Page 28 of What Fury Brings (Wrath and Fury #1)

“Thank you,” he spat out instead.

It was unclear if he or Olerra were more surprised by the words.

She recovered first. “You’re welcome.”

Sanos tried to pretend Ydra wasn’t there. “Why did you do it? Why not let me die? And don’t tell me taking a new husband wouldn’t have been easier.”

“It would have been much easier,” Olerra said, and she stifled a groan as she moved in a way that must have hurt her injuries.

“Then…?”

Olerra looked him dead-on. “You are mine, and no one takes what’s mine . Especially my fucking cousin.”

Sanos accepted that answer.

Obviously it didn’t have anything to do with her feelings about him or her character. It came down to one simple thing: her hatred of Glenaerys.

He let himself out.

Olerra stared at his retreating back. That was twice that he’d thanked her. First, for sending the letter to his mother. Then again for saving his life.

The Brute didn’t want his mother to worry, and he was concerned for Olerra’s health.

It was hidden, but Olerra felt like she’d finally found that gentler side to Andrastus that the rumors had hinted at. He must have buried it to protect himself upon being stolen away to Amarra.

She liked seeing that gentleness.

Olerra was glad she’d allowed the audience. At first, she hadn’t wanted him to see her weak and beaten a second time. It was bad enough that the entire nobility had been present to witness Glen’s victory. She didn’t want the man who would be hers to ever have cause to think of her that way again.

“You lied to him,” Ydra said when it was just the two of them. “I know you saved him because you feel honor bound to do so.”

“He thinks me a villain. I gave him an answer he would believe.”

“He is such a bastard. He’s not good enough for you.”

Olerra smiled at her friend’s protectiveness. “You’re just upset because I took a beating.”

“A beating,” Ydra repeated. “No, ten lashes is a beating. What you took was just short of a death sentence.”

“It could be nothing less to save him.”

“Nobody would have blinked if you’d let him die. Now the whole of Amarra knows you hold him in higher regard than your cousin.”

Olerra agreed. “We will need to do something to fix this once I’m healed.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. You could challenge your cousin. Give her a taste of her own medicine.”

“She would refuse.” Olerra would relish the opportunity for a fair fight between the two of them, but there was no such thing.

Olerra was the more skilled fighter. She would always win.

“And then she would turn it around somehow to make it seem as though I were the bully and she the harmless victim.”

“She nearly killed you!”

“My aunt never would have allowed that.”

Ydra stepped forward until she could sit on the edge of the bed.

She took a deep breath to calm her anger.

“Perhaps we could start by strengthening what we already have. Glen has the nobles, but you have the army and the people. When you’re healed, you could take Andrastus on a ride through the city.

Show him off. Show your strength. Let the people cheer.

Later, you can bring him to meet the troops. ”

“That’s a great idea, but what of the nobles? They will not be so easily swayed after I risked myself for him.”

“ I’m angry that you risked yourself for him.”

“As if you wouldn’t for any one of your boys.”

“They’re innocents! That prince is anything but. He doesn’t deserve your kindness.”

Olerra adjusted the blankets around her. “You hate him for being born a Brute, but it is because of his noble blood that I need him.”

“You could have chosen literally any other kingdom.”

“I needed to send a message to Atalius.”

“He doesn’t even know you took his son!”

“But he will. And that will make it all worth it.”

Ydra took her hand. “You cannot afford to be gentle with him any longer. Not in public. You must show your dominance now more than ever. You must get him to submit. He feels indebted to you now. Use that to make him behave.”

“I will do what I can. He’s so unpredictable.”

“You could start beating him.”

Olerra laughed. “You don’t mean that. You must get over what happened.”

“Fine, but it will take time. Sister, I hated seeing you like that. I would have taken your place if I could.”

Olerra knew it. Once substitution had been granted, however, no one else could claim it.

“We will come back from this,” Olerra said.

“We will,” Ydra agreed. “We will get you that throne no matter what.”

It was another couple of weeks before Olerra felt fully healed. She took walks around Ydra’s manor and estate but never left the grounds. Glen’s spies and assassins could take any opportunity to try something. They were likely watching the manor.

She used the time to get her strength back. She ran and put herself through her exercises, slowly at first, until her body was well on its way back to full speed.

Only then did she allow herself to be alone with Andrastus.

“We have a lot of work ahead of us,” Olerra said to him on the ride back to the palace. “I cannot afford to seem weak after… what happened. The nobles must see me having a firmer hand with you. They must think me in love to have risked so much for you. We must sell it.”

“Well, which is it?” he asked with irritation. “Are you going to be more cruel to me or act in love with me?”

“Not cruel. Firmer. It means when you misstep, I will need a firmer hand in reprimanding you. If you help me sell the ruse, if you do not misstep, there will be no need for any of it. If we can sell a true romance, give the nobles something to root for, then neither of us should have to deal with any unpleasantness.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“To you. To an Amarran, it makes perfect sense. Can I count on you?”

