Page 11

Chapter

Ten

L essia’s chest felt as if it were splitting wide open as she walked through the icy roads of Asker, her feet dragging, not because her body ached but because she had to force herself to put one foot in front of the other to leave her home behind and head toward the square where the nomination would take place.

She hadn’t been able to say goodbye to the children, hadn’t been able to look into their eyes and pretend everything would be fine. And Amalise had refused to meet her gaze as they said a quick goodbye at home.

She’d almost broken down then.

Couldn’t bear forcing her friend through another goodbye, even if she prayed this one wouldn’t be permanent.

It had taken Amalise a long time to open up, and now…

She rubbed her burning eyes, swallowing against the dryness in her throat.

She didn’t have a choice.

Even if the king had offered her one, she might have chosen to do this for the chance at freedom, might have agreed to anything to escape the danger she put them all in daily.

And if there was truly a risk of war, she needed to do everything in her power to stop it.

An arm slipped over her shoulders, pulling her closer, and she shot Ardow a grateful look when he didn’t acknowledge her frustrated stomps but kept his gaze on the glittering path, his eyes darting between the homes lining each side of it.

Amalise had arrived in Asker about the same time as Lessia, hailing from Gostkan, a small isle in the north of Ellow, but Ardow was born here.

According to him, all nominees were allowed one person to accompany them for protection or support—or perhaps both—during the election.

And while she’d hated herself when she told Amalise, Ardow was the obvious choice.

His parents weren’t nobles, couldn’t be, with the Fae blood running through his father’s veins, but they had influence over the farmers in the south. And he knew more about the election, and the participants, than her and Amalise combined.

She needed him.

Amalise knew it as well, but it would take a long time for her to forgive being left behind.

Amalise’s protectiveness made her take on the riskiest missions, always being the one to travel on the ships to Vastala—even though she was human.

But this time, Lessia couldn’t allow her to do so.

There was too much at stake, too much to gain, so even if she knew Amalise would feel like she’d stabbed her in the back, she’d had to ask Ardow.

She only prayed her best friend would forgive her.

“She will,” Ardow said softly. “She hates that she doesn’t have control, Lia. But she’ll forgive us. She probably already has. ”

Lessia frowned at him. “How do you always read my mind?”

Rolling his eyes at her, he squeezed her shoulders again. “You wear every emotion on your sleeve. It’s not that difficult. But you should probably work on it. We’re nearly there.”

Lessia snapped her eyes forward.

The narrow path before them opened into a wide square, the houses surrounding it taller than the ones in the rest of the city, casting it in deep winter shade.

Metal lampposts stood every few feet, but the frosted glass offered little light on the crowd that had gathered, filling nearly every inch of the pebbled courtyard.

A small dais had been set up before them, a few men already milling atop it, all of them in the black uniforms and masks Loche’s men favored.

More of Loche’s men were posted around the square, their uniforms stark against all the white, and there were groups of nobles scattered here and there, their cloaks a mix of muted green and rich purple.

Ardow shifted his arm from her shoulders to grab her hand, and gently dragged her through the crowd, leading her right beneath the raised platform. Excited whispers surrounded them, people discussing who would nominate themselves and who could stand a chance against Loche.

Lessia did her best to tune them out, keeping her eyes trained on the graying man who approached the dais. One of Loche’s men helped him up, and when the crowd quieted, the entire square falling silent, nerves began swimming in her gut.

“As the Guardian of the Law in Ellow, I am happy to welcome you all today.”

Before continuing, the old man—whose name she vaguely recalled being Frayson—glared at a few people who continued whispering. “Today marks our twentieth election in Ellow. The twentieth time our people will choose who will represent them. Who will vow to keep them safe and keep Ellow prosperous.”

People around her began cheering, the clapping and whistling hammering against her temples.

But when Frayson held up his hands, everyone quieted once more.

“One hundred years ago, a greedy king was the reason for thousands of people in Ellow perishing, through war or hunger or heartbreak following their loved ones’ deaths.

Liaising with the shifters to win more land in Havlands, he tricked our people into war with the Fae.

It wasn’t until an unlikely alliance formed by one of our people, a lowborn fisherman, with the Fae king that the bloodshed ended.

After the war, we decided as a nation to give control to the people of Ellow, to every far-reaching island, to allow each individual a say in their future.

To ensure our nation never again falls because of the greed of one man or woman.

To ensure we keep the peace that has allowed us to thrive. ”

More cheers rang out, and it was all she could do to keep hold of Ardow’s hand as her body tensed, her knees nearly buckling.

There was so much hope and excitement pouring from the men and women around her.

And she was about to make a mockery of it.

She’d make them think she wanted to challenge the man who’d brought so much joy to the people who’d had nothing, as if she didn’t respect and care how he’d pushed and fought and won for them.

Her shoulders hunched.

This was going to be torture.

But the thought of the fates she held in her hands kept her feet planted instead of sprinting back to the safety and familiarity of the warehouse.

She lifted her eyes to Frayson when he continued. “Today we will once again give you that choice. I will now ask those who deem themselves worthy to step up and nominate themselves. Please make your way up here and declare your name if you believe you should have a say in Ellow’s future.”

Ardow grabbed her hand tighter when a strangled sound escaped her throat, and her eyes flew to his. Shaking his head, he nudged her forward, but before she could get a hold of herself, a man stepped onto the dais.

“You all know me,” he drawled. “Loche Lejonskold. I’ve been your regent the past five years, and while I’ve accomplished a lot, I have more to give to Ellow. I have more to give to all of you. And I won’t stop until you have it.”

The cheers were deafening.

The crowd tightened around her as they chanted his name, several men yelling that they didn’t need an election—there wasn’t a question who should continue leading Ellow.

