Page 39 of Wild Flame (Wild Bond #2)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“ Y ou can’t be serious, Astrid. He’s a Zehvitian warrior. He’ll break your heart.”

I sat before my vanity the next morning, my mind still very much on the discussion between Malik and me the night before, when Hilde’s words registered.

She was speaking with the younger maid as the two of them fitted the bed with new sheets.

“But he—he said he cares for me,” Astrid defended.

“Of course he said that,” Hilde scoffed. “All men say that when they want something. Do you want to end up with a Zehvitian bastard in your belly? It’s bad enough that we have to stay here. But if that happens, you’d never be accepted back in Halmar. Your family is noble, low-ranking though they are. They would cast you out and never let you return. Then you would be stuck in this awful place for life.”

“Then go, Hilde,” I said.

Her eyes widened as they turned to me. “Go?”

I nodded. “Yes, go.” I hadn’t realized Astrid was seeing someone, and it was bad enough what Hilde was saying to the girl, but I had had enough of her disparaging Zehvi. I stood and faced her. “If you hate it here so much, go back to my mother. And when she leaves, you may return to Halmar with her.”

“I—but . . . I can’t—” For once, the older woman was clearly at a loss for words.

“You have made it abundantly clear that you hate everything about this country and its people, and you disdain its customs. No doubt you should like to return to Halmar. My entire life you have acted as if looking after me was a chore and did it with very little warmth or kindness. Even when I was young, and in desperate need of such. You have acted as my mother’s spy, reporting every little thing back to her and showing absolutely no care or loyalty to me. I’m surprised you would think I should want to keep you on. I have tolerated your behavior thus far only because I had no say in the matter. Now I do. I shall no longer require your services. Astrid will look after me from now on.”

“You mean to just throw me out onto the street?” she demanded. “After all these years? After all I have done for you?”

I clenched my jaw in annoyance. “As I just stated, you will not be out on the street. You will still be employed. Just not by me.”

Her eyes hardened, and her back straightened as she huffed, “Your mother will never allow this.”

“My mother no longer has any say in my decisions,” I countered bluntly. “I am Queen of Zehvi and no longer subject to her whims and dictates. I may employ or dismiss whom I will. Now, please leave.”

Astrid’s eyes were round as she watched Hilde toss down the sheet she had been holding and stomp to the door before sweeping from the room without a backward glance. Astrid quickly recovered herself as she strode over and picked up the abandoned sheet and draped it over her arm.

“I will leave you be now, my queen. Would you be requiring anything else before I go?” she asked. It wasn’t until then that I noticed her shock had given way to satisfaction, and perhaps pride, as she stared at me.

I gave her a brief smile back. “No, nothing, Astrid. Thank you.”

The following day, I had a meeting with the palace steward where we had discussed the quickly approaching wedding. The steward, a thin man with an unwavering professional air named Arjun, had been surprisingly attentive and accommodating as I explained the finer details of a Halmarish ceremony to him. He was fully committed to getting the details just right, and I had no doubt I had my new husband to thank for that. We had also discussed some of the new duties I would be taking on as queen. It had all been a bit overwhelming.

The meeting was held in my newly appointed offices in the palace where most of the affairs of state were conducted. After it was over, I strode down the side of the grand foyer with Selasi and Yesh a few paces behind me, as always. I nodded to a few people who paused to bow as I passed, when my eye caught on a pair of tall open doors to my left. I glimpsed the room beyond and came to a halt. I had never noticed the room before now.

“What’s in there?” I asked my guards, pointing to the room in question.

“The Gallery of Kings, my queen,” Yesh replied. When I still looked at him blankly, he continued. “A display of some of the royal family’s art collection.”

I stared at him. “Am I allowed to go inside?”

I could tell Yesh fought a grin, and Selasi cleared his throat as he replied, “You are the queen, Your Majesty.”

“Right,” I said a little sheepishly before walking over.

The two of them swept the gallery before I entered, and since there was only one entrance, they stayed by the open doors as I stepped inside.

The gallery was long and narrow, with a high vaulted ceiling, tall windows, and a golden swirling design inlaid in the white marble floor. My steps echoed as I entered the heavy quiet of the room. Portraits of past royalty lined the walls, as well as depictions of famous dragons and their riders, and even a few battle scenes. Other works of art filled the space, and my eyes were immediately drawn to a white stone sculpture of Queen Lethara riding her dragon Severion, into battle with her ancient sword clasped in her hand.

