“Exactly. As you said, we need to consider Kailia in all this,” Cethin replied. “Her safety to be more specific. Right now, she’s just my betrothed. If she carries the title of queen, it will provide more protection.”
“How in the realms do you figure that?” Razik cut in. “You’re the king, and you’ve been attacked repeatedly in these last months alone. It doesn’t create less of a target; it creates a bigger one.”
Cethin’s silver irises leveled on him. “Then perhaps she needs a better equipped guard as well.”
“You had the best we have with you out on this hunt, and both of you ended up unconscious with severe injuries,” Tybalt interjected. “That’s not on Razik. If anything, it’s on you for even going on this hunt with the recent attacks. Like Razik said, your title puts you in more danger, not less.”
“The title also carries more power,” Cethin argued.
“Why are you so adamant about this?” Tybalt pushed. “Not three months ago we couldn’t even get you to contemplate a marriage, and now you are wanting to rush a union? What are you not telling us?”
Razik waited to see if he’d tell Tybalt how he was all but extorting the female for the kingdom. Forcing her into a union for access to her weapons. But there was more to all this. Razik had witnessed the obsessiveness and intrigue, and the king was different around her. He had to be. Kailia’s personality and mannerisms forced anyone to be different with her.
Cethin pushed slowly to his feet, determination on his face. “We need her weapons to defend this kingdom. Marriages have been arranged for less.”
“Cethin,” Tybalt chastised in exasperation. “It does not have to be done this way.”
“Like you said, the council and citizens of the kingdom have been pushing for this for years. I’ve been repeatedly lectured about my disservice to the kingdom for waiting so long. My commitments and reasoning have been called into question. She’s more than weapons.” He paused, gaze lingering on heragain. “She’s so much more in ways I think we all have yet to discover.”
“Maybe we should let her decide when she wakes,” Razik interrupted. “She might not even be awake in four days, but are either of you really going to be ready for such a thing? And even if you are, she should have some choice in all this, even if it’s as minor as when it happens.”
“Take some time to get to know her more,” Tybalt urged, trying to appeal to logic.
“We’ll have the rest of our immortal lives for that,” Cethin said, limping his way to the bathing chamber.
“And her choice in the matter?” Razik called after him, a familiar unease setting in at the idea of her not being given a choice in her own future.
Cethin paused at the doorway, turning to look at him knowingly. His words were cold and dark when he said, “It’s nowhere near the same thing, but she has a choice. I’ll just make sure she makes the correct one.”
Then he went into the bathing chamber, closing the door.
Razik shoved a hand through his hair in frustration.
“What do you know, Razik?” Tybalt asked, his uncle’s scrutinizing gaze fixed on him.
“I know she should have a fucking choice in this,” Razik said, his dragon becoming restless in his soul at his own agitation.
“Cethin’s right. It’s not the same thing. This union and the Guardian bond are?—”
“Both require a willingness,” Razik snapped. “And when forced, both will lead to a resentment that can be damning.”
“And if she’s willing?” Tybalt asked. “Then what will your argument be?”
Razik walked to the door that led out to a small balcony, pulling it open. He needed some fresh air to cool off. He neededto shift and go flying, but he couldn’t go anywhere while his charge slept.
Feeling the spring wind on his face, he stared out at Shira Forest behind the estate as he said, “If she’s willing, we’re inviting something in that could be just as damning. Either way, we’re fucked.”
Chapter 19
Kailia
With a deep breath, she released the arrow, feeling the familiar small whoosh of air on her cheek as the string snapped back into place. She watched the arrow find its mark, the stag she’d been tracking dropping instantly to the ground. If she’d been using one of Cethin’s arrows, it would have likely run off into the trees, and she would have had to follow a blood trail to its final resting place. Her arrows with her magic made its death quick and merciful. At least, that was the case for animals.
This also wouldn’t have taken so long if she’d been barefoot. As it were, she had boots on, and they were anything but silent as she made her way through the small clearing where the stag lay unmoving. Kneeling before it, she pulled the arrow free. Not all beings dissolved into ashes with her weapons, but all of them crossed the Veil. Placing a palm on the warm fur, she sank her fingers in, bowing her head to send a prayer of thanks to Temural. But then she saw the Mark on her forearm.
The Mark that she could only see when she was dreaming.
Her head snapped up, and she scanned the surroundings, trying to remember. But it wasn’t until the figures emerged from the trees that everything came rushing back to her. These were magical beings, Fae or Avonleyan judging by their arched ears and primal grace. They wore all greens and browns, colors that would blend in with the trees, and thick leathers added another layer of defense to their attire. While there were weapons strapped to them, her concern was the power at their fingertips and swirling in their palms.
