“Not a chance.” The torturer crosses his arms.
Her cloaked head tilts to the side as silence passes. “Leave, Lenzo.”
The torturer glances at the Queen with a look of disgust. “You can’t possibly be serious, Your Highness. He is a monster-”
“You have five seconds to vacate this cell before I reassign your position.”
His fists shake as he fumes over her command. But, eventually, he leaves them alone.
“Please don’t make me regret this.” She kneels to his level.
A floral scent wafts off her, cutting through his blood's metallic taste and stench. He has inhaled it once before. Perhaps even tasted the luscious bouquet.
Dammit, the Azure Blooms still muddle his mind.
“Good girl.” He licks his lips, relishing the momentary ease of the fire extract.
He spits more blood out at her knees and takes a deep breath, “We started the war because I was paid a bloody king's ransom to do it.”
“Who paid you?”
“Lord Leto. He wanted your dear king’s head severed from his tiny neck.”
Even if he wanted to ensure that you two married.
He shifts in the chains, still feeling the burning under his skin, even if the intensity has lessened.
She pauses as if in disbelief at his words. “Were you paid to continue the war after his death? Why was I so lucky to spar with you?” She spits.
Sigvid lets out a dark laugh. “No, Leto did not pay Salt to continue the war.”
She bristles under her cloak. “All of those we lost… I don't understand. Why would you continue the bloodshed?”
His gaze finds her hood, wondering if her beauty matches her voice. His cocky demeanor falters. “You are an excellent sparring partner,” he begrudgingly admits. “You gave me a wild year.” He twists his lips into a smile despite the pain. “I initiated the war and assassinated Rendel for the money. However, no one else has proven the challenge you did. I kept up the war because Ienjoyed you.”
“You’re lying.” She hisses between her teeth.
“I despise lies and prefer people to say what they mean. Truthfully, I was reluctant to end our game. The pleasure of playing with you was too great.”
“Why?” Her voice hardens.
“Why?” With a sarcastic grin, he answers. “You were the only one who rose to the challenge. Accept it, Avina. The war continued because I desired it to.” Despite his teasing words, there is a hard edge to him.
A light chuckle bubbles out of her chest and then quickly devolves into hysterics, which ends with her sitting on the floor, clutching her chest and crying.
“Well, I did not know I was that funny.”
He is concerned about this reaction. Why did his words elicit such a response? Deep down, he senses that her laughter is a release from some cruel darkness she has stuffed far down in the pit of her soul.
Sure, they played a strategy game against one another, but her mind is truly magnificent. Sigvid may want his revenge against her for defeating him, but damn if he didn’t respect the fuck out of Avina.
“To be clear, you are not the least bit comical.” Her voice hitches, and she stands to summon the torturer back. “I believe you have caused him enough torment for the evening. Guards, return him to his upright position.”
The torturer roughly gathers his tools, muttering under his breath,while Ridge Guards force Sigvid to stand against the stone wall as they chain his wrists and ankles.
“Come back tomorrow, big boy. I will be waiting for you.” Sigvid winks.
If looks can kill, the torturer would have struck him dead with his dull, lifeless gaze.
