Soft fabric brushes my fingers as the maid gently pushes the gift into my hands. “He has sent an outfit for tonight’s feast, as well,” she says gently.
I eye the balcony.Should I throw myself off?
The number of feasts we have is causing my waist to grow. Even fae have to watch what we eat, just like the humans and mages do. “What is tonight’s dinner for?” I ask as I stare at the box; the plush velvet is smooth as water, and the fabric alone is worth a gold coin.
It’s heavy. Much too large to be earrings or a bracelet.Maybe he finally decided to collar me like the dog I feel like I am.
My maid glances down toward the market. “The feast is for the arrival of the Western squad. I believe a new general is to be named at the dinner.” Her tone is sharp and fast, like a fox running for its life as wolves chase it.
Each time a new general or leader deserving of praise comes back to the castle, the king throws a feast in his or her honor. He usually gives them land or titles, which is followed by another feast. Then, one more feast to send them on their way.
“What new general?” I demand. My vision pulses in sync with my furious heart. The box begins to slide from my sweltering grip.
“General Titus Tarragon, my Queen.”
You did it, Galen. You made sure I would never, ever love you!
My last hope that Galen would give in is choked off.
The box drops from my hands. My lady’s maid dives for it as if it were a newborn.
And me? I am on the verge of collapsing.
She reaches for my trembling hands and places the gift back into them, forcing me to accept it. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. This is the price of war.” Kings, princes, fathers, sons, brothers… they all die.
Just like my brother did.
War ignores titles. It’s the only time we’re all equal and can show how monstrous we are. That’s the only way to survive.
“Would you like me to start a bath for you? I can have a bottle of wine brought to you.”
Is she offering me death? To drink myself into a slumber? The water can grant me an exit.
I know Galen parades me like his trophy. I can accept that, but I want his respect along with his cock.Oh, and one morething. I don’t want him to give a title to the man he was throwing a feast for tonight!
So many women often drink away their sorrows. I refuse to be one of them.
“Tell the smith to have my bow ready,”I coldly declare.
The maid’s face pales, but she nods and rushes out of the room. I scare the women in this court because I like to hold a bow more than a limp, drunken cock. My knife skills are better suited carving my arrows than chopping vegetables for dinner.
It earns me respect from many of my husband’s soldiers, but it fuels gossip among the chattering females. Neither of which Galen likes. He doesn’t want his men to respect me because I can fight, so he has built me a training field hidden from their eyes. A place of solace I actually do enjoy.
Sable, my twin, also wields weapons. Galen let’s her roam this castle freely. Hers manifest in a sharp tongue and a wealth of hidden secrets. She endures the long parties, drinks with the wives, flirts, and fucks the men.
They fail to see how she stops drinking and listens, collecting all their secrets.
Blades dull with use, but secrets are like diamonds, never chipping as they strike. The only thing that can destroy them is another diamond, another secret.
Sable is a rock that absorbs everything: cold-hearted, unmoving, uncaring. Unlike a sponge, you can never squeeze Sable; you can never make her release anything unless it was on her terms. She’s much better at playing the role of a royal woman, but make no mistake—she is as conniving and vicious as a kingslayer.
You think I’m bad?Sable’s a new definition. As the second-born, she was taught she was less than, so she is determined to become more than everyone.
I slap my fist on the balcony, bracing it. “You knew this day would come and smack you in the face, so just make sure you don’t turn your head from the force of the blow. Don’t let them see how it affects you,” I hiss.
I clench my abs tight and shove away my tears.
