Page 51

Chapter

Fifty

S now began falling as she walked through the streets, and when she reached the cliffs leading to the place where she’d last met the king, her teeth were clattering so hard she worried one might break off.

Lessia’s ears remained trained, worry that Loche might once again be trailing her lying heavy in her gut, but no soft steps echoed behind her on the packed snow.

“Were you followed?”

Merrick slipped up beside her, his steps nearly silent, but his power surged through the air, and she drew a shaky breath, unsure whether the anger he radiated was because of her or something else.

“I don’t think so. But I was with Loche,” she admitted.

Nearly paralyzing dread gripped her heart.

If Loche followed…

If he found out who she was meeting…

She didn’t doubt he would confront them.

And there was only one way that could end .

Forcing her head to turn over her shoulder, she swept her gaze over the dark path.

No shadows walked behind them.

But Loche had sneaked up on her before.

She stumbled when her foot hit a rock, and only because Merrick gripped her elbow did she not tumble over the steep cliffs right into the freezing water.

“Watch where you’re going,” he growled.

Nodding, she drew a steadying breath.

If he didn’t allow her to fall to her death, perhaps the king’s visit wasn’t too alarming.

“Why is he summoning me?” Lessia peeked at him under her hood.

Merrick’s shoulders tensed. “I am not sure.”

“How are you not sure? He must have let you know to meet him.” Her eyes fixed on the cliffs before them, where King Rioner had last stood and waited.

They were empty for now, only the forest standing tall behind them, no cloaked figure perched atop.

“I told you. I am not sure. Now be quiet,” Merrick snarled.

Apprehension pricked her skin at his tone—so similar to the one he used before the election.

As they came to a halt beneath the cliffs, her tattoo no longer burned her skin, and she angrily swallowed the lump in her throat.

It didn’t matter if Merrick wouldn’t honor their truce now that his king was back.

She shouldn’t have been surprised.

He’d been loyal to the king for centuries, and not in the way she was through her blood oath.

They remained quiet as they waited, and as snow slowly covered her black cloak, she almost wished it would fall more heavily so it would fully coat the wool and provide a little bit of warmth.

When water sizzled beneath the cliffs, a thick stream forcing its way up, she squared her shoulders.

King Rioner stood steadily atop the rushing torrent, a burgundy cloak, held together with a thick gilded chain, covering his face. He gracefully stepped off when the waters reached the top of the cliff, and the stream immediately fell into the wild sea, drops of it trickling over her and Merrick.

Straightening his robe, the king took a step toward them.

Merrick dropped to one knee, and when Lessia didn’t immediately follow, his magic wrapped around her neck, forcing her stiff legs to bend in a deep bow.

“I’m surprised you haven’t killed her yet, Merrick. Although I’m pleased to know you still follow me blindly.” The king’s shining boots came into view as he stepped closer.

“You may rise.”

As Lessia lifted her head, her lips curled back in a hiss when Merrick didn’t let go of his grip on her neck.

A low chuckle escaped the king’s hood. “I thought the lesson my dear Merrick taught you last time would be enough, Elessia, but clearly, you still don’t understand the respect you ought to offer your king.”

She huffed breath through her nose, writhing under the oily vibrations playing across her skin. “I do understand, my king.”

“I doubt that.” The king brushed something off his cloak, the chain clinking as it shifted. “What have you learned so far, Elessia? And do not leave out any important details.”

Grinding her teeth against the stinging on her arm from the command, she struggled to keep her voice steady.

“The regent seems to have nothing to do with this, Your Majesty. It seems Stellia, a former captain of the navy, is behind it all. Her soldiers have been attacking us during the election, and her ships have vanished near where I heard others have.”

King Rioner clicked his tongue. “‘Seems to have nothing to do with this’… Say, Elessia. Did I ask you for speculations?”

As she opened her mouth, Merrick’s magic pushed her head down.

“Stop it,” she hissed.

“Are you asking your king to stop?” The king’s voice was lethal as he advanced toward her.

“No, Your Majesty,” she got out, the sting from her arm mingling with pain from Merrick’s magic as it forced her head further down.

King Rioner turned toward Merrick. “Is she following the orders I gave?”

Merrick straightened beside her, but his magic still wouldn’t release her. “She is doing what she believes she must.”

Lessia bit her cheek to keep the shock off her face.

He was protecting her.

“And what is it she believes she must do?”

“Find out what it is you seek to earn her freedom,” Merrick responded, his hold on her easing.

When Lessia continued to keep her head down, it lessened further.

Peeking at them through her lashes, she watched the king step closer to Merrick.

“And is she doing everything she can to do so?”

Lessia stiffened when Merrick’s loud swallow seemed to echo in the moment of silence.

“No.”

Her stomach sank when the cloaked king inclined his head.

“I should have known I needed to be more prescriptive. I thought the promise of freedom would be enough, but you’re a strange one, aren’t you, halfling?

” The king let out a deep sigh. “Elessia Gyldenberg, you must do everything in your power to find out what the regent hides. You will use your magic on him, you will threaten him, you will hurt him if needed. Do you understand?”

A gasp left her when she tried to fight the oath burning through her veins.

Shaking so hard that the snow beneath her cracked, she tried to remain silent—grasp at every ounce of control left inside her.

But when another wave of fiery pain crashed through her veins, she whispered, “Yes.”