Page 38 of Blood King, Part I (Crowns #4)

Cyrus frowned. “But they were still making a decent profit?”

The councilman bobbed his head uncomfortably. “ A profit, yes, but—”

“We’ll bring back the minimum wage, then. If they’re not making a profit”—he gave a pursed smile—“they can come with their grievance.”

“But, Sire,” Fatim said, “there will be implications for—”

“They can come with their grievance,” Cyrus cut him off. “I do three a day.” He shot an annoyed smirk at Essandra.

The group of men in front of him all smiled wide and bowed low, uttering repeated thanks.

Essandra stepped closer to him as the men shuffled out. “You need to take this more seriously,” she whispered harshly.

“I am taking this seriously,” he replied without looking at her.

“No, you’re not.”

He turned abruptly in his chair. “In what world did you think I’d be good at this?”

“No world,” she hissed back, “but it’s what you get for not picking a magistrate.”

He gritted his teeth. The second group to air their complaints moved in front of him. They were a rough bunch—field workers maybe—but they all bowed respectfully, and Cyrus focused his attention.

“What’s your grievance?” he asked them.

“Not really a grievance,” one of the men said, stepping forward, “but still an ask.”

“Go on.”

“We want to know if the crown will buy back slaves that were sold to other kingdoms so families can be reunited.”

Cyrus straightened in his chair, and any smirk that he’d previously been wearing fell from his face. The slave trade tore families apart, he was no stranger to this, but to have these families still trying to reunite with the ones they loved, for them not to have given up…

“Yes,” he said finally. “Of course.”

Loud murmurs rippled through the throne room.

“Sire,” Fatim interrupted, quickly stepping closer. “We don’t have that kind of money.”

That wasn’t true. “We just found quite a bit of money.”

“Not enough. We’d bankrupt ourselves completely, and then some. Not to mention that that money is already earmarked to keep our grain and rice storehouses from emptying.”

Cyrus shrugged. “We’ll do a little at a time, then.”

“Over what—the next hundred years? It would take an unfathomable amount of time, and the number of kingdoms that would entail cannot be confined to a small list. Do you know the resources it would require to track down all these people, find out where they are? We don’t even know if they’re still alive.

There are no records. On top of all that, to have to purchase them back. We simply don’t have the means.”

So, Cyrus didn’t have the means to go get them, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help. “Make it known,” he announced, “if people can find a way to get here, they’ll be granted refuge and safety. Any slave, of any kingdom, anywhere.”

The murmurs among the hall grew louder, and louder still.

“Sire,” Fatim interrupted him again, “we barely have the means to support our own population. The kingdom isn’t yet stable; we’re still rebuilding.”

“We’ll figure it out. We can also help others overthrow their own kingdoms.”

The hall grew even louder.

“Cyrus,” Essandra hissed.

Fatim sputtered as if he might have choked on his own tongue. “You cannot so openly be talking about aiding rebellions!” he exclaimed.

Cyrus shrugged. “Why not?”

“What about Serra?” came a call from the crowd.

His skin heated at the mention of the slavers’ kingdom. He stood. “I would destroy Serra,” he said bitterly. His voice didn’t sound like his own.

The reaction from the crowd hit him like a wave. Serra was the reason most of them were here, including Cyrus himself and nearly all his men. Rael hadn’t captured their own slaves—they’d bought them from the slave traders.

“What about the Shadowlands?” another man asked.

Cyrus froze. The Shadowlands. His heart seized in his chest. Was it even a possibility to think about the Shadowlands?

“All right, I think that’s enough grievances,” Essandra called out, sweeping forward.

Her flurry broke him from the clutch that held him, and he glanced at her now in confusion. “That was only two.”

“And one too many. You’re supposed to be solutioning punitive complaints, not committing Rael to war. This was a mistake.” She pulled at his arm. “Let’s go.”

He moved to follow, but a woman’s yell caught his ear. “No!” cried the voice.

Cyrus’s gaze shifted to a commotion toward the back of the hall. He couldn’t see the woman, but he could definitely hear her.

“I need to see the king!” the woman shouted. “He said he’d see three—I’m not leaving!”

“Let her through,” Cyrus called, and he waved the crowd to quiet down.

