in it. “I have taught you an appreciation for music and art, how to pleasure a man, and how to be a good hostess.” She forced a smile that looked carved in granite. “This knowledge will be useful when you are queen.”

  Kyria gave her a dark look and jerked away. “What about scrubbing shit pails?” Craning her neck, she looked at her through hooded eyes. “Will I need to know how to do that when I’m queen?”

  Her smile thinned. “Humility is also a useful skill to have.”

  “Is it?” She laughed bitterly and avoided the paints the slaves tried to apply. “I will remember that when I’m deciding on a new head priestess.” She wasn’t sure if the queen oversaw the temples of Kyan, but she decided to include that when bargaining with the king, for she refused to acquiesce like a weak maiden when he offered his hand. As she observed two slave girls no older than twelve frantically trying to pack her silks into a trunk, she decided her conditions must be met. She dismissed Melandris with a raised eyebrow. “Leave my chamber.”

  Melandris’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “As you wish.” She bowed low and disappeared in a huff, leaving the smell of her overpowering perfume in her wake.

  Kyria walked over to the two slaves. Both girls were thin, like her, their skin a few shades darker than hers. She prayed they had no Fae blood and they filled out soon; a slave suspected of being Fae wouldn’t have a chance of escaping the noose. She helped them squeeze her belongings into the trunk, making sure they included her ugly sandals and her brother’s blade. “Do not fret,” she said, smiling encouragingly when they trembled. “If something is forgotten, I will send for it.” She motioned to the door. “Leave the trunk. It’s too heavy for you. We’ll find someone else to carry it.”

  They curtsied and rushed out the door.

  Bolting it behind them, she went to Jade, who was curled up beside the window, sobbing into her hands.

  Heart in her throat, she placed a hand on her shoulder. “Jade, my dear, please don’t be sad.”

  Jade wrapped her arms around Kyria’s neck and buried her face against her chest. “I wish you could refuse him.”

  “It won’t change our friendship,” Kyria said soothingly, rubbing her back. “I will send for you. I’ll make you part of my court.”

  “No.” Jade pulled back, alarmed. “Please don’t.”

  “Why?” Kyria tucked a thick strand of her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear.

  Jade jerked back at the sound of heavy footsteps down the hall. Wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, she said, “Listen to me.” Her voice crackled like dry parchment as she searched Kyria’s gaze with desperation reflecting in her eyes. “And do not repeat what I tell you to anyone. The vault is in his wardrobe. Whisper ‘imperi apertis’ three times, and it will open. Pour it out, but be very careful. Three drops will kill you.”

  They jumped at a loud pounding on the door. “Lady Faustus,” an unfamiliar voice rumbled. “Your carriage awaits.”

  “You speak of life water?” Kyria hissed. “Only the Fae have access to such an elixir.” The coveted water had been outlawed after the Fae had been expelled from Delfi. As far as Kyria knew, it could only be harvested in the Fae lands.

  The door shook again. “Lady Faustus!” the man bellowed. “We cannot keep the king waiting.”

  “Farewell, dear friend.” Jade kissed her hard, fresh tears dripping on Kyria’s nose.

  She didn’t mind the taste of stale wine on her friend’s breath as a deep, terrifying seed deep within her told her this kiss would be their last.

  Jade spoke against her lips in an urgent whisper. “Stay strong. Stay smart. May the goddess protect you.”

  Chapter Six

  KYRIA’S CARRIAGE RIDE was terrifying. She had no idea why the king felt the need to send along a dozen soldiers, two of which clung to the sides of the carriage and stared at her through the windows as if she was an animal caught in a snare.

  Though the acrid smell of smoke lingered in the air, the castle’s tall, blackened turrets were no longer on fire. Servants scurried like frightened mice as they shook embers off rugs and piled burned pillars in the backs of wide carts, each drawn by four large horses.

  When the head guard ushered her into the palace through doors high enough to allow a dragon entrance, her fear
was momentarily forgotten, and she gaped at the ornate statues and columns as she practically slid across the polished marble floors in her thin slippers. Why had she let the slaves dress her in such useless finery?

