“And this, dear Cousin, is where it gets interesting. You see, it does not matter if I can prove it or not. What does matter is my lineage and right to ascend to the throne. A right you took for yourself. But no more.” He took a long stride forward,then another, quiet menace with every step. “I am here to claim what all present know is rightfully mine. Now, Get. Out. Of. My. Chair.”
The king scoffed, scared, yes, but with an ace up his sleeve of his own. “You cannot make me, and your claim is null and void. None with uncontrolled, contaminated runes such as yours can hold the throne, and you know it. Your pigment is tainted and cannot be cured.”
Braxxos’s laugh took him off-guard. “Oh, you are quite right about the laws. None with tainted runes can occupy the throne. But my mate and I—myInfalamate—share the same blood.”
“Impossible. You cannot Infala bond. Your pigment is unpure, and no mating can cure that.”
Braxxos didn’t hesitate, whipping his shirt off in a flash, revealing his pure, untainted pigments with not a hint of green remaining in them, as well as his now glowing Infala rune.
“My mate is from a distant realm, far from the Dotharian Conglomerate’s reach. And her race’s blood, never once touched or influenced by our pigments until her arrival on this world, reacted quite differently than our own people. She has brought me not only love, but has restored me as none from our realm ever could.”
The treacherous king was beside himself, but the evidence was incontrovertible. “Impossible!” he shouted, utterly at a loss, feeling his life, his rule, slipping from his grasp.
“Oh, I assure you, it is not. Guards, remove this traitor from my throne.”
The guards didn’t hesitate, moving as one, hauling the man on top of the world only moments ago unceremoniously from his perch.
“Take him away. I will decide what to do with him later. For now, I would have him confined to a clean, safe, andverysecure cell.”
“My Lord!” the men shouted in unison, then hauled the man away.
Braxxos ascended the dais and ran his fingers over the ornate throne. He looked at Margot, a barely contained grin creasing his lips, then sat, the rightful king at last upon his throne.
“Hail King Braxxos!” the guards shouted.
All present cheered their reply. “Hail King Braxxos!”
Margot shook her head in disbelief.Well, this certainly wasn’t what I expected,she mused with a chuckle.But I’m not about to complain. But what does this mean?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Margot spun around slowly, taking it all in, still rather in shock from the recent revelation.
“Wow.”
“You approve?”
“I mean, justwow. This is—I don’t even have the words for it.”
She was referring to his royal chambers, the private residence for the king of Gimballa. The resplendent, incredible place she was, apparently, now calling home.
“Yeah, it is a bit more opulent than I remember it. But I was just a boy, and having grown up with all of this around me, I guess I just took it all for granted.”
She laughed. It was all so unlikely. So amazing.
“And then you became a dirty mountain man.”
He pulled her close and planted a delicious kiss on her lips. “I wasnotdirty. At least, not my body.”
“Oh? You have something in mind?”
“You know I do. But first, I do have some things I absolutely must attend to. Dropping in out of nowhere after all these yearstook everyone by surprise, and there are alotof things I will have to address, and immediately at that.”
“Of course,KingBraxxos,” she said, cupping his crotch firmly. “But when you’re done, your woman has many,manythings she wants to do to you.”
His cheeks flushed and he couldn’t help but swallow hard. “Not my woman,” he said softly. “MyQueen.”
Now it was Margot’s turn to blush bright red. “Wait, are you serious?”
