Page 46 of The Nightmare Queen

“Why is it on our table?” One of my captains squeaks out, his look of disgust similar to Will's.

She gives me a desperate look. “Ugh, it’s like explaining something to children isn't it? That is General Thornbirk." She says it as if that should answer the question as to why he now rests on our table and why shekilled him. "Look, the fastest way of getting into that camp was to make it look like I needed asylum from Vellar."

"So the cuts and the torn clothes…" Bennett supplies.

She nods her chin. "I took a gamble on the small chance they wouldn’t refuse a beaten woman. They took me into their camp under the impression that I was kidnapped and whored out by your men.”Lovely.I grimace.She gestures again to the general's head. "They took me to Thornbirk and we had a conversation. When he caught on too quickly to my ruse, I took care of him. So,” her thumb drags across her throat and she sticks her tongue out in a dramatic display, “no more General. We’ll need to act quickly, tonight even. Your prince and I have already endured part of what they have to offer and that was only minutes after I retracted my magic. I don't doubt with hours to recuperate we'll have a fight on our hands.” A mixture of awestruck and dumbfounded looks are plastered on each of my men’s faces in the room.It’s taken us years to chip away at those soldiers, and she does all of that in a matter of an hour give or take?I don’t know whether I should feel pride in myself for making the right call with her or if I should feel jealous that I didn’t get to that point without her help.

Bennett steps up to the table avoiding the soulless eyes of both Thornbirk and Eveera. “Okay, I'm sorry but just to recap here. You cut yourself and tore your clothes on the hope that they would let you into their camp feigning being a damsel in distress? It worked for awhile until it didn't and then you decapitated their general? All while assaulting everyone else in range with your magic?”

She nods, “that is what I said.”

“And you still want us to act now? We can’t have a few days of planning at least?” He asks carefully.

Eveera sets her hands on the table contemplating his request. “You can have a few days." She says and sighs of relief echo all around the room. All the way up until she opens her mouth to finish what she was saying, "if you want to be dead." Their mouths hang open one by one. "I just committed ahugeoffense by killing off this Thornbirk guy. They’re going to retaliate.” She looks up at me with an incredulous expression. “Honestly, these…these are what I am working with? I’ll be out there whenever you decide that living is better than dying.”

The moment she exits the tent with Ezra trailing dutifully behind her, arguments begin to break out. I can't be bothered to participate as I watch the two of them, and an ugly feeling coils in my stomach when his hand curls around her bicep to pull her off somewhere he feels is private.

This is a war camp, nothing is private.My conscience reminds me.I can see their shadows wind around the tent and when they stop I lean against the canvas, straining to hear them.

“You risked yourself." Ezra starts. "You risked yourself, Evie, and for what? For them…these…people? You can’t be reckless here! We could have lost you…I could have lost you, E.” The last part comes out desperate even for him. Of course, I’m speculating. I only met him a little over a week ago. But I assume that whining to get her to comply is substandard for him.

Her shadow’s body language gives away her feelings and her lack of interest in his complaint. “You’d do best to mind your place, Commander. I gave you your options the other day. If you are so distraught by my moves to fulfill my end of this deal then you can take your leave. No grudges held.” Her tone is clipped, bringing a smile to my lips until the voice of our newest captain pulls my attention away from the discussion outside the tent.

“So um, not to point out the head in the room or anything. But what do we do with it?” He asks.

My lip curls up at the severed head. “Burn it.”

The moment I stepped back into my apartment my bottle of bourbon was practically singing for me from within the office. I planned to spend the rest of my night holed up with paperwork while trying to come up with some sort of plan. If we’re supposed to retaliate by tonight, we’re going to need something more powerful than their bloody weapons.

The burn of the alcohol slides down my throat. There are mountains of missives, complaints, requests, and directives. A headache forms at the sight of all the papers in front of me.

My father - when gifting me this oh so honorable title of General - neglected to inform me that the job comes with cities full of people ready to jump down your throat. Unfortunately most of their grievances I share, and can’t do a fucking thing about them. But as long as I am in any of my posts hosting our military effort I will do what I can to lighten their plight. Even if it seems futile.

Despite having Bennett take over while Will and I went out to retrieve more manpower, the simple truth is no one else can do the job of a royal. I recline back in my chair, picking up my glasses and the top parchment, while my drink sits precariously on the edge of the arm rest.

“You look like a tutor.” Her raspy voice startles me from my reading. Glancing up over the rim of my glasses I see her leaning against the door frame clad in a black nightdress. She’s twisting her still damp hair into one long braid that hangs off her shoulder. The dress, I notice, is the same one she wore on our first night in her court.

You shouldnotremember what clothing she had on.I reprimand myself.

My hand raises the cup to my lips, tipping the amber liquid back. Her nose scrunches up in disgust as she watches me take a drink, “your liquor tastes like shit.”

I smirk, swallowing the mouthful, and set the glass back down. “Maybe your palate just isn’t refined, Highness.”

Her face falls flat, unamused, while she extends her hand out for the bottle. Holding the bottle by the neck I wiggle it back and forth at her, letting her know if she wants it she has to walk over here and get it.

She broaches the short distance to my desk, letting both of her tan hands land with palms down on the edge of it. Her body leans over putting her directly into my personal space. Lithe fingers snap out and snatch the bottle from my grip. Those soft and stoic features of hers, contort in discomfort as she chokes down a swallow. “I don’t think my palate is the problem.Blech!How can you drink that?”

I shrug. “Guess it’s grown on me.” She moves around the desk, setting herself on top of it. The smooth bronzed skin of her legs is on full display and if I were a worse man, I’d be tempted to run my hands across them. Thankfully the alcohol hasn’t worked that quickly. "You could have gotten yourself killed today.” I say.

Her head bobs up and down as she grimaces down another drink. “Scared you’ll lose your little investment? Wouldn’t want to disappoint daddy any more than we already have, would you?”

I glower up at her, “no. I just would rather not deal with your blonde boyfriend trying to slit my throat because you died helping me.” Her eyes spark at the mention of Ezra.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” She snarls.

Defensive are we?I think to myself. “He certainly seems to think so.” I bite, the words coming out harsher than intended and she bristles at my tone.

“I don't care what he thinks.” Another drink, another grimace. She shoves it back into my hands and leans back onto hers, aimlessly flipping through the papers next to her thigh.

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