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S o, his little fairy was flustered by even the mildest flirting? Theron smiled as he tucked her in and wished her sweet dreams. He sat by the terrace, intending to enjoy the view of the gardens, but found his gaze drawn to her again and again. She had so many weaknesses, he had a veritable buffet to choose from to wrap her around his finger. Her heart was an open book.

Provided, of course, she was not the most talented spy in Viridis. In that case, he’d kept everything important from her, showing her scenic glimpses instead of areas of vital importance. But what kind of spy asked to hear epic stories of times long gone instead of stories that might give her actionable intelligence?

It wasn’t impossible, but it was beginning to look less and less likely that she was anyone’s spy. Unless she was being threatened. The spirit had taken on the form of the one she desired most to see, a small woman with pointed ears and red hair, another fairy. But the words Aurora had sobbed as it had lured her into its embrace had been genuine. The woman she most wished to see had died in Aurora’s place. Her guilt and longing had prevented her from seeing the truth, even as the spirit had tried to end her life.

Yes, his little fairy was so full of openings she would be easy to control. She was vulnerable, physically and emotionally. She was lonely, easily seduced, far too trusting, and not at all accustomed to participating in intrigues. Her honesty alone would have seen her eaten alive at even the most backwater of courts. Openly asking for an alliance, his military aid, and admitting the need to find someone? She might as well have rolled over and showed him her belly.

While Aurora had been able to hold onto some of her secrets, with the right pressure, she would crack and satisfy his curiosity. If her knowledge could free him from Viridis before that, all the better. It might not be honourable as a man to use her thus, but as a king, his honour was bound up with the fate of his kingdom. Anything and everything was acceptable for the sake of Aureum.

Yet it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Theron hated this feeling. It was a weight around his legs, sure to drag him to his death. He could admit he felt a certain spark with her—to deny it would be foolish. Her unexpected fits of boldness and familiarity held a certain charm. But to allow lust to cloud his judgement and wriggle its way past his defences was intolerable. The sooner he bedded her, the sooner he could rid himself of its hold on him. And the sooner he could control her.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

Goddess, he hated that this place had reduced him to answering his own chamber door. He supposed he should be grateful that at least they hadn’t taken to barging in unannounced.

He opened it to find a new guard, this one wearing finer armour, Viridian green and a small red earring.

“Yes?”

“You’re to be presented to Queen Flora.”

“When?”

“Now.”

Theron sighed. He was wearing clothes better suited to a merchant of modest means. Not even linen, his garments were made of plain, undyed wool without a single decorative stitch in sight. No doubt she meant to humiliate him in these rags.

“And there have been…developments.”

“Come in then, but keep your voice down.”

As Theron rummaged hopelessly in the wardrobe for something of finer quality, the spy gave his report.

“Bandits attacked the grain shipment. Most of it was recovered, but the nobles are using it to suggest it was the Viridians’ doing.”

Of course, the ones slavering for war would take anything as a provocation. They had sons and daughters hungry for the kind of honour only a battlefield could bequeath, and mines rich in the metals needed for weapons. War could be profitable for the nobles whose lands were furthest from the Viridian borders.

“Was it?” he asked, giving up on his fruitless search for better garments. At least his hair was no longer a mess, courtesy of his sleeping fairy.

“There is some evidence of it.”

“Definitive?”

“No.”

Thrice-damned fools. Couldn’t they see what they would risk with war? Did they think nothing of the people and livelihoods that would be erased by open conflict? One where they didn’t have the moral high ground? Who would come to their aid if they didn’t have a good enough reason for their attack? Not Niveum or Gilvus. And who would be able to spare the soldiers or supplies? Their losses would only be compounded during a cycle of chaos. Every kingdom that had risked war during a cycle of chaos had been reduced to ashes and dust. Much as he loved Aureum, Theron was not fool enough to think it would be different for his realm.

“Is there anything else?”

“Dualists tried to breach the palace. Batea’s beasts devoured them.”

And a good thing too. The cultists believed the monarchs were heavily responsible for their plight. They were as fanatical as they were organised. But the attack would only give Orithyia more reason to encroach on his territory.

“Let’s get this charade over with.”

“I apologise, but you’re required to wear these.”

The spy produced a pair of gold handcuffs.

Theron barely repressed a snarl. Maybe war wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He held out his wrists and allowed himself to be bound. As he was led from the guest palace to the main palace, it became clear that today was meant to be a public humiliation. Even the servants of the main palace were dressed better than he in dyed and patterned linen garb.

