Page 87 of The Ever King

“Only the ones I kill right after I come.” I stepped from the alcove, fists clenched.

A unified sob broke from both servants. The women fell to their knees. The first whimpered, “Highness, we . . . we didn’t mean—”

“Get out of my sight.”

They didn’t question, didn’t pause, before scrambling to their feet and fleeing. I lifted my palms, studying the rough calluses, the scars along the meat of my thumbs, my wrists, and forearms.

Mangled.

I wouldn’t be foolish enough to think Livia would ever truly crave a touch from a man like me. There was a bond to consider. Any pull she felt toward me came from fate twisting our paths together beyond our control.

I glared at the door where the women had fled. I hated them, hated the way everyone here looked at me as though any moment in my presence would be their final breath.

It had been the same since I was a boy when Harald barked his cruelty and drunken tirades through the hallways after the death of his brother. Once an uncle who laughed and allowed Tait to befriend me, all at once transformed into the bastard intent on molding the fiercest, cruelest Ever King the seas had seen.

The men and women of this palace were witness to it all and did nothing.

Unfair of me, perhaps, to hold resentments against folk unable to step over the confines of their station. I did not pretend to be a fair man. Resentment festered, a gangrenous poison in my bones, until the sight of them brought nothing but disgust.

Another panel slid out of place on a far wall. Gavyn stepped through without a sound. Dressed in black, he tugged the scarf he used to hide his features in the royal city away from his mouth.

Brown skin, dark eyes, but hair with a touch of fire in the color, he always wore a grin like he knew every salacious secret in the kingdom.

In truth, he likely did.

Gavyn offered a lavish bow. “King Erik, you’ve been greatly missed. How we’ve bemoaned your absence and prayed to the gods, to the cruel creatures of the depths for your safe—”

“Sit down, you bastard.” I yanked a chair from the table.

“I hear you have quite a tale to tell.” Gavyn kicked out his legs, grinning. “What’s this about Chasms and claimed?”

“I should have known when I took on your damn family nothing would ever be private.”

Gavyn’s grin widened. “I assure you, My King, I’d find out all your scandalous secrets on my own.” He winked with the arrogance he’d had since we were children and folded his fingers over his stomach. “Tell me about the earth fae, and how we’re not heading straight into a war.”

“She bears the mark of the House of Kings.” Trust did not come simple in the Ever, but Gavyn was one of the few I nearly trusted implicitly.

“Aye, so I heard. Makes little sense to me. After you went through the Chasm, I studied deeper into the mantle given to Thorvald.” He paused, drumming his fingers over the table. “From what I’ve learned, Thorvald’s mantle was meant to be the full power of the Ever, but in truth, it never really took. More like it amplified his own command of the sea. Thoughts as to why?”

“No. You know better than anyone how little Thorvald spoke to me.”

Gavyn scratched the side of his face and sighed. “It’s led me to wonder if she’s truly using the power of the Ever against the darkening.”

“What else would it be?”

“Her own magic?”

“Possible, but why does she feel drawn to the Ever? Why does she say it feels different?”

“Therein lies the question, My King. A living talisman for the House of Kings has just . . . never been.”

“You think I don’t know? You think any of this makes sense? There is no other answer. I’ve felt the mark on her skin, I’ve witnessed the land heal beneath her touch.”

“You know it puts you both at risk.”

My fist curled over my knee. Across the kingdom were more Lucien Skurks. More cutthroats desperate for a bit of power.

“I plan to claim her at the feast.”