I took a few steps closer to inspect the masterpiece, just out of sight of the doors.

That was how my mother found me. One moment, I was enjoying the serenity and beauty before me, and the next, she was sweeping into the room, radiating her familiar icy fury.

“There you are.” She sounded irritated. Her guards chose to wait at the doors with my own, so we had relative privacy. “It’s bad enough that you ignore my summons, but now I have to resort to traipsing all over this palace like a common servant, just to speak to my own daughter.”

I sighed. Being a woman used to having her orders obeyed immediately, I could see how having to attend me rather than the other way around would be galling to her. Though she was right, after dinner that first night, I had been avoiding her. Not out of pettiness, but rather the fact that I had no desire to be around her. Malik hadn’t questioned me. He seemed content to let me handle my lovely mother as I saw fit. But alas, it seemed I could not avoid her any longer.

Girding myself, I turned to face her. Her hair, so like my own, was braided into a cornet around her head and would have been quite becoming were it not for the pinched scowl she wore.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, Mother. I have been rather busy. What did you need to speak to me about?”

“You dismissed Hilde?” she demanded without preamble.

I should have known that after months of not seeing or speaking to me, that in our first private moments, this is what she would wish to discuss. “Yes, I did,” I said in answer.

“Explain yourself,” she nearly spat.

I gave her a look. “Why? I have no doubt Hilde told you everything.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she neither confirmed nor denied my statement. “You will apologize to her and reinstate her at once,” she ordered. “She is skilled and has been your maid since you were a child—”

“No, Mother ,” I interrupted her and saw the fury in her eyes that I dared to do so, “I will do no such thing. She has been your servant, or rather, your spy, for years. She has been nothing but cold and domineering to me my entire life. She has been rude to myself and my other maid on numerous occasions, and criticizes my choices, and Zehvi and its customs at every opportunity.”

She scoffed. “And why shouldn’t she? In the three days I’ve been in this country, I have seen nothing to recommend it. Gaudy fashions, awful food, and a miserable climate. And this horrible palace is so outrageously opulent, it could double as a pleasure house.”

While I seriously doubted my mother had ever stepped foot inside a pleasure house, I decided not to point that out, given the other insults she had just spewed from her mouth. I shot a glance to where the guards still stood at the door and prayed they were out of earshot. I took a step closer to her and lowered my voice, trying to contain my rising anger.

“I would remind you that I am Queen of Zehvi now, Mother. This is my home. Just because their ways are different from yours does not make them wrong or invalid or worthy of ridicule. I will not have you insult them in my presence again. Is that understood?”

My heart was pounding as I spoke. It felt strange to contradict her in this way.

She glared at me. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner? As if I am a child to be reprimanded. And after I have come all this way to be here for your wedding, you ungrateful—”

“We both know you didn’t come here for me.” I shook my head. “You are here because it would reflect poorly on you and Father if you were not, and for no other reason.”

Again, she didn’t deny it. Instead, her critical gaze swept me up and down, and she changed tack. “Hilde wrote and told me of how you had let these people and their beliefs change you, but I never thought . . . Look at you.” She swung her hand out, gesturing to my wrist. “You let them mark your skin, and that dress ,” she said the word with so much scorn, I nearly flinched, “barely covers up your scars. And Hilde tells me you are already sharing the king’s chambers.”

“He is my husband, Mother,” I stated through gritted teeth. I tried not to let her words penetrate, even as each one felt like individual stones hitting their mark and bruising my skin. Taking a deep breath, I explained calmly, “The Zehvitian Marking Ceremony is binding.”

She raised a dismissive hand. “So they claim. But did this ceremony take place in one of our temples? Under the eyes of the Nine?” She did not wait for me to answer. “No, it did not. Therefore, you are still unwed. And no doubt you have been spreading your legs for him like some common whore for weeks now. Are you certain he will even still want to marry you now that he has had you?”

I was both simultaneously stunned, and sadly, not surprised at all, at the sheer vitriol that had just come from her mouth. My defenses were so battered by her words that I thought I would have to fight down the instinctual guilt and shame that usually tried to rise in me when she attacked me like this. But, to my surprise and relief, they didn’t come. I was not ashamed of what Malik and I had done. I looked down at the dragon on my inner wrist, my thoughts turning to the beautiful smile of triumph on Malik’s face the day he had seen his mark on me and mine on him.