No doubt Queen Flora meant to have him reenact her own humiliation before Aureum’s court when she was but a young, hotheaded princess who thought she could claim the Colonnades for Viridis. His parents had let her off lightly, forcing a public apology and for her to pay the lifetime wages of all the Aurean soldiers she’d killed to the bereaved families her attack had created. Flora had been obsessed with retaliating to sate her damaged pride ever since.

She’d envisioned herself as a conquering hero, trying to recapture territory her great-grandmother had lost long ago. The moment she’d been crowned queen, Flora had been a thorn in his side, along with her high priestess.

His parents could have declared war all those years ago.

They should have beheaded her as their price for peace.

But they’d had no appetite to fight Viridis then. And only a few years later, they’d been carried off by disease, leaving Theron to shoulder Aureum himself. It had taken a decade to whip the unruly, ambitious nobles of Aureum into line. Had they fallen in line more quickly, he might have defeated her all those years ago. More's the pity.

Theron stepped into the royal receiving hall, a nightmare in vivid green, as if the whole palace had suddenly been swallowed by a carnivorous plant. A nightmare made all the more grotesque as the sky outside darkened, thunder rolling ominously in the distance. The sneering crowds he might have expected under normal circumstances were absent. Theron smirked. With a plague, they’d likely fled the city to hide out in their rural mansions. Only the most sycophantic loyalists remained to pad out the queen’s meagre retinue. Not even Orithyia was present.

Flora sat on her emerald throne wearing a jewel-encrusted gown of the same, a triumphant sneer twisting her tanned features, now showing her advancing age. Grey threaded through the deep brown of her elaborately coiffed and bejewelled hair, her crown like a spray of green and silver snakes on her head. Her dark eyes sparkled as her gaze lingered on the handcuffs.

“On your knees, Theron. This is Viridis.”

As a guard approached him to shove him to his knees, Theron glared the man into submission.

“A pair of gaudy handcuffs won’t stop me from rebreaking every bone in your body.”

The guard was frozen, caught between his queen’s implicit order and Theron’s explicit threat. Theron turned his glare on Flora. He should keep his head, truly, but she was just so fucking prideful. So much so, he knew exactly how he wanted to humiliate her in turn. She expected him to be beaten and disgraced, to be fighting in vain to preserve his honour. There was only one remedy—shamelessness.

“I seem to remember that when last you visited Aureum, you were treated with the respect due to your station. Has Viridis fallen into barbarism since, or has it always been thus?”

That wiped the sneer from her face.

“It was not I who slaughtered Viridian soldiers on Viridian soil!”

“No, you simply tried to start a war on Aurean soil…and failed miserably.”

Heat crept up her neck as her knuckles whitened on the arms of her throne. It was a beautiful sight.

“And yet, only one of us has the ignominious reputation as a blasphemer. I may have warred against Aurean soldiers, but you attacked an avatar.”

Theron stood straighter.

“The avatar has forgiven me my transgression, and the goddess has punished me. Interesting though, that the horrible fate the goddess bestowed on me was to send me to Viridis. To Boreas.”

A few of the courtiers blanched. He smiled. If being sent to Viridis was divine punishment meant for him, then it tarnished both him and Viridis.

“Is it not obvious that Justice is favouring me? Placing my enemy in the palm of my hand seems like a fitting reward.”

“I wasn’t aware we were enemies, Flora,” he said, examining his nails.

Rage had her flushing anew. Yes, that’s it. Let her lose her head. Let her come out from this insulting audience the loser. Let her know she wasn’t even worth the title of enemy.

“One cannot expect all kings to know basic history, it seems. But the fertile valley belonged to Viridis. Aureum transgressed first.”

The fertile valley, known as the Dragon’s Flank, had been contested between Viridis and Aureum back as far as the times of myth and legend. But Aureum had ruled it for generations now. No one still living remembered a time of Viridian rule.

“Perhaps the Viridian royal tutors forgot to teach you the last two hundred years of history where the Dragon’s Flank is concerned, but I must inform you that it has been Aurean for some time now.”

“Then that changes today.”

She snapped her fingers, and a servant bearing a tray with a document in parchment approached her.

“Read it,” she commanded.

One of her toadies dutifully picked the document up and read it aloud.

“For the undisputed crime of murdering fifty Viridian soldiers on Viridian soil, the blasphemer King Theron of Aureum will cede the entirety of the Dragon’s Flank from The Colonnades of The Colossus to Dragon’s Talon port to Viridis as compensation. By signing this document, both Queen Flora and King Theron agree to these facts as true and these terms as just and fair.”

