Page 12 of The Call of Crimson
“The terms were simple. We would marry within a year of the agreement being finalized. That happened in June—so the clock’s ticking. Our marriage ends the conflict between Prudia and Rimor.”
“That’s too simple. What else does it say?”
Ayden chuckles. “Clever girl.”
The way he says those two words tickle the back of my mind, but I ignore it. For now.
“It also states that should either of us assume our thrones before the year is up, the agreement—in this instance, our nuptials—would take effect immediately.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that we’re both still just prince and princess,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Are we?” Ayden quirks a brow at me.
The room falls dead silent.
I scan each face, every one of them avoiding my gaze.
“Breyla,” Ophelia says gently, “you may not have been coronated yet… but the throne is yours now.”
My chest tightens as my jaw drops open at the gravity of what that means.
If I’m crowned, I become Ayden’s wife. Immediately.
If I delay, leaving the throne empty, I buy myself time.
Eight months.
But at the cost of my kingdom’s stability.
“So, My Queen,” Ayden says smoothly, his smile unapologetically smug, “how does a winter wedding sound?”
The words hit their mark.
Aurelius snarls and lunges, slamming his brother to the ground.
They crash to the floor, fists already flying.
“Do you want me to step in?” Elijah asks, watching them roll across the floor, trading punches.
“I say let them work their differences out,” Jade replies with a shrug.
“Maybe without shirts,” Ophelia adds.
Clearly caught off guard by Ophelia’s unusually bold commentary, Elijah turns to study her like he’s trying to solvea puzzle. “That’s enough of that,” he says, scooping her into his arms.
As he walks toward the door, he tosses over his shoulder, “Good luck,” and carries her out, her laughter trailing behind him.
Jade raises an eyebrow in silent question.
I don’t even hesitate. “I don’t give a fuck what either of these idiots do. Let them fight it out, for all I care.” I shrug, pulling myself from the chair and leaving to find somewhere else to be. Somewhere with wine, hopefully.
Hopefully alotof it.
CHAPTER THREE
AURELIUS
The scent of ale and incense hits me the moment I step inside. To call this a tavern would be only partially correct. Sure, it offers drinks, but its main source of income comes from the males and females who offer to provide far more than conversation. If the rumors were to be believed, the Midnight Brotherhood also operates out of the rooms on the top floor.