  They led her up a winding staircase and into a chamber fit for a queen, and she realized this could possibly be her chamber. The massive four-poster bed was piled with silk and gilded mirrors were on every wall. Her own personal tiled bathing pool was in the center of the room. Her breath caught when she spied the child dressed in the gray robe of a servant, standing on the balcony.

  Recognition flashed in the girl’s eyes, and she broke into a wide grin. Taking a hesitant step forward, Kyria held out her hand, pleased when she ran to her, curtsying before following Kyria to a marble table piled with wine, bread, fruit, and cheese.

  She sat beside the girl, holding her small hands. The prince, now the king, had not only kept his word and pardoned her, but he’d promoted her from slave to servant. For that she owed him a debt of gratitude. How could Jade think he was a monster?

  “Hello.” She moved a strand of the girl’s curly brown hair away from her piquant face. “What’s your name?”

  “Lea.”

  “That’s pretty.”

  “Thank you. It’s an old family name.” Lea beamed, revealing two missing teeth on her right side. Lea was too old to have missing baby teeth, which meant she’d lost the permanent ones somehow, most likely due to violence. That was the unfortunate fate of many slaves.

  “How are you? Are you injured?” She’d seen blood dripping down the child’s leg on the day she’d saved her from the dragon.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “A nurse sewed me up.” Lifting the hem of her gown, she revealed an ugly slash on her thigh held together with stitches. Kyria noted the fine needlework. Servants and slaves were usually treated less gently from second-rate midwives, but this nurse had been skilled.

  Kyria was pleased with the attention Lea had been shown. This had to have been the king’s doing.

  “Are you hungry?” She nodded toward the food, noticing the longing in Lea’s eyes, which were framed with dark circles and recessed into her skull, no doubt from years of starvation.

  “Yes!” Lea seized a fistful of grapes and stuffed them in her mouth. “You’re the woman who saved me.”

  She handed Lea a cloth napkin with a smile. “I am.”

  “Did you free me from jail?”

  Kyria nodded. “I asked the king to.”

  “Thank you!” Lea threw her arms around Kyria’s neck, melting into her.

  As she held the girl close, she realized the risk of exposing her Fae roots and possibly being eaten by a dragon had been worth it.

  “Where are your parents?”

  Lea frowned. “Back on Thera, I suppose.”

  Thera was one of the many islands Delfi soldiers frequently raided for fresh slaves, stealing all ages and sexes and forcing those who survived the treacherous journey back to Delfi into a lifetime of cruel servitude. For all their flaws, Kyria’s parents agreed with her that slavery was barbaric. Slave labor was cheaper, but they only employed servants, unlike Melandris, who relied on slaves instead of chambermaids, one of the many reasons she loathed her head priestess. Once she was queen, Kyria was determined to see an end to slavery.

  “How did you come to be a slave?” she asked, giving Lea time to finish a fragrant loaf of bread.

  The girl picked up an entire brick of cheese and took a bite. “I was picking berries with my cousin when men took us.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Kyria considered asking about the fate of her cousin but feared the child’s answer.

  “Will you ask the king to send me home?” Lea blinked, eyes wet. “I miss my parents. I cry for them each night.”

  It took all her willpower not to break down as she patted Lea’s shoulder. “I will ask him.”

  “Thank you.” She beamed. “You are my very own angel.”

  Kyria shifted uncomfortably at the compliment. When the Fae had first arrived on the shores of Delfi with their lean, lithe bodies and superior strength, they had been called angels. “I am just a woman.”

  “You are too modest,” a familiar voice said behind her. “The child is right. Indeed you are an angel.”

  She smiled at the prince. Correction: the king. Though he wore no crown, and looked exactly as she remembered from last night, he had changed. She saw it in the way he held his head and the flame in his eyes.

  Nudging Lea, she stood and curtsied low. “Your Highness.” She was pleased when the girl curtsied, too.

  “Call me Ahri.” Taking her hand in his, he raised her until they were at eye level. He snapped his fingers, and two gray-robed servants appeared and ushered Lea out of the room. She resisted at first, turning to Kyria with a silent plea.

  The king gazed at the child with a thin smile, his eyes turning cold and lifeless like a serpent’s. “She will send for you again soon.”

  There was no mistaking the fear in Lea’s eyes when she was led out into the hall. A shiver coursed up Kyria’s spine when the king looked at her. Suddenly he smiled warmly once more. She reminded herself a king had to appear aloof or his servants and subjects would take advantage of him. Besides, he had to be under an enormous amount of stress after overthrowing his father.

