Page 26 of Fearless

“Iris”—Edric smooths a hand across the fabric draping her rounded belly—“you know they are needed for your safety. This baby is coming any day now, and for your protection…”

The king stops talking then, because he recognizes the look on her face. Iris is gentle, in soul and body. But her expressions are less so.

“What?” Edric insists at the narrowing of those brilliant, blue eyes.

She takes a breath, the type that sounds like loving someone despite their flaws. “All you do is protect me. And, of course, I am grateful for that, but…” Iris raises a hand, somehow encapsulating the entire kingdom with a single gesture. “But it has been years since the people have heard about me. Seen me. For all they know, I died shortly after giving birth to Kitt.”

“And I would rather them think that,” the king utters slowly, “than use you against me. I won’t risk an enraged Ordinary putting you in danger to hurt me.”

Iris pads slowly atop the carpet, her loose nightgown dragging green fabric behind her feet. “The Purging was over a decade ago. Your paranoia cannot keep me trapped here forever.” She grasps his face, cupping him in the warmth of her presence. “In our five years of marriage, I have done little more than hide away.”

Edric rubs a hand behind his neck, a habit his father plagued him with. It’s as though every prickle of agitation builds beneath the skin there and chips away at his sanity.

Ordinaries remain in his kingdom out of spite, hiding until their swelling anger has them committing some final act of violence. They all die in the end, as the weak always do. But it is the defiance of it, the constant worry that his queen may get caught in the cross fire.

“Soon,” the king sighs. He pulls Iris’s soft hands into his own. “I will free you of these walls shortly. Once I’ve disposed of these lingering Ordinaries, you will be safe. They are a mistake I am remedying. And the Elites are just as eager to be rid of them.”

The gentle queen ponders this for a long moment. “Good. Because I would like very much to show our child to the kingdom.” She guides her husband’s hand along the swollen curve of her belly. “The castle may be good at keeping secrets, but I am—”

“Not,” Edric finishes for her, knowing his wife more than he has ever wanted to know anyone. “I know, Ri.”

“But despite it all, I love you.” She draws a circle above the king’s thumping heart as she says it, just as she has so many times before.

“Thank the Plague for that,” Edric responds earnestly.

Iris’s soft laugh morphs into a hiss when she clutches her belly. The king shudders at the sight of his wife in pain, shifting suddenly from stoic royal to concerned spouse. Threading an arm around her waist, he guides his groaning queen onto her bed. It is only after adjusting her legs and propping a pillow behind Iris’s back that Edric allows himself a long breath.

“Are you all right?” The question is laced with his own terror for her.

“Yes, I will be fine.” Sweat glistens on her brow. “Just labor pains, dear.”

The king nods in an attempt to expel that lingering fear within him. His father always hated when he showed any sign of weakness—and Iris is exactly that. Clearing his throat and smoothing the worry between his brows, Edric lets his gaze fall to the bedside table. Her beloved jewelry box sits there, filled with each of the queen’s coveted pieces. Iris has a passion for beauty, and despite her confinement to the castle, she has never missed an opportunity to sparkle in even the dullest of halls.

But that pristine box is not what holds the king’s attention. No, it is the pink rose sprawled peacefully atop the wooden lid, and its accompanying folded piece of parchment.

Iris notes every emotion that crawls across her husband’s face. First, interest. Second, curiosity. These are both followed by a tumble of more sinister feelings: Scrutiny. Concern. Jealousy.

“A gift from one of my handmaids,” the queen answers flippantly, though no question was voiced. “I rarely get to walk the gardens, so she thought to bring a bit of the gardens to me.”

With her belly wrapped in one arm, Iris uses the other to toss the gift beneath the jewelry box’s lid. She traps the flower within the wooden walls so simply that Edric won’t spare it another thought. Instead, he will continue on until met with the end that begins in this very moment.

So, when Iris cries out in pain, and a dampness spreads the covers beneath her, the end is very near for Edric Azer. At least, for that dwindling bit of warmth within him.

CHAPTER 10Paedyn

I sit numbly beside the fire, enveloped in its heat.

The blood coating my dress and hands is nearly dry now, as are the tears that streamed down my face. Now there is nothing left but a slow, simmering rage as I sit silently in this study.

Hushed voices seep around the cracked door, stealing my attention from the trapped flames. “Where is she?” I sit up slightly at that voice. “I want to see her. I haven’t even been able to since—”

I move quickly, tripping over fumbling feet. I’m suddenly standing before the door, cutting off his words with nothing more than the mere sight of me. The smile that slides to his lips is a sad one, filled with an abundance of apologies while looking like a sigh of relief.

I fling myself into Calum’s arms without a second thought. He holds me tight, cradling the broken pieces of me with gentle care. “It’s good to see you, too,” he whispers into my hair, making me smile against his shoulder.

I pull away, looking him over. His pale eyes shine, searching mine and likely the mind behind them. This theory is only confirmed when henods slowly, blond hair dull in the dim light. “You’re welcome. It was Kitt that discovered the truth. I simply helped him get there.”

I smile, relieved to know that he heard every echo of gratitude bouncing around my skull. Because I’m not sure I could put it into words at the moment. He has helped change everything, helped turn my father’s hope into a reality.

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