Essandra pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

A petite woman bumped her way forward. She was older than Cyrus, perhaps in her sixties. Her dress was simple yet well made, and she wore a pair of large spectacles that she pushed up as she stepped in front of him.

“What’s your grievance?” he asked her.

She straightened, as tall as her small frame would allow. “I’ve come to ask for my father’s house.”

“What about your father’s house?”

“When my father passed several years ago, ownership was given to my husband. When my husband passed away this last year, the home became property of the crown, instead of reverting to me or to my daughter. As you’re seizing land now, I ask that you give it to me.

” She held up a thin finger, not pointing but clearly making a point.

“My family has never owned slaves—one of the very few who can say that in Rael—and this house has been in my family for six generations. Please, Sire. I ask that you grant it to me.”

This seemed easy enough. “Give her the house,” he said to his master of records. He turned to go.

“Thank you, Sire,” the woman said, breathless, but then added quickly, “It’s just… to do that, you would also have to amend the law that women cannot own property.”

He paused and turned back to her. “There’s a law that women can’t own property?”

“Yes. It’s all listed in the Accords.”

Cyrus narrowed his eyes on her. He knew that there was something called the Accords—the laws of Rael—but he didn’t know what was in them. Mostly because he didn’t care. “Do you practice law?”

The woman pursed her lips. “No. Women aren’t able to practice law. But I studied while my husband was alive. He afforded me the opportunity to pursue many of my interests.” She calmed a bit and swallowed. “He was a very good husband.” She paused. “I miss him.”

Cyrus nodded, still looking her over curiously. This was an interesting woman. “I’ll strike these laws,” he told her.

Murmurs rippled through the hall again.

She clutched her chest. “Thank you, Sire! And for these women who are now able to own property, might you change the law so that a wife may keep her property that she brought to the marriage, should she choose to divorce her husband?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

The murmurs grew.

“Then you’ll also strike the rule that prevents women from divorcing their husbands.”

The hall became so loud he could barely hear anything else.

Cyrus held up a hand to silence them. He couldn’t help the hint of a smile that came to his lips. He liked her. “A woman won’t be held a slave to her husband. If she wishes to leave him, she may do so and be protected by the law.”

The quiet hall became even quieter—the quiet of shock.

The woman stood as still as a statue, staring at him in silent realization of everything she’d just heard him agree to. Her eyes welled.

But he did have one question… “If your husband is dead, why are you asking about divorce?”

“I merely wish to make this kingdom better for my daughter, for Rael’s daughters. For Rael.”

He genuinely believed that, and she seemed like a woman who could do it.

Suddenly, a pull came in his mind—the pull of the blood bond. Bravat. He needed to wrap this up and get out of here. Quickly.

“You want to make this kingdom a better place?” he asked the woman.

“Of course.”

“Perhaps you’d best do that as magistrate.”

Gasps rippled through the throne room, and the woman’s mouth fell open. “Me, Sire?”

He shrugged. “Do you not know the law?” She obviously knew it better than he did.

“Well, yes, but I—”

“Do you not have an understanding of what needs to be changed to make Rael fairer and more equitable for all its citizens?”

“Perhaps, Sire.”

“Do you not want the job?”

“I would be honored, but I am not nearly qualified—”

“Welcome, Magistrate.” He paused. “What’s your name?”

“Ruth, Sire.”

“Well, Ruth, settle things with your father’s house— your house—and return to the palace tomorrow to start listening to these gods-damned grievances.”

Cyrus turned and strode from the throne room. He waved off everyone who tried to talk to him as he left, and he didn’t even look at Essandra. He knew her scowl would pierce him straight through. He slipped into an empty drawing room, closing the door, and let his mind chase the bond to Bravat.

Only it wasn’t Bravat.

It was Kieve.

“ Brother, ” he said in surprise as he entered Kieve’s mind.

“ I went back and found Bravat, ” Kieve said. “ He gave me one of his vials. ”

“ Is he with you? ”

“ No. When I told him the portal had been cut, he decided to take advantage of the additional time to plunder another temple. ” Of course he had. When Cyrus saw Bravat again…

“ Jaem’s with him, ” Kieve added.

Well, at least Bravat had one responsible person with him. That was good. Cyrus needed to break the news that he didn’t yet have a way to get them home.

However, before he got to that, Kieve said, “ I found out who captured the Mercian queen. ”

Cyrus’s curiosity instantly quieted him.