  “Don’t look so glum.” Crossing to her, he cupped her chin with smooth fingers. “I wanted to have a word with you alone.”

  All moisture evaporated from her throat. “Very well, Ahri, and you may call me by my first name. I am Kyria.”

  One corner of his mouth hitched up in an impish grin. “I remember your name.”

  “Of course.” She bit her bottom lip, wanting to ask about the burning turrets she’d seen that morning. “I hope you are well.”

  His top lip twitched, though the rest of his face was as stony as a statue. “I am, now that the crazy old bastard is dead.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath, surprised by his lack of remorse.

  He led her to the center of the room. She followed him on numb legs, her hand warm and clammy against his cool, smooth skin. He sat on a marble bench beside the pool and pulled her down beside him. She resisted the urge to pull back when his knee grazed hers.

  His eyes narrowed, turning blacker, like dark, sticky dragon venom swirled within his irises. “My words frighten you.” He stroked her palm with the pad of his thumb. She was alarmed at how cold he felt, like a corpse.

  Unable to stand his touch a moment longer, she pulled away. “I’m sorry.” How could she marry a man who frightened and repulsed her?

  “Don’t be.” He voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Do you know why I killed him?”

  Licking her parched lips, she shook her head.

  His hard stare made her feel like he was looking into her soul. A shiver coursed through her as if a thousand tiny spiders were burrowing into her skin.

  “After I returned from visiting you, I discovered rumors had reached the palace that the dragon you fought had wings.”

  She feigned shock. “Oh?”

  “My father said the rumors originated from Kyan’s temple.”

  “No.” She remembered the threats the late king had sent via the burly mercenaries. “We did not say anything, I swear.”

  “That doesn’t matter anymore.” He grimaced. “He ordered his guards to slaughter every priestess.”

  She felt as if the earth was about to open up and swallow her whole. “Great goddess!”

  “I have long suspected my father was becoming mad,” he continued, “but this confirmed it. That is why I had no choice but to end his reign.”

  She instinctively reached for his hand, less repulsed after hearing that. “Thank you for saving our lives.”

  He turned her hand over in his and stroked her palm. Melandris had taught her this was a pleasure zone. She and Jade had experimented enough to know it was true, but she felt only nausea.

  His eyes were two deep black holes. “Did your head
priestess tell you I offered triple your bride price?”

  Releasing a shaky breath, she did her best to still her nerves. She had to accept him, no matter how much he frightened her. “She did.”

  “What do you think about becoming my queen?” He continued rubbing her palm. Was he trying to rub her raw?

  She was drawn into his black gaze, like a deer captured by bright light. “I would be honored, but....”

  “But?”

  “What would my duties be?”

  Much to her relief, he released her hand. “I’m not sure. We haven’t had a queen since I was an infant. What would you like your duties to be?”

  When he reached for her again, she abruptly stood. “I want jurisdiction over the courts.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “I assumed you’d attend to more courtly matters, like choosing an artist to sponsor and throwing balls.”

  She bit her tongue at his condescending tone. Of course he expected her to attend to courtly duties. That’s what her temple training had prepared her to do: make a perfect politician’s wife, throw parties, and entertain dignitaries, but nothing of real substance. She wasn’t going to be forced into a marriage without any say on the terms.

  “I’d much rather oversee the courts.” If she could stand up to a dragon, she could make demands of her monarch. Once she gained control of the courts, she planned to reverse the laws that bound the slaves to Delfi, though she decided to leave out that part. She had a feeling he wouldn’t approve of her plans.

  He arched a brow, smirking at her as if she were a naughty child. “Is that all?”

  “And the temples,” she added. She wanted to see reform in the way the priestesses were treated, especially in regard to the way they were sold to the highest bidder. She also couldn’t wait to name a new head priestess. She wanted to deliver that news to Melandris herself.

  “Very well.” Sliding off the bench, he knelt on the marble floor. “If I agree to these terms, will you do me the honor of becoming my bride, Kyria?”

  Volatile ocean waves crashed inside her skull as her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Somehow she found the courage to speak. “Why me, when you hardly know me?”