Page 10

Chapter

Nine

T he smell of food woke her, and with a groan, she pushed herself out of bed, every single limb and muscle aching. Dropping the blanket wrapped around her body, Lessia peeked down, holding her breath.

Black-and-blue bruising covered parts of her stomach, legs, and arms, but it was better than she’d thought.

Amalise was right—no broken bones.

Casting a glance at herself in the mirror beside the bed, she found her face free from bruising, even if her nose was a little red still from when it smacked into the stone.

Her amber eyes were red lined as well, her skin paler than usual, but that could also be attributed to her not eating last night. Picking at her bloodied and matted hair, she sighed and made her way out of the room, into the bathing chamber.

After a freezing bath, the delicious scents from the kitchen making her forgo warming the water first, she stepped out with dripping hair, her usual black trousers and tunic on.

Ardow stood with his back to her, freshly made bread on the counter beside him and steaming plates of meat and grains already standing upon the wooden table in the middle of the room.

Gray wintry sunlight seeped through the window, left cracked open to avoid the room filling with steam from whatever was brewing in the large pot Ardow stirred.

“Morning,” he chanted as he spun around.

When she raised her brows and gestured to the many plates, he offered her a sheepish grin and shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep, so I stayed occupied.”

Lessia smiled as the love she held for him won over the unease from last night. “I’m not complaining. This looks delicious.”

Rubbing her stomach, she lowered onto a chair, holding back a grimace when her legs protested.

As Lessia popped a piece of meat into her mouth, she groaned.

She and Amalise were lucky Ardow could cook. Neither of them had ever learned, and they might have starved those early days when they couldn’t afford to go to a tavern, or even buy much at the market, if it hadn’t been for Ardow’s skills.

“That good?” Ardow slipped onto the chair beside her.

She only nodded, stuffing her belly with the bread he offered. They ate silently for a while, until she could barely take a sip of water without nausea roiling in her gut.

Leaning back in her chair, she patted her stomach. “I definitely overdid that. I will miss this, Ard.”

When his eyes lowered, she silently scolded herself. “I mean, I guess it’ll just be a few days, right? Then I’ll be back here for you to fatten me up.”

He snapped his eyes to hers. “You know the election process takes months, don’t you? And you’ll need to stay with the other nominees for its full course. ”

“No?” Her stomach flipped when he eyed her again, his brown eyes narrowing.

“Gods, Lessia. It’s a whole bunch of events and tests. How do you think people would know who to vote for if not?”

She shrugged. She’d never thought of the election—she’d known it was coming up, but everyone assumed Loche would be elected again, and she didn’t particularly care either way.

As long as whoever ruled left them alone, let her run her public businesses and continue her secret occupation, they could go back to a monarchy for all she cared.

Fidgeting with her tunic, she reminded herself she didn’t need to win.

She only needed to get through—find out what the king sought, and find out why he was having her do this.

The apprehension shifted into resolve.

She would do this.

She’d made too many mistakes in her life.

This time it would be different.

It was an election. How hard could it be?

Ardow tapped the table impatiently. “Lessia, it’s not a game. They take this very seriously. And I fear this one will be worse, given how things turned out when Loche took power.”

Unease rippled across her skin, but she shook her head, pushing it away again. She didn’t have a choice, and the prize at the end—her freedom—was too great for her to let fear take root.

Lessia rested her elbows on the table, putting her chin in her hands. “What happened when Loche was elected? I thought he was the most well-regarded regent in the last century?”

Ardow rose and picked up some of the plates, casting her a warning glare when she made to help.

Sighing, she leaned back .

Her body would probably thank her for it.

“He is. By the commoners, at least, by the fishermen and farmers. But not the nobles, Lessia. Even if we got rid of the greedy royal family after the war, there was always—and I mean always—a noble as regent. You know they still own most of the land, control the ships, and keep most of the wealth to themselves. Even if it got somewhat better, it wasn’t until Loche that things started to truly change.

What you’ve seen the past years isn’t how it always was. ”

Ardow glanced out the window, drawing it shut.

“Loche was a bastard-born nobody, Lessia. He came out of nowhere but had built a network of allies across Ellow, across every human inhabited isle in Havlands. No one knows how he did it. He just showed up on nomination day with that gang of terrifying men of his and won the election.”

Lessia picked at a burn mark on the table. “All right, but he has done good things for Ellow. Everyone must see that, so I don’t understand why this election would be worse?”

“Not everyone, Lessia. He raised the taxes significantly for the nobles and has been distributing some of the families’ lands to allow farmers opportunities to grow their businesses.

They are angry, and they are still powerful.

They’re going to try to overthrow him, and might very well do it with the help of other candidates who nominate themselves for regent. ”

Ardow walked up to her chair, forcing her to bend her sore neck to look up at him. “It’s going to be dangerous, Lessia. These men… they won’t hesitate to get rid of someone who gets in their way.”

She reached out to grip his hand. “I don’t plan on getting in anyone’s way, Ard. I am going to participate, but that’s it. I’ll keep my head down, stay out of trouble. Regardless, they don’t have anything against me except me being half-Fae. Most will probably not even look at me twice. ”

Despite her words, cold sweat kissed her forehead.

The people of Ellow tolerated her presence in the taverns, mostly because they usually were intoxicated enough not to care about anything other than their next cup, or whoever they flirted with for the night. But someone with Fae heritage taking part in the elections?

It was unheard of.

Ardow’s jaw clenched, and he brushed his fingers over her arm, right over her tattoo.

“If you don’t think whatever you’re expected to do will get you into trouble, you’re not as clever as I thought you were.

And I know you don’t believe it, but I have a feeling you’re going to do better than you think, Lessia.

You’re a natural leader, and I’m worried it won’t just be the nobles coming after you.

Loche and his men won’t take nicely to someone challenging him.

He expects it from the nobles, but you… He’s dangerous, Lia.

Shit, I am this close to stopping you. I have a bad feeling about this. ”

Lessia shifted his hand away, covering the tattoo with her own. “You can’t stop me, Ard. I have to do this. And you cannot get in my way.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, his eyes half-crazed. “What if I try? You’ll use that mind control of yours on me?”

She couldn’t stop a snarl from escaping. “I can’t believe you said that! You know I never have, and I never would.”

Rising to her feet so quickly the chair fell over, she made to sprint out of the room, but Ardow wrapped his hand around hers, spinning her.

“I’m sorry.” He dragged his other hand down his face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Lia. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you never would. After what happened with your—”

She snarled at him again. “Don’t.”

Thickness clogged her throat when bloodied golden-brown hair flashed before her eyes. Squeezing them shut, she forced the memory away, drawing deep breaths to clear her mind.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m just worried for you.”

She looked up at him, her heart aching, and lifted a shaky hand to cup his cheek. “I know. I’m sorry too. For everything I cannot say, and for whatever I’ll keep from you in the future. But I promise, I will be careful, and after—” She couldn’t say it, but she let hope shine through in her eyes.

His eyes softened. “There could be an after?”

She only stared at him, but the corners of his mouth curled and he pulled her into a hug, lifting her off her feet. A huffed breath rushed through her teeth when his embrace pressed on the bruises, and he quickly set her down, his grip loosening.

“You go kick some ass in that election, and after , we’re going to celebrate for a month.” Ardow pulled back and winked at her. “Maybe more.”

Heading toward the door, he motioned for her. “Come on, I’ll help you get packed.”