Font Size
Line Height

Page 17 of A Darkness So Sweet (The Kingdom Below #1)

Chapter Seventeen

RAGNAR

So many mixed emotions ran throughout Ragnar’s head. He shouldn’t have stood up for her like that. Especially not in front of King Egil. Chasing that thought was another that said he should have done more. Some part of him believed he should have postured in front of the king and threatened the man if he were to ever lay a finger on his troll wife and that wasn’t... him.

Ragnar was a healer. He’d never threatened to hurt someone outside of battle, but in that moment, he’d run through every single poison he knew of. He would make the king’s end terrible and swift, and that...

No. He couldn’t.

This was King Egil. He had done nothing but good for their people, and he had led them into a time where there was more reason and thought than there was animalistic desire.

Maia was proof that the humans would never work with the trolls. They weren’t even willing to give King James’s offspring to them, even with the absolute certainty that she would be worshipped by Ragnar. By all laws of his own people, he should let them punish Maia in retribution.

And yet, as he left the castle with her tucked against his side, he was very glad that he hadn’t. Because for all that she had seemed a frightened little thing who couldn’t speak her mind, she never let that break her. She stood tall and strong next to him; her legs moving at a run to keep up with his pace. But he couldn’t slow down, not when there were plenty of trolls behind them who wanted to say their piece.

“Gunnar...” She looked over her shoulder at the castle that was no longer looming over them. “Is he not coming?”

“No.”

“But didn’t you just give your house to him?”

“And he gave it back.”

Her brows furrowed, creating tiny lines on her forehead as she looked up at him. “Is it really that easy to give a house away here?”

“It’s just as easy for humans, fire hair. Let’s not make that comparison.” He ushered her away from the castle and toward his own home. “Keep your eyes down and forward. We don’t want anyone giving you too long of a look right now.”

“Why is that?”

“Because they all want to know if your betrayal is reason enough to kill you, Maia. The king has agreed to let you live for now, but that decree is not permanent by any means. Give the rest of them time and let me hide you so they can give up their hunt.”

His heart thundered in his chest, so distracting that he barely gave himself a second to look at his kingdom through her eyes. It was all lit with the glow from above. His home was always cast in pretty blue light. Giant mushrooms grew the farther they went from the castle. Each one was different, but all the plush caps were held up by thick, sturdy stalks. Maia brushed her fingers over the top of one before she hurried to keep up with him down the blue leaf covered path.

The farther they were from the castle, the more he could breathe. He filled his lungs with the scent of loam and earth, the headier scent of the mushrooms and the crushed leaves that crumpled beneath his feet as he moved. It was all so familiar and yet, with her standing beside him, it wasn’t at all.

Finally, they reached the perimeter of the forest and came out onto the edge of a cliff that dropped ever deeper into the earth. It was then he heard that intake of breath from her again that suggested she was shocked. And why shouldn’t she be? A city unfolded before them in the crevice of a mountain.

Far into the shadows, there were countless homes. Each one of them carved into the very rock face, but it wasn’t just homes. There were streets and markets and twinkling lights that filled the entirety of the cavernous space. Wisps readily roamed, seeking out those who needed a light to guide them places. All of it continued as far as the eye could see until the trolls themselves were tiny dots so far out of sight that they looked like children's toys.

The sound of laughter and the pealing of music rang up throughout the cavern and filled the mountain with the sound of troll joy. It was a beautiful sound, and one he had listened to his entire life. But right now, all he could do was stare at the woman beside him, whose eyes had widened.

“This is Trollveggen?” she asked.

“It is.”

“I didn’t know it would look like the night sky.”

Now it was his turn to frown. “The night sky?”

She gestured to all the lights laid out before them. “It’s like your city is made of stars.”

Then he saw it through her eyes. The twinkling starlight, the faint blue glow that highlighted everything with accents of silver like the moon itself lived in his home. The beauty of it, the way every inch of this place radiated with sound and energy—it all filled his soul with peace. Perhaps she was right. This feeling was the same one he got when he looked at the thousands of stars in the night sky.

“Perhaps it is made of starlight,” he muttered. “The elves designed it, and we all know how much the elves loved the stars.”

She shook her head. “I know very little about the elves, actually. My father had no interest in them, and my mother... Well, I think the meager power I have came from her, you see. So she wouldn’t have been able to teach me anything.”

“Why not?”

“She died.” Maia’s voice had turned quiet and wistful. “Giving birth to me, unfortunately. My father used to say I was bad luck for that.”

Something in him twisted. She’d mentioned her father a few times, and never in a good light. The man had seemed determined to wear her down, and soon enough, Ragnar would get the entire story out of her. Even if it made him hate her kind even more.

“Would you like to walk to our new home?” he asked, his voice low. “Or would you prefer that I carry you again?”

“Is it safe enough to walk?”

Ragnar mused the possibilities before relenting, “I think you’ll be all right.”

“Then I’d like to walk.”

Her grin lit up the entire space around them, and for a moment, he swore that her eyes glowed a little brighter green.

Stone pathways led down into the city and soon enough, they were there. Ragnar led the way so she wouldn’t get too many stares walking behind him, but that didn’t last very long. The moment they walked underneath the first brightly colored canopy, she was already out from behind his back and rushing ahead of him. Markets were dotted throughout the kingdom, and this was one of the smaller ones.

Without a single glance at the trolls surrounding her, his little wife was quick to race toward one of the food stalls. She lurched to a stop in front of her, her wild hair billowing around her head as she stared down at the food.

“Carrots, sweet potatoes, radish, and is that ginger?” she asked, pointing at the root vegetable and looking up at him.

