Page 9 of The Bone King and the Starling

THE RUNAWAY

“ T here you fucking are,” I grumble unhappily as I finish lacing my boots.

“You did not have such a good night then, my lord?” Puhyo’s dry tone does nothing for my sour mood.

He leans against the post in the center of the entryway, looking in on me seated at the edge of this pathetic scrap of a bed. I glare at my second in command and debate his worth relative to my desire to bleed him dry in this moment. His worth wins out. Barely.

“That is not what I heard,” he continues when I merely grunt, stand and lace up my trousers. “I heard that our king has earned himself a new title. The king of lambs. At least, that was last night. Did something happen this morning?”

“She left.” I snatch the nearest fur off of the mattress and toss it against her pillow angrily — a pillow that was cold this morning when I woke needy and desperate to sink into the softness of my wife once more in the daylight.

Only to find her absence.

“Ah.”

I latch my weapons belt around my waist and affix my axe to the holster around my shoulders. It is the first day of the games and, though I do not intervene or participate in any way, it is important for the men that I look prepared for war. I am the bone king. What incentive would it be for them if their king arrived carrying flowers while asking for bloodshed? And I will ask for bloodshed. Many times over.

“The men did say there may have been a…lack of communication between yourself and my future queen.” His irreverent tone is undercut only by the words that he calls her.

My hands fumble the next buckle that affixes my furs to my chest. My chest swells on my next inhale and holds.

“The fact that she has no idea she is to be made queen does explain why I saw her out in the village before dawn laboring to carry water to the kitchens.”

“You saw her this morning and did not think to wake me?” I rattle out my next exhale, fury coating my limbs as I finish tying my furs to my body.

“Yes. I had no idea what had passed between you.”

I snarl and start towards him, “Where was she?”

“I saw her only once, briefly and from afar when I went out to take a piss. I take it by your…general aura that you did decide then?”

“There was no question, Puhyo. I will cut out your tongue, no matter how much I otherwise enjoy hearing your jokes, if you speak ill of my wife again.”

“I do not speak ill of your wife, my king. I speak ill of you.” He beams, his skin a darker shade than mine, his hair black. “She’ll make a fine queen.”

“It does not matter if she makes for the worst queen in Wrath’s history, she is mine and you’ll deal with her just as you put up with me.”

He laughs, his head cocked back. “No easy task. Though if she has you making jokes and getting out of bed this early in the morning, I imagine her shortcomings will be easy to forgive.”

I exhale, my shoulders rolling back. “Yes. She is so soft, Raya would be jealous.” I want that softness here. I want to take her again. Ravage her all day. Forget about the games. Demand her acceptance of what I want from her. Be sure she knows her place is at my side and always will be.

Puhyo whistles between the gap in his front teeth. “I am happy for you, my friend.” As I move to pass by him, he claps me on the back. I meet his gaze. His dark eyes are shining with laughter. It eases me, though I’m not certain why. “The bone king deserves his softness.”

“I want her at my side, never to be parted from her again.” I want to touch her, hold her, squeeze her, speak to her…do what it takes to have her look up at me through those thick, curly black eyelashes with nothing but trust and affection.

“Do not worry, my king. She will need to come back if she intends to receive the reward you promised her.” He sneers the word.

Puhyo had counseled me to wed the female the moment I saw her in the village yesterday morning. It had been to him I’d confided after I saw her the first time, that fated night. He had counseled me away from announcing that I wanted a bed whore for the night in exchange for riches. I had thought otherwise. It seems he’d been right.

“That was a foolish ruse, my king.”

I laugh through my nose and rise to my full height. “I did not want to announce my plans to the room.”

“You insinuated a willing female would receive gold, when the true prize was a kingdom.”

“You have seen these people,” I tell him as we step out into the Winterbren hall. I gesture around the space. Dilapidated and in disrepair, despite the emeralds that sit fat on Lady Rosalind’s neck. “I will marry once, and I do not take mistresses or bed whores. The chief and his wife need disrupt the sanctity of my bond with her, nor the other villagers. That is between us and the gods.”

“Yes, I know. And Ghabari shines down on you with affection.” I can hear him rolling his eyes in his tone.

A more devout believer in the gods than he, I know better than to cross Ghabari, the god of matrimony and sacrifice. He is Raya’s cruel but loyal lover, just as I intend to be to my queen.

“I’m only saying that no matter how brightly Ghabari may shine on you, his smile still did not stop you from rutting the poor sapling before you wed her properly. Ghabari would not be pleased in this.”

“Ghabari knows what will come.” I stand in obstinance, knowing that Puhyo speaks the truth. “A ceremony is only a formality. She is mine in all ways that count.”

“Would that she knew that, too. You need to be clear with the girl.”

I shove Puhyo out ahead of me as I approach the high table and take a seat. A thrall immediately runs to attend to me. “I did not ask for your counsel. Now find her before your king of lambs becomes your king of pain.”

Puhyo smiles at me, looking every bit the mischievous boy I knew once, and I can see on his face that he is pleased, despite my threats. He gives me a subtle nod. “My lord.”