His magic rose like a tempest inside him. That filthy, godless whore. The entirety of the Dragon’s Flank?! Did she actually believe he would let her have it? Lightning flashed in the distance, thunder echoing in the humid hall. No. Calm. If she wanted him to sign it, that meant she hadn’t used his stolen seal ring to falsify his agreement. More fool her. She really was useless without Orithyia.

“I will never sign that,” Theron said.

“You will if you ever want to leave the guest palace.”

“I’m not one of your helpless prisoners, Flora. I remain in your guest palace as a courtesy, not out of necessity.”

“If you’re so powerful, where are your servants? Why is it you wear the clothes of a commoner, without even a single ring on your finger? At least accept your loss with a shred of dignity.”

“As you did, all those years ago? Teach me your ways, Queen Flora.”

“You will learn respect, or you will never wear a crown again.”

“My respect is reserved for those who earn it, and my crown was bestowed by the ancient magics at the heart of Aureum. It cannot be taken by the grasping hands of a mortal queen.”

“Your dominion ended the moment you stepped into Viridis. I could have your head for your atrocities.”

“You could,” he conceded. “But then Aureum will be ruled by Batea, and you’ll face both a cycle of chaos and possible war. Do you think you alone, contrary to every other overly ambitious monarch throughout history, will survive both?”

“Is that a threat?”

“Merely some well-meaning advice.”

“Given your current state, perhaps you shouldn’t be so quick to give advice. Perhaps you should be open to receiving some instead. Sign the declaration, or I’ll ensure Orithyia remains too busy to purify your blasphemer’s mark. Without that, you’ll never wear the crown again.”

If that were to happen, it would be because Orithyia had already planned it as such. It was true that no one would accept a man tainted by a goddess’ wrath on a throne, not unless he’d been purified by a high priestess. The threat was all too real, and yet, she’d just left herself vulnerable.

“You would dare interfere with the duties of a high priestess? How would you propose to stop her? Or does Orithyia do your bidding?”

That stopped Flora. If she could command Orithyia so easily, then was it Flora who had ordered a tower built in his lands, interfering with his guardianship of Aureum? That was as good as a declaration of war. Anyone with sense knew that without the proper rituals, building in such a location would anger the mountain spirits. Rituals that had most definitely not been conducted, seeing as those were the purview of monarchs and nobility.

“Orithyia is like a mother to Viridis, and every mother worth her salt can identify a threat to her child when she sees it.” Flora glared at him.

“Regardless, I will have to decline your offer of advice. I’ll never sign that document. First and foremost, it’s full of lies.”

“The only liar here stands before me in commoner’s rags.”

“I murdered, at most, ten soldiers. The rest fell to the monstrosities. A mere fraction of the soldiers you killed during your failed conquest, for which your punishment was an apology and monetary compensations to the victims of your unprovoked hostilities,” Theron continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“And as to these commoner’s rags, as you so eloquently put it, am I to believe that the queendom of Viridis is so impoverished that even the royal palace cannot provide suitable garments for a king? A pity indeed, if so. For I recall that you were given everything befitting a princess when you stayed in Aureum.” When she tried to speak, he held up his hand.

“As for my lack of any adornment, when I crossed into Viridis, I wore only my armour and my seal ring, which was stolen by none other than your General Stentor. I would appreciate its return, lest it fall into the hands of someone who might consider using it to sign that spurious document without my consent. I hope you will see fit to have it returned to me. Lastly, I would rather give up my crown than cede the Dragon’s Flank to Viridis. It’s worth far more than the lives of ten Viridian soldiers, and pretending otherwise is an insult to the intelligence of everyone gathered here. I will pay reasonable monetary compensation for my transgressions, but you will not have my kingdom.”

Flora pointed at him, her ire flashing in her eyes.

“You dare to stand there, a blasphemer and a murderer, and dictate terms in my court? You falsely accuse an honourable man of theft, and a queen of valuing the lives of her soldiers too highly? Your shamelessness knows no bounds, Theron!”

“The only shameless thing in this room is that document. I have told no lies, nor made false accusations. As for your soldiers, what is the price a Viridian noble pays to the crown if he kills a soldier? According to your own law codes, he pays the man’s weight in coppers. Silvers if he is of a middling rank. Am I mistaken?”

“Those laws apply to the citizens of Viridis. Not to foreigners.”

He had her on the retreat now.