He wasn’t sure. Ragnar wasn’t the best cook, and he’d never taken the time to learn. He preferred meat, and trolls could live on only meat for their entire lives if they wished. Raw and still bloody had always been his favorite, but there were some trolls now who preferred to add a little more fiber to their diet. He’d never understood it.

“Sure it is,” he said, looking at the troll behind the stall. The woman bit her lips to stop herself from laughing. Then he placed his hand on Maia’s shoulder. “Come on. We have to get to the house.”

“Right,” she said quietly, but he could see her mind was working so fast that her thoughts were protected on her face. “How do they grow underground, though?”

“The wisps,” the shopkeeper said. Her eyes were bright with mirth, still. “The wisps help them grow with magic, although it takes a little more work than it does above.”

“Fascinating,” Maia murmured. Her hand stroked one of the bright green stalks. “They feel like they were happy.”

“No magic in the general area of other trolls,” he muttered, grabbing her hand and yanking her away.

She reacted like he’d struck her. Maia curled in on herself, as if terrified at what he would do for her for practicing even the slightest bit of magic. “Sorry. I’m... I’m so sorry.”

That wasn’t what he wanted her to do. He didn’t want her more afraid because of what he said, but he hadn’t expected her to touch things. Sighing, Ragnar rolled his eyes up to the blue glowing lights and prayed to all his gods for patience. “You’re allowed to do magic here, but touching a vendor’s wares who has likely used magic to grow them is a recipe for disaster. You don’t know what spells have been woven to keep them fresh, and you might undo those spells. Or worse, make them stronger.”

Maia swallowed, but she didn’t flinch away from him like he’d expected. Instead, she seemed to take a deep breath and force herself to look at him. Those wide eyes were still full of fear, but she nodded. “All right. I won’t touch anything without asking first.”

“Good.” He patted her shoulder before releasing her. “Let’s keep going.”

This time, she didn’t rush away from him. She stayed at his side, staring at all the things that were laid out for others to buy. Soon they left the market area that was filled with an overabundance of food and moved into the part of the city where jewelers filled the streets. Gemstones lined some of the stalls, not placed into any piece yet but just there for others to look at and buy. The enchantments on them fairly hummed with bright energy that he could feel vibrating throughout his entire form.

It was divine to be home. He could feel the mountain welcoming them both, and it eased some of the tension in his chest. At least, until they walked by a stall that was decorated by the most stunning earrings. They all swayed in a slight breeze, the sound of their gemstones clinking together filling his ears. The sparkles caught his attention first, but then it was the song a pair of them sang.

Stones were easy for trolls to hear. He’d listened to them his entire life, and now knew that the quiet hum of their voices was something he could ignore. But these green emeralds called out to him.

Their song was a little different from the others. Sometimes gems were quite loud in their need for people to look at them, but these were quieter. He couldn’t help but turn his attention to them.

They weren’t the hoops she currently had in her ears. Tiny studs with small, imperfect emeralds that each had the slightest fissure through them. That was why their song was different. Because when they had been harvested, they’d still been bonded to the mountain they’d lived in and they hadn’t wanted to let go of that mountain. For that, they had broken just slightly, but they were no less beautiful than the earrings surrounding them.

He couldn’t help himself. Her wearing someone else’s earrings had been tormenting him from the start. He paused by the vendor and gestured at the studs. “Those, please.”

The shopkeeper was one he knew well. His daughter was sickly, and had been for some time now. Fluid built up in her lungs, so Ragnar knew he would see her again very soon. The shopkeeper didn’t even mention payment. He just nodded at the earrings and turned to another customer, all while Maia continued walking forward without even noticing he’d stopped.

Perfect.

Ragnar wasn’t sure why he didn’t want her to know that he’d gotten them, only that he wanted her to be surprised. In such a short amount of time, he was coming to... like her. And he didn’t enjoy that feeling in the slightest.

But then he saw the sway of her hips and how she didn’t care that she was in literal rags at this point, walking through a city of trolls who were all beautifully dressed and dripping with gemstones. She didn’t even notice the differences because she was so busy staring at all the new things. It was clear that she implicitly trusted he would keep her safe.

He hated how that fueled some part of him that had always looked forward to having a troll wife. She was his to protect, his to guard. That was his purpose at the end of the day. He would bring her peace, and she would give him softness. It was a partnership that went beyond reason, because it was fate that had brought them together.

And, damn it, his fate was with a human. He could see it now. He just still wasn’t sure yet that he liked it.

Catching up to her before she noticed he’d stopped, Ragnar placed a hand on her shoulder and steered her in the direction of his home. They were close now, and nerves churned in his belly. What would she think of it? He was certain it wasn’t the same as her home. Humans lived in squalor, it always seemed.

There were very few human and troll pairings. None that he remembered from his generation, and those who had come earlier, were usually noble. The people like him, the ones who lived in the base of the city and who had fought tooth and nail to get out of the ancient animalistic bloodlines, were not usually paired with willing human participants. His great grandmother had been human—he knew that. Her elven bloodline had fueled the many pairings that had led to his own powerful magic.

But he was still more animal than he was human. He was still too big, his ears too long, his stripes too visible.

Finally, they reached his small street. Wisps hung above them in the air, many of them clustering in the doorways to light up the homes of people who hadn’t returned yet. They would leave once the owners were back.

His own door had a symbol of bear on it. His father had been the one with a bloodline of such a creature, and that was why both he and Gunnar were so massive. But alongside the bear was the faintest hint of claw marks.

His mother’s tiger. The reason why he had his stripes.

Ragnar ran his own claws down the mark. It was something he’d done since he was a child, keeping his mother’s legacy alive as long as he could. Then he turned to look at Maia, feeling the earrings in his pocket dig into his thigh as he did so.

“This is your home now,” he said gravely, watching her features for any sign of remorse.