Chapter 14
Iwas supposed to be playing a careful game. Appear loyal and subservient until I could find a way to get us out; snapping at lords wouldn’t help that.
With the condescending way in which Beatus spoke of Shade, I couldn’t hold it back. The simmering within my gut was all too familiar. The need to protect. To defend. The urge to launch myself across the table and wring the sour-faced lord’s neck. I hadn’t experienced it with anyone but Eleanor.
I glanced at the king, stealing myself for his reprimand, but he only chuckled in wry amusement. “Of course. What’s your name, man?”
He aimed the question at Shade, one he wouldn’t answer, so I murmured, “Shade. His name is Shade.”
“Shade? What kind of a name is that?” Beatus sneered, eliciting a few chuckles from the table. Only Kheal didn’t react and, in fact, appeared rather bored with the whole interaction.
I didn’t respond, nothing good could come from an argument with the increasingly obnoxious lord. I didn’t have to explain myself or Shade’s name to him.
Terym cleared his throat, killing the last of the laughter. He spoke only when he was sure he had everyone’s attention, even a glassy-eyed Lord Zyome. “Adelia, we encountered an issue this morning.”
My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. An issue? Was it Eleanor? Did he know the truth?
“You see, General Lenek attempted to command my new army, under my orders, of course.” The small rush of relief was short-lived when the smile he sent my way was anything but pleased. “It seems whatShadesaid yesterday may be quite literal, they will only accept your command. I would like to test it.”
I glanced at Shade, whose unreadable face was trained on Lord Orcan, of all people.
“Test it how?” I asked, my heart racing again. Surely, he couldn’t mean to kill anyone. Not now.
Orcan muttered something under breath, too low for me to hear, and Beatus snickered. Floral and wood thickened in the space, making someone cough. Terym ignored the posturing and rose, holding a hand out for me. “Come.”
I reluctantly took the king’s hand. A strange sense of unease settled over me the moment our hands met—everything about his skin on mine was wrong. As soon as he released me, I hid both hands in my skirts, removing the temptation for him to grab them again, and followed him from the tent.
Those seated at the table joined us, all the lords and several soldiers who I suspected were generals, given the deference the men we passed paid them.
Eyes bore into me from all sides. Soldiers. Generals. Lords. Only a boyishly round face topped with bright-orange hairoffered me kindness. Harkin smiled when I caught his eye, so I returned it with a brittle smile of my own.
Shade kept close to my side, eyes sharp and watchful. His finger brushed down the back of my hand several times on the short walk toward the field. That small touch grounded me as much as it elicited those forbidden feelings. Heat. Desire.Selfishness.
I did my best to banish them, but they lingered under the surface of my skin, ready to consume me entirely.
When we reached the edge of camp and the field beyond, our party spread out, everyone wanting an unobstructed view. Terym and Lenek stepped closer to the waiting sentient army, each soldier in the exact position I had last seen them.
The king gestured me closer, and I stepped toward him, albeit a little hesitantly.
As one, the army moved, kneeling as they had yesterday. This time, at least, they didn’t need to be told to rise. After the small show of reverence and fealty, they stood back to still and silent attention.
The king’s expression was laced with annoyance when I faced him. I had to be careful, now wasn’t the time to question or push him. “What would you like me to do, my king?” I inclined my head on the question, hoping it would ease his ire somewhat.
“We want to see what they can do. Demonstrate their skills.” Terym spread his arms wide on the last word, his voice projecting through the whole field.
I inhaled a shaky breath, approaching the still soldiers, keenly aware of Shade shadowing my every movement.
“Show us how you fight, please.” My voice wavered slightly, and it didn’t project as the king’s had. Despite that, the leather-clad men and women moved in perfect synchronization, separating into small groups or pairs—no rhyme or reason to the parings—and clashing metal erupted around us.
The graceful movements made the rough fighting I watched merely days ago seem like child’s play. At the time, I thought Terym’s men skilled. After seeing this, they were seriously outmatched if they ever faced each other.
I didn’t know how Mortremon’s armies would compare, but who could stand against this? So many would be slaughtered.
Nausea churned in my gut, and I stumbled down to the grass, willing the few mouthfuls of oatmeal to stay put.
I dragged my gaze from the violence, focusing on the blue and white flowers surrounding me. They were wilting, their once-vibrant colors now dull and lifeless. Petals sagged, a light dusting of brown appearing along the edges. It had to be the wish, something about raising the soldiers had disrupted the magic allowing them to continue blooming. The sight did nothing to calm the roiling in my stomach.
I sat among the wilting flowers while Terym’s generals walked a line before the sparring soldiers, avidly studying their movements.