Squaring my shoulders, I met my mother’s stare. “Malik cares for me, and we are married, whether you want to believe it or not. We are only having this wedding because Malik knew what it would mean to me, but it is not legally necessary.”

My mother snorted in disbelief as she leaned closer to me. “You’re not a dragon rider, Leida. And when you cannot provide him with dragon rider children, he will cast you aside.”

Her words struck to the heart of one of my greatest fears, but I ignored the pain of them in favor of retorting, “You’re not a dragon rider either, and you did just fine.”

I only had an instant to see fury darken my mother’s eyes before she backhanded me. My head whipped to the side and there was a sharp sting across my cheek. Shock rippled through me. My mother had been angry with me before, but she had never struck me. The shock was quickly followed by a creeping numbness as I slowly stared back at her.

“With no thanks to you,” she hissed coldly, straightening her skirts before a hand went to her flat stomach. “Because of you, I was only ever able to provide my husband with one useful child. I nearly died bringing you into this world, and you have been utterly useless since the day you were born. If I could claim you are no daughter of mine, I would.”

I stared at the woman before me, the woman who had birthed me, and suddenly wondered why I had ever sought her approval. I had begun to distance myself from her emotionally a long time ago, but all of a sudden, I felt that tie—as frazzled and frayed as it was—break completely.

I simply stared at her a moment longer, finding I had nothing left to say. I let the creeping numbness overtake my entire frame.

And I turned and left.

Selasi smiled at me as I approached, but when he saw my face, he stiffened. “My queen, what happened?” His gaze flicked behind me to where my mother still stood, and it darkened.

I pasted on a thin smile that would have been more convincing if my voice hadn’t wobbled as I said, “It’s nothing.”

“It is not nothing,” he argued. “You are bleeding, my queen.”

“Am I?” Lifting my hand to my cheek, I winced as I touched the tender spot. A few red drops of blood smeared on my fingers as I pulled them away. One of my mother’s rings must have cut me.

For some reason, seeing the blood broke through the numbness, and brought everything to the surface. My eyes stung with tears. I could not break down here in this very public part of the palace where anyone could see.

My chambers were too far away, on the other side of the palace, so I began walking back towards my office, giving my guards no choice but to follow. I took a deep breath and held the back of my hand to my mouth as I tried to get a handle on myself. I stared at the floor, nearly running in my haste, not wanting to see or talk to anyone as I went, so I almost ran into Malik when he suddenly appeared in front of me.

“In a hurry, siren?” he asked with a chuckle.

The smile quickly fell from his face when I glanced up at him, and then away.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“Nothing, I just—"

I halted when his hand touched my chin and gently turned my face so he could see the cut there. I didn’t have to be looking at his face to know that he was furious. I felt it in the way he stiffened and the air suddenly turned electric around us.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded in a lethal tone that made a shiver race down my back.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, swallowing hard. I couldn’t bring myself to admit what had happened. That it was my mother who had struck me. Somehow, having to admit that to him made it even worse. Shame and humiliation washed over me.

Malik looked at my guards.

“Who did this to her?” he repeated in that same deadly tone.

“It was her mother, my king,” came Selasi’s stiff voice. “They were speaking in the gallery. We were stationed at the door, so we did not see it happen.”

“Do not be angry with them, Malik,” I said in a small voice. “Who would think that she—that a mother—would . . .” I bit my lip as it trembled, hating myself for my loss of control, for giving that woman any more of my tears.

Without another word, Malik took my hand and led me away. Before I knew it, he had ushered me into his office. It looked the same as it had before, only now there was no one else in the room. Azrun must be outside the palace.

The guards stationed themselves outside the door, and before Malik closed it, he ordered, “Fetch Queen Petra and bring her here. Now. Do not take no for an answer.”

“My king,” was the murmured reply before Yesh bowed and left.

Malik found a cloth from somewhere and pressed it gently to my bleeding cheek. He said nothing as we waited, but there was a storm of emotion in his eyes.

We didn’t have to wait long before there was a knock. The door opened again, and my mother stepped through.

She looked cool and collected as she entered and gave nothing away as she took in Malik’s murderous expression and saw me standing a few feet behind him.

The door had scarcely closed behind her before my mother began, “Your Majesty, I—"

“How dare you lay a hand on my wife!” Malik thundered, and my mother froze. “How dare you lay a hand on the Queen of Zehvi!” His voice was like ice, and angrier than I had ever heard it as he glared daggers at her.

My mother’s face was as cold as usual, but I saw her spine stiffen. “She is my daughter. I will treat her as I see fit.”

