“Wessex and Northumbria are to be ruled under me.”
I am speechless because this can’t be happening.
Not again.
The worst thing about it is that if I don’t agree, my children will suffer. And Aethelbald knows I will do anything to save my offspring. But he is forgetting one small factor—Wessex already has a king.
Unless…
“What have you done?” I ask under my breath.
Aethelbald leans in close, whispering into my ear, “Never forget the blood which runs through my veins. If you were me, you would not have done the same thing?”
I hate that he’s right.
He is simply avenging his family, his name, just as I have done in the past. I cannot blame him, no, but I am regretful that his revenge is at my expense. So many people are in danger, and it’s all my fault.
“Where are Skarth and Ulf?”
Aethelbald inhales in victory. “There are simply no words. Come.”
He unties the rope around my wrists and offers me his hand.
I snicker, refusing the offer as I would rather cut off my hand than hold his.
The soldiers look on with confusion. No doubt they were anticipating my bloody murder, but I am more valuable alive than dead, and Aethelbald will ensure I suffer in ways unimaginable for revenge on what I did to his family.
And what better way than by destroying mine.
I hold my head high as I walk past the soldiers. They will never be loyal to me. But if I am to be the queen of Wessex, they will have no other choice but to obey me.
When we are out of earshot, I shake my head, eyes ahead. “There is no way I am marrying you.”
“You are in no position to be making demands,” Aethelbald replies smugly. “Your children’s lives depend on it.”
Without thought, I strike out and punch him in the nose. Blood pours from it. A small victory for me, but a victory, nonetheless.
As he passes a lady-in-waiting, she gasps, quickly offering him a handkerchief. He angrily accepts, the white cloth soon staining a bright red.
“Just a glimpse of what awaits you…husband.” My comment is rolled in sarcasm. “Surely, you can find someone a little closer to your age. A docile maiden who will make it her lifelong mission to be ever serving to her lord.
“Mayhap you have mummy issues? Do I need to feed you from my teat then?”
Aethelbald snarls, gripping my throat and slamming my back against the wall.
I smirk in response.
“You will obey me, or I will have your tongue.”
“I do not obey anyone, you filthy bastard. Did you not learn from the lessons I delivered to your father and grandfather? Both cried like wee babes as I took their lives.”
Aethelbald’s eye twitches.
“Strong men they were not. Weak cowards who, in the end, bled like any other man before them. And mark my words…you will follow in their footsteps.”
“You cunt.” He tightens his grip around my throat, siphoning the air supply. Little does he know, I choose death over the alternative of being his wife.
He reads the determination on my face and, with regret, releases me.
