THERON
Exhilaratedfrom the most profitable and wonderfully violent Tribute Day yet, I navigate the darkened corridors with rapid steps, making haste for my bedchamber. Anticipation courses through me as I imagine sweeping Helena into my arms and carrying her to bed. I’ll hold her again tonight, and perhaps tomorrow we’ll sleep in together. I haven’t joined her for any meals since that first night she spent as my captive, and I resolve that I’ll at least linger long enough to eat breakfast with her in the morning.
As I round a corner, I encounter Commander Ashvale. It seems he’s on his way back downstairs to join the late-night drunken revelry. Not that I can fault him for it. With as many pleasure slaves as we acquired today, I imagine he is eager to take his pick.
“Good evening, King Theron.” He pauses and gives me a deep, respectful nod.
“Good evening, Commander. How fortunate that we ran into one another. I have a task for you that requires the utmostdiscretion.” I summon an aura of winter strength as I speak, for the task is one that would raise many questions if word spread among the soldiers. The last thing I want is to appear weak or sympathetic toward the humans.
“Ah, a task that requires the utmost discretion.” A wicked gleam enters the commander’s eyes. “As always, my king, I am at your command. Though I do hope the task can wait until morning, as I was on my way to have some fun downstairs.”
I bite back a smile. “Yes, the task can wait until morning. It’s quite simple, really. I need you to visit 12 Marlow Street and check on the people who live there, a human man and his daughter. Their names are Tomas and Isabel Sinclair, and they are friends of my… latest acquisition.”
The commander’s brows furrow. “Did the Sinclair household fail to show up today? All households were required to visit the castle and pay tribute, and the extra patrols we deployed on the streets of Braemar were supposed to ensure no one skipped the event.”
“As I said, the utmost discretion. I want to know if the Sinclairs are still living on Marlow Street and why they failed to show up today. But regardless of what you discover, you will take no punitive actions against them. You will leave that up to me.” Not that I will punish Helena’s friends for failing to show up. But I promised her that I would make sure they survived Tribute Day, and I fear she will worry when I inform her that they never showed up.
“Very well, King Theron. Consider it done.”
He makes to move past me, but I grab his arm and glance around to make sure no one is nearby.
“If the Sinclairs are not in residence at 12 Marlow Street, I trust that you will quietly track them down and inform me of their whereabouts,” I say in a commanding tone.
“Of course, my king. I won’t fail you.” His eyes glimmer with sincerity, making me confident that he will execute this task in complete secrecy. No other commanders will learn of my orders to track down two errant humans who failed to show up for Tribute Day, humans who happen to be friends with my little captive.
I exhale slowly, give Commander Ashvale an appreciative nod, and we exchange a quick farewell. As soon as I finish rounding the corner, I nearly break into a run. That’s how eager I am to reach Helena. I regret that I had to leave this morning before she awoke. I also regret that I couldn’t lounge in bed a bit longer and watch her sleep.
But now that Tribute Day has come and gone, I anticipate being able to spend more time with her going forward, at least until I must depart Braemar with the Winter Court army as we continue our patrols of the countryside. Of course, Helena is coming with me. I wonder if she realizes her days in Braemar are numbered. Will she be upset about the prospect of leaving? Or will she view it as a grand adventure? During our conversations, she hasn’t revealed whether she’s traveled beyond Braemar before, and I resolve that I will inquire more about her past tonight.
I reach my bedchamber, open the door with a gust of wind, and use my magic to shut the door once I’m inside. I immediately scan the room for Helena. Relief fills me when our eyes meet. Though I warded the room to keep her from leaving, and to keep anyone but the glamoured slaves from entering, it’s still a relief to find she’s right where I left her. Safe and unharmed.
She’s seated on the sofa closest to the crackling fire, a book splayed open in her lap. Before I take a step in her direction, her emotions slam into me with all the force of a winter wind.Sadness, grief, worry, and fear. My chest instantly tightens and breathing becomes difficult.
A few seconds later, her thoughts fill my head.
There he is. The all-powerful Winter King, looking as unbothered as ever. How many families did he rip apart today? How many humans were taken as slaves? Did he enjoy reigning over such a shameful, violent event? Isabel and Mr. Sinclair—are they all right? Please, gods, let them be all right.
My mood instantly darkens. How dare she judge me for doing what I must? I am the Winter King, and my purpose is to protect my people, even as the Winter Court is fading. I must protect fae interests as ussha spreads into the human and orc territories. I cannot allow humans to think they can get away with killing my people.
I growl and march toward her, my fury rising. She gasps and the book slides off her lap, landing on the floor with a thud. She scrambles to her feet, and just when I’ve almost reached her, she bolts around the sofa, using the furniture as a shield.
“Come here, Helena.”
“No.” She pales, and I sense her increasing fear.
Fucking fires. I don’t like it. I don’t want her to fear me.
I stop trying to chase her and lift my hands in a gesture of surrender. Drawing in several deep breaths, I force myself to calm. As I hold her gaze, I attempt to soften my expression, but it’s difficult when her thoughts keep echoing in my mind.
Did he enjoy reigning over such a shameful, violent event?
Yes. I did. The humans’ fear fed my power, and I’m now confident that it will be a very long time before anyone in Braemar dares to rise against my people again. The cruelty I showed the humans today had a purpose.
More of her thoughts spill into my mind, and each one is more unsettling than the last.
He looks so angry. Oh, gods, does he know I tried to escape today?
Is he going to hurt me? Please don’t let him hurt me.
