Page 135 of Between Wrath and Mercy

“You’ve waited this long, my love.” I raised my brow, giving him a coy smile, and he groaned. A laugh bubbled up my throat, but it was quickly stifled when my attention was drawn behind him, where two of the council members watched me with shuttered eyes. They spoke quietly, not looking at each other and only watching me. It was the first time I felt truly uneasy. With Lavenia and Dewalt, the council voted before the ritual was performed, allowing them a chance to argue and debate over his lack of title and if they found him worthy for one. With me, they hadn't had the chance, the meeting bypassed because of Soren's illness. Though I had little doubt Rain would have married me regardless of their stance on my title, it seemed the assembly was designed to persuade against the marriage to someone the council deemed inappropriate. I sipped on my glass of champagne, meeting the scrutinous gazed of one of the men. He was tall, almost as tall as Rain, but much slimmer. He watched me as if I was a stain on an otherwise new shirt. It made me uncomfortable, but I wasn’t about to let anyone on the council think I was a meek, quivering fool who'd been swept up in a great romance with a prince. Although at moments, I felt exactly that. Like when Rain put his hand on the small of my back to press me against him and whisper about just what parts of me he wanted to taste and which places he’d give special attention to. I felt myself flush, and my nipples hardened before I lightly pushed him back.

“Stop it. I’m in a glaring match with one of your council members.” He huffed a laugh as he pulled away.

“One ofourcouncil members,” he corrected with a raised brow. “Which one?” He saw where I stared and gave a brief glance over his shoulder before turning back to me, annoyed. “Scias. He will be replaced the minute I am formally king. He is originally from Kieza and an original pain in the ass.” He chuckled under his breath. “He’s almost as old as my father.”

I widened my eyes at him in panic. I'd heard no news of Keeva's death. Not even a whisper. I supposed it served me well that the assassin princess visited me in secret. But certainly, whoever was meant to accompany her back to Nythyr had to know she was missing.

"Rain, does he—"

"No one knows. Be calm." Rain pulled me into his embrace, pressing my head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me.

"Her servants? Guards? Someone has to—"

"They've been taken care of. No one knows, Emmeline."

That made me start with fright, pulling away from him with force, my hair snagging on the stubble gracing his chin.

"You didn't." Chin jutting out to keep my demeanor strong, I demanded answers.

"I didn't, no."

"But?" My voice broke, "Rain..."

"Those who could be Coerced were spared. Between Dewalt and Ven, they believed Keeva left for Nythyr without them. But the men who planned to report back, bringing down the Nine upon you and Vesta with a vengeance? Those men no longer draw breath, and I will not apologize for it."

"But you said you didn't." How many people had died because of me? Because of Keeva?

"I said that I did not execute them. It was Thyra, if you must know."

My jaw dropped. "Thyra?"

"She was quite distraught about your injuries. We are lucky it wasn't more. She wanted to kill them all."

Blinking, I crossed my arms as I stared up at him, warring emotions consuming me.

"You chose your Second well, wife." A grin played upon his lips, but I didn't share the sentiment. I’d killed someone, even if she’d tried to kill me first. And how many others died because of it? I wasn’t sure how to bear it, just that I had to.

"If anyone finds out..." I trailed off, eyes darting over to the men staring daggers at me.

"Oh, they will eventually. There's no getting around it. But not today. Besides, you're a princess now. You have immunity." I could hear a tone of pride in his voice. I washisprincess. Even if I still needed to get through the next hour to be formally recognized as such.

“Oh, but I had my sights set onqueen.” I pulled back, crossing my arms like a pouting child to match the whine in my voice. He gave me his lopsided grin and a deep laugh which tugged on the golden thread, pulling from my heart. He took a breath, his smile dropping a bit.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” Rain took my arm in his and turned, heading toward the two council members who had been attempting to burn holes through my head for the last quarter-hour.

“Lord Ellington. Sir Scias.” He tilted his head in respect to the men who gave quick bows, replying in unison. Lord Ellington begrudgingly took my hand, placing a kiss on my knuckles, and I had to force myself not to pull it back from him.

“Lady Emmeline, it is a pleasure.” His face told a different story, and I was sure mine mirrored it. He couldn’t let go of my hand fast enough. I felt Rain tense beside me at his choice of title, however, I had no intention of splitting hairs. Though I didn’t hold the title of princess quite yet, it didn’t stop the other council members I’d met from deferring with the formal ‘Your Highness.’ Which, I had to admit, wasn’t something I’d get used to anytime soon. I didn’t care about my title, but the respect which came with it was not something Rain was willing to negotiate, and I supposed I shouldn’t either.

“Lady Emmeline.” The man who had held my glare from across the room was much taller now I saw him up close. Taller than Rain by a hair, he glared down his nose at me, the distaste still plain on his face. When he took my hand, he spoke, but only to me.

You will not last, fahyše.

He was in my mind, just like the Myriad woman had been. And the last word he said, I recognized it. It was the same word that doomed a man to death at Rain’s hand before I stopped it. The word uttered that brought Thyra down on him, his spit hitting the ground just before he did. I remembered it just like I remembered his face after Rain was through with him.

Whore.

It was so quiet and faint I would have thought I imagined it if it weren’t for the racing heartbeat coming from the man. The heartbeat of adrenaline and rage. The sound a drum of deep disrespect and pungent anger. In a surge of frustration, I grasped his elbow with both hands before he stepped away and looked him in the eyes. I wanted him to know I was not weak, nor was I to be disrespected like that or taken advantage of. It was clear he assumed so little of me that he would brazenly say such things to me, even if only in my mind, the wife of his crown prince. As if my word would be no match for his own.

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