Page 36 of Throne of the Wolf Queen

Nothing.

A small group of dukes, lords and knights argued that if we wished to create a new Eusis, all those who’d bled for us should reap the rewards in our supposedly fairer world. But the regents refused to relent. The common folk had their freedom. The protection of their lords as they tilled the land. What more could they want?

The few nobles who retained their scrap of decency grew angry as their voices were drowned out. There was more than enough Vyrium to share out, but the regents feared losing out on their riches, of the possibility those they’d viewed beneath them gained the tools, power and skill to overthrow them. So, their grip on the Vyrium tightened. The nobles’ anger spilled over. After the first skirmish in The Alliance, they were thrown out. Banished.

With targets on their backs, they went to the only place they could: underground. They created a secret base, The Void, where they still hide to this day. Running against The Alliance, they do all they can to bring Vyrium into the hands of those who need it. As their methods grew increasingly violent, the concerned monarchs and their courts put tempting prices on their heads.

When King Raul Elmswood stood before The Alliance and spoke aloud the beliefs he’d hidden in his too noble heart, The Alliance acted quickly to prevent him from convincing others. The Midnight Insurgence had the opportunity to speak, to defend my father and say he’d had no dealings with them. But they remained silent. A silence that spoke louder than any incriminating statement. The resulting verdict crushed my father.

It crushed me.

Anger and resentment were all that burned in my bitter heart whenever I thought of them. The weight of Father’s punishment crippled me. I’d vowed to never, ever open up any communication with them. Raine had reached out shortly after my coronation, and I’d tossed the unread missive into the flames. I’d hold my throne. I’d make Father proud.

And here we were. The usurped King of Asmar, his dowager queen, breaking their fast with the very same rebels.

I grimaced, chewing the bacon and staring resolutely at the flames, when the sudden crashing of swords had me spinning around. My hand threw out, ready to protect Mother, when I peered into a gathered crowd. They surrounded a pair of rebels training with swords. Raine stood by, their arms crossed as they nodded at the pair who parried in an, unfortunately, rather impressive set of attacks.

I turned back, my cheeks burning. Mother, my mother, sat in black leggings, eating her homemade breakfast from her lap.

‘So,’ she sniffed. ‘Sorrow…’

In all honesty, it wasn’t merely the lack of time that stopped me from penning Mother a letter about my marriage. The few times she’d been permitted to visit me at Bronzehold, the constant look of horror etched onto her face whenever she and Sorrow shared the same space told me what she’d thought of her. She’d adored the ever-charming Enfys, who’d smiled in her pretty dresses, sat with her sewing and played the lute. Mother insisted Mercy’s youngest daughter was a far more suitable friend for the future king than the girl with dirt on her cheeks, who didn’t wait before she was spoken to. The one who preferred to stab people with her sewing needles.

Since I’d turned twenty, Mother presented me with a stream of suitresses. There was never any question of going through with my duty and choosing one. Not when I knew Sorrow’s heart still beat under the same sky. When I turned down Enfys, Mother immediately got on a boat and headed South.

I placed a huge grin on my face and met her fierce gaze. Gods save me from when those two were in the same room. ‘I was wondering when you were going to congratulate us.’

Her nose wrinkled as I said us.

‘You’ve always been reckless, Matthias,’ she said, ‘But to marry that⁠—’

‘I’ll stop you there,’ I said, rubbing the muscle twitching under my stubble and quietly delighting in how her eyes widened. ‘Do I really need to remind you, Sorrow is now your queen.’

Mother opened her mouth, and I raised my hand. I had to say this calmly before my mouth worked quicker than my brain and I said something to truly upset her. ‘She’s not only my queen, but my wife, my soul. Each moment I exist without her is a torture worse than the flames of Vyrus. To say I love her doesn’t do justice to my emotions. The agony, agony, of my heart tearing as she realised I’d failed her again.’

Something flashed behind my mother’s eyes and she stared down at my shaking leg, her jaw clenched as though she were fighting back words.

‘Please understand. I love her. I love you both, but she’s my wife now. My future.’

Last night, as Mother and that Raine had discussed what they could do with me under a blanket of silver clouds, I’d tried to form the words and tell Mother that she had to protect Sorrow, that I no longer knew if I could be trusted with the woman I loved. But no matter how I’d tried, the words refused to shape themselves on my traitorous lips. Even with Mother holding a fragment of the ruby, a part of me still belonged to the monster wearing my crown. It chilled me to the core that I might still carry out the mission she’d forced on me.

Mother smiled, a weak effort that failed to reach her dark eyes. She put her hand across my trembling leg.

‘Look at you.’

I exhaled. She was changing the subject yet again. Her go-to when the conversation failed to head in the direction she wanted. ‘Always so full of energy. You should ask to train with the others. Burn some of that out of your system.’

The warnings I so desperately needed to utter died in my throat. I turned back to where the shouts and tempting clashes of swords echoed. She was right. There was nothing like sparring and my ever-bouncing leg demanded I stand. But these were rebels. I could never spar with the likes of them, no matter how much I⁠—

I spun completely, finding my legs pushing me upwards and before I knew it, I was standing shoulder to shoulder with the rebels on the outskirts of their makeshift training ring. Narrowing my eyes, I glanced back. Mother raised her brow as she rubbed the ruby ring. I shook my head, making a mental note to watch her carefully. Perhaps there was a way she could command me to spill my secrets? But with the level of my deception locked deep within my soul, how could I ever get her to understand?

Sighing, I tamped down the ire burrowing into my lungs and crossed my arms as the two parried, raising an appreciative brow. I didn’t have to take part. I could just stand here. Watch. I knew the rebels were lethal when they wanted to be, but as the woman swept her male opponent’s feet from under him as she fell backwards to the ground, I had to admit that they were rather impressive.

The man crashed down, his comrades groaning in sympathy as the air was expelled from his lungs with a deafening groan. I eyed the other rebels, and my heart twisted as they clapped shoulders and shouted. It felt like a lifetime since I’d had this. The camaraderie, the kinship. Perhaps Mother was right, I thought as I rolled my shoulders. But as I turned back, she’d gone.

The woman on the ground sprang to her feet, pushed her red braid over her shoulder, and offered a hand to the man. Laughing, he accepted and the two limped off. As their fellow rebels met them with smiles and gripped arms, I spotted a man glaring at me. Tall, lithe and with the same Temlhen heritage as Mother, he raised his chin and approached. I kept my gaze on him as he stalked through the suddenly quiet training ring, a smile playing on his lips. Standing before me, he spread his arms wide, sweeping down in a mock bow. I clenched my fists tightly. It wasn’t his mockery that had my pulse thundering through my ears. I’d never believed I was better than anyone else because of the family I’d been born into. His eyes raked over me smugly, unimpressed and assured that if I were to face him, he was certain to be the victor.

I grinned as he strode forward, holding his gaze steady.