Page 37 of What Fury Brings
Now the room was quiet. Everyone strained to overhear their conversation.
“Perhaps you thought my earlier words were an exaggeration. You have a choice to make, Prince. I can spill all your blood on this floor or you can mind your manners and enjoy breakfast with me. Choose.”
With all the Amarran nobility watching, Sanos could only surmise that she was telling the truth. She would really kill him if he didn’t go along with her plans. It wasn’t necessarily that he’d doubted her words earlier, but he hadn’t thought her capable of disciplining him here, in front of everyone. All the beatings from his father were dealt in private. The king didn’t want anyone to know what a hateful bastard he was.
But Olerra was different. She had felled him with a single blow for all to see, and now she held a knife to his throat.
Sanos wanted to demand death. He wanted to fight her until one of them succumbed to the other, but then he thought of his mother and sister. Of his brothers. So many needed him to return home.
He needed to live.
Sanos raised his hands in surrender, but his lip curled in disgust. Olerra stepped back and gestured at an empty chair with the knife.
He peeled himself off the floor and sat. Olerra drew a key from her pocket, undid his manacles, and reattached them behind the back of the chair.
He wasn’t going anywhere now.
When Olerra righted herself, she looked about the room. “They say the most dangerous stallions are the best to ride once they’re broken.”
The room erupted into laughter. Sanos did not care for the comparison.
“And since I know you’re all dying to ask me, I’ll tell you now.” She looked at Sanos beneath her lashes. “The rumors about Brutish men are true.”
The Amarrans whistled and clapped. Sanos had no clue what rumors they spoke of, and by the reaction of the crowd, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He looked around at the other men in the room, searching for a sympathetic face.
He found none.
They looked at their women adoringly. One was petting the armband above his left bicep.
Sanos realized that all the men in the room wore armbands. The ornamentation consisted of all manner of stones cut into different shapes. Different metals twining around arms, each bent into unique designs.
The man from earlier, Daneryn, had said something about wanting to wear Olerra’s onyx. As Sanos looked through the masses, he didn’t see any other men with onyx on their arms.
It was a mark that made him hers, he realized.
Olerra caught the look of approval her aunt shot her way. Olerra was also proud of herself. Not only had she managed to fight Andrastus without anyone suspecting her secret, she’d played off the altercation to her favor.
She’d thought that if Andrastus resisted her, it would make her look weak. Instead, it allowed her to show her strength in taming him. It would take time, but she actually might pull this off. She could do this.
She just wished the words she’d had to say to the crowd hadn’t been at her betrothed’s expense. He wasn’t a stallion. He was a man, and she knew that. His gender as a whole might be full of disappointments, especially outside of Amarra, but Andrastus deserved better treatment. Not for the first time, Olerra hated the part she had to play in rallying the nobles to her side. She knew why. Men had to be controlled or else they would seek to control women. Little girls were told horror stories of the way their ancestors had lived under the rule of men.
But there had to be a better way. One she could explore once she was finally queen.
Until then, she had a part to play while convincing Andrastus to like her. If she even could. Right now, he was so irate that he wouldn’t look at her.
That changed the moment she lowered herself into his lap.
Olerra felt his whole body stiffen, but at least his tautness meant he was flexing. As she looked to the curve of a bicep, she realized it was enormous compared to that of other men at the table. She’d thought the measurements impressive when she’d given them to the smithy last night. The blacksmith had stayed up all night to make this armband in time. Olerra hadn’t realized the size difference until Andrastus was here for her to compare to the other men.
Just what kind of training had Andrastus done to get this kind ofform? And what did his other brothers look like? Especially the eldest? The warrior?
“I would ask how you two are getting along, but I think I already know,” the queen said.
Olerra looked up at her man and ran a hand down his hard jaw, trying to soften the expression there. “We’re working on it.”
“How was your first night together?”
Andrastus’s face didn’t move as she said, “Delicious.”
