Page 122 of Oath of War
I held my breath as I listened to the exchange.
‘An artisan quarter, with low taxes and freedom to trade with whomever we chose. I want to bring dwarven smiths and my kin here. You need a skilled workforce to rebuild this city,’ Bryna replied, then paused. ‘Plus, if Annika is staying here, I may as well,’ she added.
I couldn’t help but leap forward, wrapping my arms around her sturdy frame.
‘Thank the gods! I didn’t want to ask, to pressure you, but you promise you’re staying, yes? Gods, I wish Katja were here. She would whip this place into shape without breaking a sweat,’ I said, tears slipping down my cheeks as Bryna patted my back.
‘Katja would be so proud of you,’ she said softly. ‘She always believed you were made for greater things than hunting monsters in a backwater village.’ She squeezed my hand then,pulling me towards the exit. ‘Come, O mighty Harbinger of Light. I’ve gotthefinest moonshine stashed in my tent.’
Before I could follow her, Orm’s hand shot out, pulling me back.
‘Oh no, you can have your artisan quarter and low taxes, but Annika stays here ... at least for today,’ he insisted, and despite my weak protests, I knew I had to stay until the celebration ended later that evening.
‘My back is aching, and my legs ... Why did we have to listen to everyone’s petitions? What kind of celebration is it when you have to work all evening?’ I grumbled, leaning against Orm for support. ‘And these bloody heels...’ I hissed, finally pulling off the torture devices.
Ormond laughed, embracing me as he pointed towards a small door at the back of the throne room.
‘I think our subjects will relax more if we leave. It is time for this repentant king to kneel before his fiery goddess and grovel for forgiveness while massaging her aching toes,’ he said, his mischievous grin making me forget about my exhaustion.
‘A few hours of being king, and you’re already trying to steal my job,’ Alaric teased, approaching us. ‘If my lady needs a healing touch, I’m clearly the obvious choice.’
‘You know I have two legs, right? And you’re supposed to share,’ I said, smiling as I watched their baffled expressions.
I burst into laughter, realising with surprising clarity that if this was my new life, I bloody loved Ozar.
My bare feet hit the cold stone floor of the corridor. I was too tired to pretend to be some dainty lady, and all I wanted was to curl up in bed with my men. Before we’d left, Orm and Alaric had bickered over who would carry me, so I’d taken the decision out of their hands and set off alone. The chill of the stone was a welcome relief to the ache in my feet, and soon enough, the two men stopped their arguing to catch up with me.
We soon found ourselves in one of the many small interior courtyards, and I stopped, looking up to gaze at the night sky.This, I realised,is home. This beautiful palace, with its gardens full of stars, was a place I could finally call my own.
A smile tugged at my lips. The old Moroi king’s palace was nothing like I’d imagined. Built atop a small hill, it wasn’t a single building but a collection of them, each a masterpiece in its own right. Galleries and pathways connected the structures, and walled gardens hid hot springs that kept the air warm even in the dead of winter.
The changes in the palace were nothing short of miraculous, and I knew it was all thanks to Alaric. While Orm had focused on rebuilding the town and caring for the citizens, Alaric and his undead army had taken on the monumental task of clearing the palace ruins.
The work wasn’t finished, but the living and administrative quarters were cleared, and aside from the epicentre of my fight with Cahyon, most of the palace had remained untouched. Ari had even retrieved furniture, décor, and fabrics stored in the vaults. As much as Ormond insisted on using all the money to support the rebuilding of the country, Alaric had advocated for keeping the old masterpieces in the palace to preserve the heritage of the old kingdom.
I had taken a step back from those responsibilities, spending most of my free time with Vahin. The wounds of war had left scars that didn’t want to heal, and even if the reasonable part of me was at peace with what I’d done, my heart couldn’t accept it. I missed Katja, thinking of the moment her spirit had come back from behind the Veil to help me during my last stand. She was as much a part of me as one of my Anchors, and my dragon was the only one who truly understood.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked, breaking my thoughts when Orm pulled me to his side.
‘That’s a surprise,’ he said with a grin. He brushed my braid aside and bent to place a kiss on my neck, his teeth playfully nipping at my skin. Before I could react, he swept me off the ground, and I squealed, instinctively wrapping my hands around his neck.
‘Hmm, that’s much better,’ he murmured, pressing his nose to my collarbone. ‘I should punish you for denying your Anchor the simplest of pleasures.’
‘And what would that be?’ I asked, my feet dangling in mid-air.
‘Caring for my woman, touching her, making her sigh with pleasure after she’s hissed in pain with each step.’ His eyes sparkled with a familiar glint. ‘What do you think, Alaric? Should we take this hardened warrior to her quarters instead of showing her the surprise we worked so hard on?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Alaric replied with a sly smile, his hand sliding along Orm’s spine. ‘If we did that, then we’d have to find something else to do for the rest of the night.’
I felt a shiver run through Orm, and my grip on his neck tightened in response.
‘Alright, you win,’ I said, throwing my head back and placing one hand on my forehead in a dramatic gesture. ‘Oh, please, good warrior, take me, take me to ... ehh ... where exactly are we going?’
Orm roared with laughter, shaking his head as he began walking again. ‘I told you, it’s a surprise,’ he said, exchanging glances with Alaric.
A few minutes later, we stood in front of a pair of double doors. They were made of dark oak, intricately carved with ornate floral decorations that glimmered with the faint glow of magic, the soft light brightening the corridor.
Orm pressed his lips to my ear as Alaric gripped the brass handles, saying, ‘Welcome to our new refuge, Nivale. Our very private quarters, where only a trusted few can enter.’