“ The Shadow King, ” Kieve said.

Both Cyrus’s body and his mind froze. So, the Shadow King had taken her.

A chill crept up his spine as a faint memory flickered. His dream—the Mercian queen seated on the Shadow throne. That hadn’t been a dream, just as seeing her going to Aleon hadn’t been a dream. He was sure of it now.

But how could she take the Shadow throne if she was now the Shadow King’s captive?

Had he seen the vision? Did the Shadow King have a seer of his own, and had they seen the vision too? Maybe that was the point of the attack, of taking her.

That would mean the Shadow King was trying to change his fate. Which wasn’t possible.

Was it?

“ Are you still there? ” Kieve asked.

“ Yes, I just… that doesn’t make sense. She takes the Shadow King’s throne from him—I saw it. ”

“ Well apparently not before she’s captured by him. ”

Maybe she’d find a way to escape, join with Aleon, then overthrow him. Or maybe she’d find a way to kill him while in his hold. Cyrus was envious of the opportunity.

“ Also, I don’t think the Shadow King has your brother, ” Kieve said. “I haven’t seen him. But, Cyrus, the queen wasn’t the only one taken. ”

Who else would the king have bothered with? He wasn’t aware—

“ I’m caught, Cyrus. ”

Cyrus’s blood ran cold. What? Kieve was caught?

“ We came back to where the portal was, and we were waiting to see if it opened again. The Shadows came upon us in the night. ”

“ How? Where are you now? ”

Kieve gave a sad chuckle. “ You can’t help me now. ”

“ Tell me where you are. ”

“ No. You can’t confront the Shadow King. He has a whole army with him. Thousands, Cyrus. Tens of thousands. There’s nothing you can do. And you already had a failed mission—a mission not supported by your council, I’ll remind you. ”

The Shadow King had Kieve. Cyrus’s breath shook with fury. But Kieve was right—what could he do? He didn’t have a way to get to him. He didn’t have a proper army. Rael was a wreck; the dust hadn’t even settled after reclaiming it—Cyrus hadn’t even told him about the nobles’ attack yet.

But none of that mattered. “ Where are you? ” he demanded again.

“ I couldn’t even tell you. ”

Cyrus pushed against Kieve’s mind, trying to see through his eyes.

“ No, Cyrus. ”

How was he pushing him out? “ Let me in, let me see. ”

“ No. ”

Cyrus had thought Kieve the weakest among them, especially over the past few weeks, but somehow, he was summoning the strength to push back against him. “ Kieve, I’ll come for you. I’ll bring you back. ”

“ I don’t want to come back. ”

Cyrus stilled, and his chest tightened. “ What? ”

“ I’m tired of this world. ”

A sinking feeling hit his stomach. “Kieve, ” he whispered.

“ Bravat has most of the men—they split off yesterday after he heard there was a second temple nearby. He’ll probably call through the blood bond tomorrow; you’ll have to tell him what happened. ”

“ I will, ” he promised. “And then I’ll send him back for you. ”

“ We won’t be here. ”

What did that mean? Cyrus’s heart thrummed heavier.

“ Only a few men are with me, ” said Kieve. “We’ve all agreed. ”

The weight of Kieve’s words threatened to crush him. “Whatever you’re thinking— ”

“ The Shadow King doesn’t know who we are. And he won’t. ”

“ Kieve, what are you going to do? ”

“ I don’t have much time. Listen to me. I know you gave me everything you could in this life. None of this was your fault. I know you’ll blame yourself, but I’m glad I came. I’m ready. ”

“ Wait—wait! ” Cyrus begged. “ I’m coming for you. ”

“ You can’t. ”

“ Tell me where you are. ”

“ I’m blessed to have known you.” Even in his mind, Kieve’s voice cracked. “You were a good brother, and a good friend. The best. ”

“ Kieve—wait! ”

“ Goodbye, Cyrus. ”

“ Kieve— ”

Everything went silent.

“ Kieve? ” But he wasn’t in Kieve’s mind anymore.

Cyrus stood with his eyes tightly closed. He refused to open them, desperately trying to recover the bond.

“ Kieve! ”

But the pull was gone. He was back in his own mind now. A cry ripped from his lips. “Kieve!”