“Raising a hand to your child in anger is never acceptable, no matter their age. And Leida may be related to you by blood, but it is my understanding that you have never treated her as a mother should, and therefore have not earned the right to call her your daughter.”

Her eyes flared. “Earned the right?"

Malik’s voice was more level now, full of quiet fury. “If you were not Leida’s mother, and a queen yourself, I would even now be watching as my dragon sliced your body to ribbons and burned your remains until they were nothing more than a black mark on the stone.”

“Is that a threat?” she demanded. She truly appeared stunned by his words.

Malik continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “But you are a queen, Petra, and therefore you should have considered that, if I so choose, what you have done today could be considered grounds for war between our two kingdoms.”

I stifled a gasp and saw a flicker of fear pass over my mother’s usually stony expression as what she had done slowly began to sink in.

“I . . . well,” she sputtered, “surely you wouldn’t . . . She is my daughter.”

“No,” Malik retorted, “she is my queen. And she is a fierce and beautiful woman who has never once deserved your hateful treatment of her. She could have been a caring daughter to you and an asset to your kingdom, but instead, you chose to belittle and neglect her.” He glanced at me, then back to my mother. “It is your loss.”

For once in her life, my mother appeared speechless.

Malik continued to glare at her. “For Leida’s sake, I will not pay back the grave insult you have shown her, and by extension me, by retaliating against your kingdom. But I will forbid you from approaching her or contacting her in any way from this day forward, unless she herself seeks you out. Am I understood?”

My mother swallowed hard. “But the wedding—"

“Whether you attend the wedding any longer is up to Leida. Am I understood?”

She didn’t spare me a glance as she straightened her spine and murmured, “Yes.”

“Good,” Malik replied. “Now get out.”

Back in our chambers, Malik insisted on a healer seeing to the cut, even though it was little more than a scratch. When he finally left after applying a healing salve, Malik stood before me with his arms crossed. I knew he wasn’t angry with me, but I could tell he was still furious about what had happened.

Those knowing amber eyes regarded me. “What did she say to you?”

“She was angry that I dismissed Hilde, and that I had been avoiding her since she arrived.”

“And this made her strike you?” He raised a dark brow. He knew there was more.

I didn’t want to tell him. Not out of a misguided sense of wanting to protect my mother, but because I felt ashamed, and I knew it would only upset him.

I looked away, my eyes catching on the sunny courtyard beyond the open window. “She was angry at me for sharing your room and your bed.”

“Is it not the custom in Halmar for a husband and wife to share a bed?”

I winced. “She doesn’t see our marriage as valid.” I hurried on, since I could feel the rage drifting from him in tangible waves. “Then she went on about how I’m not a dragon rider, so I’m not worth anything. That was nothing new,” I admitted. “It was just that this time I had the gall to remind her she wasn’t one, either.”

“I should have sent that viper back to Halmar,” Malik bit out. “And why should it matter if you’re not a dragon rider?” he demanded, brow furrowed.

“Why should it matter?” I repeated, stunned. “You are a king. Your heirs must be dragon riders.” My voice softened. “And I might not be able to give you that.”

Malik stepped before me and took my face in his hands. If I had to put a name to the look on his face, I would say it was something akin to affectionate exasperation.

“Listen to me, siren,” he commanded firmly. “When we have children, of which I hope there are many,” he smiled, “I will not care one wit if they become riders or not. They will not be of value to me because they are my heirs, or because they are bonded to a dragon. I will love them because they are our children.”

I stared at him and the sincerity in his eyes shattered any lingering doubt or disbelief in my heart about whether he meant what he was saying as he continued.

“We will teach them that their value lies in their strength of character and the choices they make, not in what they can or cannot do for our kingdom. They will know their worth and that they are loved by their mother and cherished by their father. I will teach them to govern and to ride. We can both teach them to fight, and you will sing them to sleep every night. We can work together and strive to be the parents we should have had.”

Unbidden, tears began streaming down my face.

He didn’t bother to brush them away as he kissed me. When he pulled back, he touched his forehead to mine. “You might not be a rider, isholet , but you are one of the most resilient, stubborn, passionate, and loyal people I know.” He leaned back. “I love you.”

I ran my hands over his face, his mouth, his bearded cheeks. “I love you, too,” I whispered.

That devilish grin I loved so much made an appearance. “I know,” he said. Then he lifted me into his arms and my lips found his.