He pulls her off the chair and takes her toward the steps to the second floor.
“Sigvid? We need to have you examined.” She vainly tugs away as he nearly drags her up the stairs. “Your food is hot now.”
“My love,” he turns to watch her confused expression, “you are going to allow me to fuck you over and over and praise your perfection until I can sleep soundly again. Do you understand me?” He doesn’t allow her to answer and slams his mouth against hers.
54
AVINA
January 28th, Year 1, 10th Era
The Holy Triangle, Treland
The Salt drums pound mercilessly, thumping in time with her heart's rhythm. Courage streaks in her blood, and she knows that if she stops to consider what she is about to do, her confidence will waver to ash. She steals a hesitant glance at Sigvid, who perches on the edge of his seat, his elbows balancing on his knees and his chin buried in his hand.
She swallows hard as a gust of the winter wind whips across the fjord, shuddering the flames of the torches lining the path to where she sits. Numbness clings to her bones because there is no longer room for compassion.
Not anymore.
Over the last two weeks, the battle for Treland raged across the fjords of Salt and into the rolling hills of the southern Ridge Province. The Drengr and Timber Armies now hold an upper-ground strategic position in ‘The Holy Triangle’—the only location in Treland where all three provinces merge.
“Shadow,” Bertie approaches her side, leaning down to whisper, “they require your judgment on the prisoner.” He squeezes her wrist while offering a light kiss on the top of her head.
Bile rises in her throat as she forces her gaze to remain at the end of the row of fire. Her heartbeat thuds in her chest as General Tyo strides forward, stopping halfway through the line of flame to bow. “Your Majesty, as Avina Bloodstone, you are the heir to the Ridge Province. Therefore, you must charge the following prisoner of war for his crimes.”
She bites her tongue as three Drengr drag her father through the line of torches. No longer is the Ridge King dressed in his usual finery. A ragged tunic shredded along the sleeves, and a faded pair of trousers adorns the regal Ceowald Bloodstone.
Her warriors force him to his knees at her feet, and she finds herself unable to look at him in this weakened form. But this moment has long been on Avina's horizon. When Tyo pulled her aside three days ago to explain the identity of their newest captive, she knew the only way forward is public sentencing.
Ceowald lifts his head with his usual haughty air of indifference. He looks the part of a fallen king with his gray hair in disarray and a beard growing upon his face since their last interaction outside the Salt dungeon.
“Well, well, well. Hello, daughter.” His lips curl into a snide smirk.
“King Ceowald Bloodstone of the Ridge, you will hereby receive your ruling by Queen Avina-” Tyo looks to her, and she nods, “Redwood of Treland.”
Her father throws his head back and laughs. “Sentencing? What am I to have done to warrant this blatant maltreatment?”
Sigvid rises from his seat like a vengeful god. One of his blackwood axes is ready as he stalks around Ceowald as if sizing up his prey.
“Ah, I see you brought your pet barbarian, Avina.”
Ceowald’s head falls back in a yowl when Sigvid slices his forearm and then lays his ebony blade along his neck. With a savage glee in her warrior’s eyes, he growls into his ear, “Continue to speak to her as if you have any power here, and I will demonstrate how barbaric I can be.” He removes the axe, leaving a small cut.
Sigvid twirls the blackwood shaft, “I suggest you keep your waggingtongue still astheQueen delivers your punishment. Or I will hang you by your balls from the rafters in my home.” He grabs a fistful of Ceowald’s silver hair. “Do I make myself clear, Leto?”
Ceowald smirks. “Does the violence you exert ease the grim reality of your existence? Knowing you live to assume the throne of Treland only because your dear father felt Salt would not bow to a Redwood? That’s right, you simple-minded beast. Avina doesn’t need you to wear the crown. You are nothing.”
Sigvid places his boot in Ceowald’s chest and lays him flat on the ground.
Avina leaps to her feet, teetering in the snow, unable to decide whether to join Sigvid or stop him. Even with the Lord Commander's gory recommendations, he is adamant that Ceowald’s fate be her decision.
Ceowald’s gaze never leaves her. “Are you pleased, daughter? You have sought out this beast for years. Is it everything you ever wanted?”
“Stop!” She raises a hand into the frigid air, halting whatever devastation Sigvid intends to wreck. He instantly retreats as she closes the distance to her father with quivering fists.
“You abandoned me to raise myself in the Sapphire Palace.”
He chuckles and looks away with a shake of his head.