Loche flicked his dark hair, a smirk on his face as he offered the people a shallow bow before stepping back, leaving the front of the dais empty.

Lessia wasn’t surprised when Zaddock jumped up, following Loche and taking the spot beside him, his gaze sharp as he swept it across the people.

She shifted her eyes to Loche.

He stood unyielding and with a straight back, his expression unreadable as he glanced out over the crowd.

Lessia’s brows pulled as she took in his face.

He was so young.

Somewhere in his late twenties, Loche was the youngest regent Ellow had ever known. She had seen him before, of course. But only from a distance, and up close like this, it was difficult to comprehend how a man only a few years her senior had accomplished so much already.

“If he wasn’t so terrifying, I might have pursued that. Lethal and beautiful. Makes me want to see if there is any softness under all that muscle,” Ardow whispered, his eyes glittering.

While Ardow was impartial in who he invited into his bed, she knew he only made the comment for her benefit, to try to take her mind off what she was about to do.

She gave him a grateful smile, but as she opened her mouth to respond, another man stepped onto the platform, not as gracefully as Loche, but with his chin lifted high.

“I’m Craven Bernedir. My family have been farmers in Ellow for generations, and while I haven’t been regent, I have experience that younger men don’t.”

Craven spun on his feet, not bothering to bow to those who clapped—far less than for Loche, but still enough that it made Lessia nervous for the current regent.

“Farmer,” Ardow spat. “His family is one of the richest noble families—they exploit the farmers, pay them far less than their worth, but because his family owns so much land, they don’t have a choice but to work for them.”

Lessia clenched her jaw as Craven took up a spot next to Zaddock. She’d heard of his family, had purposely not used them as a supplier for the taverns based on the rumors of how they treated their workers.

A woman, dressed in a navy uniform with shining black hair cascading down her back, mounted the dais next.

A woman Lessia recognized very well.

Stellia Silversvard was a commander’s daughter and had led several fleets in the navy herself as a captain.

Well regarded within the navy, she was known for her fair but strong leadership.

Stellia didn’t accept failure, but she also rewarded loyalty, and men far older than herself had followed her into dangerous waters.

Stellia and her men had sojourned in Lessia’s taverns for years, never causing any trouble, and, according to her staff, tipped very well.

Stellia introduced herself, and cheers, mostly from soldiers, followed as she stepped back with a tight smile on her face.

Lessia drew a breath. “We should probably—”

“I’ll be the one accompanying you.” Merrick slipped in between her and Ardow, shoving the latter so hard he stumbled back, right into a group of men beside them. “Leave.”

As he righted himself, Ardow glared at the Fae, and his eyes widened when the Fae blood running through his veins allowed him to see through Merrick’s glamour.

“You…” Ardow trailed off when Lessia managed to shake her head, a chill creeping up her neck.

Nostrils flaring, Ardow snapped his eyes to Merrick again.

“I don’t think so,” he snarled quietly, readying to get into Merrick’s face.

But when Merrick’s magic flitted over her shoulders, a warning squeeze brushing her neck, she stepped around the Fae.

“Leave it, Ard,” she pleaded.

She’d been lucky the past years. Merrick had seldom shown up when her friends were around, and in the rare instances he did, she was always able to rid herself of him quickly. She wasn’t about to risk them getting anywhere near his deadly presence now.

Not when she was close to being rid of him forever.

Ardow grabbed her arm, trying to pull her behind him, but she struggled against his hold, ignoring the strange stares they were beginning to gather .

“Please,” Lessia begged him. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Go home, and I’ll come find you as soon as I can.”

Shaking his head, his eyes frenzied with rage, Ardow made a rush for Merrick.

The magic instantly tightened around her neck, and Lessia gasped for breath, stopping Ardow in his tracks.

“What’s happening, Lia?”

When she couldn’t respond, her lungs empty and eyes glazing with panic as she struggled for air, he spun to face Merrick.

“You’re attracting attention,” Merrick purred. “I’ll take good care of her as long as you all behave, I promise .”

“You—”

“I’d think you’d want her to behave as well, Ardow. Otherwise, who knows what secrets might come out?” There was no mistaking the threat in Merrick’s quiet voice.

Ardow blanched, and Lessia was certain her coloring matched his—and not because of her empty lungs.

She wasn’t surprised he knew Ardow’s name—he’d followed her for years, after all—but did he know of the children? And if so, how? He’d never come by the house, at least never when she was around, and none of their night guards had mentioned him sneaking around either.

Swaying as black spots began dancing before her eyes, she grasped at her throat.

“She’s about to pass out. Not that I particularly care, but I believe she was about to nominate herself, so that might prove challenging.” Merrick yawned.

Ardow desperately met her eyes again, but when she narrowed hers at him, he threw his hands in the air.

“Fine, just let her go. I need to see her breathe,” Ardow hissed .

The pressure loosened, and Lessia nearly fell into the Fae when she was finally able to draw a breath.

Merrick reached out as if to steady her—or perhaps keep her from running—but she caught herself at the last minute, recoiling from his touch.

“Leave,” she got out.

“If you hurt her…” Ardow glared at Merrick.

“She said leave.” With that, Merrick wrapped his hand around her arm and forced her to spin around to face the dais.

When she glanced over her shoulder, Ardow was nowhere to be seen.

She sucked in another shaky breath.

It was for the better.

Now he could help Amalise, and if the elections were as dangerous as he believed, it was better he was safe at home.

No need to risk both their lives.

But even so, loneliness snaked its way into her heart as she stared at the platform, where another man had just nominated himself while they’d argued.

“I guess it’s you and me now, Elessia.” Merrick pushed her a stumbling step forward. “Time to shine.”