He looked away from her. Something outside the window suddenly held his complete attention.

She continued with “Just remember, Prince, this arrangement can have an end date. I promise that if you cooperate, I will give you back your life when this is all said and done.”

He said nothing, and Olerra thought that would be the end of it. Then: “Do you swear it?”

He wouldn’t look at her, but the words felt vulnerable. As though he were used to people disappointing him every day.

“I swear it, Andrastus.”

“Swear on something that matters.”

It was a bit pushy, but when Olerra held most of the power, she could allow him this. She said, “I swear on the ashes of my mother. I will ensure your safe travel home as soon as I am declared crown princess.”

The tightness about his shoulders lessened. “I’m not saying that I won’t try to escape if the opportunity presents itself, but I will not make a mistake like the one I did with your cousin. I will not make you look bad again.”

Olerra believed him. Andrastus would give Glenaerys and her harem a wide berth after this.

And she would never expect him to stay if he thought he could get away.

They had an understanding, and that was enough for Olerra.

For now.

Olerra took Ydra’s advice.

The day after their arrival at the palace, Olerra ordered her carriage readied.

Unlike the practical one she’d taken to show Andrastus the Pleasure Market and the pit, this one was more elaborate.

This was to be their first official outing for the people, and Olerra wanted to do it in style. The people loved a good show.

The wide carriage was raised high off the ground on massive wheels and painted scarlet after the red obsidian the court was known for.

There was a canopied top to shade them, held up by four thick poles, one in each corner.

Instead of windows, the top half of the carriage was open to the outdoors.

Andrastus needed to be as visible as possible, and it allowed for a nice breeze.

Her prince was done up much as he’d been all those weeks ago.

Short skirt. Barefoot and bare-chested. Hands manacled behind his back.

Nipple clamps in place. His hair was styled to perfection.

At his temples were twin braids plaited against the scalp, keeping the hair away from his face.

The rest of his hair was slicked back with cream.

It shimmered golden in the sunlight. He was freshly shaven, and her onyx gleamed on his upper arm.

Gods, but he was a sight.

Andrastus was clearly displeased with his attire and the situation at large. He had to be prodded up the steps of the carriage. When he sat, he moved as far from her as possible.

She sighed but let him have his space.

A handful of soldiers rode on horseback, both in front of and behind the carriage. Olerra never experienced any trouble in the streets, but it was good to have more women she trusted on hand, just in case.

A herald rode at the head of the party, calling out every few blocks, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Olerra Corasene, and her intended, Prince Andrastus Ladicus of Brutus.”

People stopped in the streets. They waved, and Olerra tossed coins occasionally to the onlookers, who cheered and stooped to fill their pockets. Some women tossed flowers into the carriage. Others walked up to hand Olerra baked sweets and bread. She accepted the gifts with heartfelt thanks.

Meanwhile, Andrastus looked ill at ease.

“What’s the matter?” Olerra asked. “Is the heat getting to you?” His skin had healed from the initial burns of his arrival. He had a new dusting of freckles on his shoulders. They were adorable, not that she’d tell him.

“It’s not that,” he said irritably. “I don’t love having my hands tied behind my back.”

“Sorry, Prince, but I can’t risk you trying anything while we’re away from the security of the palace. Besides, it’s not like you’d rather be waving at them. Or accepting flowers and sweets. Doesn’t that go against some unspoken code of manliness for you Brutes?”

“There is no manliness code.”

“Isn’t there? No crying. No showing emotion. And any qualities that could be considered even slightly feminine ought to be stomped out.”

He looked away from her. Olerra sat back in her seat and sampled some freshly baked bread. “Would you like some?” she asked.

“I would prefer not to eat from your fingers in front of the masses.”

“Even if it would help my ruling?”

“You’re being needlessly annoying.”

Olerra unwrapped a bag of candied nuts, looked curiously at Andrastus, then tossed one high into the air in his direction.

On instinct, the prince opened his mouth and caught it on his tongue.

Olerra smiled, and the watching commoners clapped.

He glared at her. “I’m not a dog you can get to do tricks.”

“You said you wouldn’t eat from my fingers. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Stop trying to feed me.”

“Why? Food makes everything better.”

“Not everything,” he said pointedly before looking away.

“Everything,” she insisted. “Name one thing it doesn’t.”

He thought for a moment. “Bathing.”

“You’ve never had a slice of cake while taking a bath? Definitely better. What else?”

“How about a beating?”

“You don’t think chocolate makes injuries feel better? Next.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m not playing these absurd games with you.”

“Because you know I’m right.” She tossed another nut to him. He let this one hit the top of his head before it fell to the floor.

“Spoilsport,” she said.