Page 58 of The Oracle of Dusk

“Do you know what I do to men without honour?”

“Get inside!”

A scuffle ensued. Metal smashed into metal. Then metal into stone. Swearing ensued as the soldier called for help. Grunts and groans of pain ended with a shrill scream. As other soldiers arrived, the king laughed through the beating they delivered.

“He bit off my ear!” the guard shrieked in the distance.

“Be glad I only took your ear!” the king called out as the door to the palace was closed.

The lock of the outer door clicked into place with finality.

“Viridian scum,” the king swore as he groaned, struggling to his feet.

Aurora prayed he wouldn’t find her in her hiding place. A man who so quickly turned to gory violence would no doubt delight in the screams of a small woman.

As the king shuffled close, sweat rolled down her back. Gripping her skirt with clammy hands, she held her breath as he stood before her. Only his feet were visible from her position but they were filthy, caked in mud and other unmentionable substances, and only one had a soldier’s sandal on it. He leaned down to grab the keys and sat himself on her bench, unlocking the shackles that had circled his ankles. But she knew from experience that the shackles on his wrists wouldn’t be so easy.

He muttered curses under his breath as he fumbled. When the keys dropped from his hands and hit the floor, Aurora jumped.

The king parted the foliage in an instant and grabbed her dress, hauling her up from her hiding spot with a snarl.

He was going to kill her, smash her head to pieces against the floor, tear her limb from bleeding limb. She’d been hauled around like a ragdoll by the others here, treated like an object instead of a person for weeks now. It was too much. She’d not done anything to deserve this. Aurora was sick to death of people manhandling her just because they were bigger. As if moving of its own accord, her fist rammed into his nose. Her magic surged in tandem as she screamed.

“Stop!” she cried.

And he did. When she dared open her eyes, he was frozen. He wasn’t even breathing, as if trapped in amber. The creature inside her chest had its jaws locked around him, holding him in place, the effort straining muscles she’d never known existed.

Move. Move. Move!

It wouldn’t last forever. She had to get out of his grasp before then. But his hands were fisted in the material of her dress. Aurora writhed until her gown tore. She fell to the floor, the bodice of her gown still clutched between that monster’s paws. Aurora struggled to her feet, clutching the tattered remains of her gown to her chest and limped away as far as she could. But the further she got, the more difficult holding him with her magic became, as if it were a leather strap pulled too tight. With a force that nearly sent her to her knees, her magic snapped back.

The king was moving again.

And she was but a few paces away from his wrath.

He reeled, clutching his nose and swearing, torn fabric falling from his fists. He spotted her immediately, took half a step toward her and stopped, eyes wide. He held up his hands and knelt.

“My apologies, little one. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, his rich, deep voice unexpectedly gentling along with his expression. Then he caught sight of her figure, the breasts she could barely conceal, and that gentle expression turned to confusion.

Aurora swallowed, eyes watering from his stench the longer she stared at his dishevelled face. His beard was a mess, full of blood both old and new, and his long hair was a matted nest. She couldn’t even tell exactly what colour it was, only that it was dark. His clothes had fared about as well as his sandals, torn, stained, and filthy. Her insides crawled just looking at it.

Had the guard at the door not called him ‘Your Majesty,’ Aurora would not have believed him to be more than an unlucky beggar. An especially tall, broad-shouldered beggar with more muscles than any man ought to have. Goddess, he must be a true giant. Everyone here was enormous, but he would easily tower over everyone she’d seen thus far. The top of her head probably only met his elbows. And now he was staring at her with a piercing golden gaze that turned her insides to jelly.

She raised her chin, willing her hands to still, her back to straighten.

“I mean you no harm, madam fairy. I deserved that right hook for manhandling you in that way.” He picked up the fallen keys and held them out to her, careful not to move any closer to her. “But if you would be so kind as to free me, I will repay that kindness.”

Aurora waited, considering her options. She could use an ally here, and he was as big and scary as they came. But what she needed from him was a vow. One upon his honour. For the histories made mention that even the most terrifying of monarchs were bound by their honour.

“Are you truly a king?”

“I am.”

“Then vow upon your honour that you will not harm me.”

He smiled gently.

“I vow upon my honour as king that I will not harm you.”

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