Page 1 of Death Do Us Part
One
A fairy execution ends with your intestines being pulled out of your anus.
I’d still prefer that over marriage.-KingRichard
Whilestandingin the elegantWedding Room, surroundedbymy most loyal subjects, all I can think about is settingthisplaceon fire.Ienvision everyonescreamingas they fall to their knees,blueflameslickingup theirwasp-likewings.My eyes land on the groom weeping at the altar.He will definitely be the first to go.Drawing the ceremonial sword at myhip, Imove through the smoke like a phantom.My black blade sings through the dark.My eyes stay cold, but my lips curl into a smile.
As king, I’m supposed to protect these people.As a man, Iwant them dead.
Ideally, before I have to suffer through thetwenty-sevenminutes it’ll taketo witness this bloodywedding.Twenty-one,my inner voice helpfully corrects.With the bridebeingdead, at least Iwon’thave to listen to her vows.
My jaw ticsas a woman’s face fills my mind.Black hair.Violet eyes.Skin the same colour as theancienttreewelive in.But instead of the smile that used to grace her face when she wasalive, now she looks at me in disappointment.
Aurelialoved weddings, especially oneslike this,where the brideisadead war hero and the groomisthe fiancéthat got leftbehind.She found them oh-so-romantic.But all I see is tragedy.
All I remember is her.
My chest tight, Ilet myeyes drift lazily across the room.War dresses cling to the women like spider webs,hiding predatorsin fine silk threads.The civilian men are dressed in their finest suits – jacquard three-pieces in a range of colours.Shades of black andpurple dominate the roomthough; they’rethe colours of our kingdom, Raza,and thisis, after all, a noble wedding.
Above us, the high ceiling is criss-crossed with ornate arches.Between each curve of wood are splendid works of art, and lurking in front of them, camouflaged against the paint, are half a dozen snipers, armed with premade attack wands – those made in factories and loaded with spells so even non-witches can use them.The wasp-like wings of the snipers make no sound.Even knowing they’reupthere, I can’t spot a single one of the women who make up myRoyalGuard.
More guards stand at attention by the windows, peering out onto the city of Kholar as it sprawls over the branches of our tree.Our castleisbuilt inside the thick trunkof it,well within the centre of our kingdom and far from the war ravaging our borders.Still…
“If someone tries tokillme,” I mutter toJace,thehead of my security, “let them.”
“Andthenhave to suffer through this on my own?”Jace whispers back,standing on my right.“Nah, I’m jumping in front of that sword.”
“Asshole.”
“I know I told you I’d beavailableto youwhenever you’d like,” hesays deadpan, “but demanding my asshole at a time like this will cause quite the scene.”
Iglare at him in annoyance.For fuck’s sake,I didn’t say ‘asshole’ as in ‘[give me your] asshole’, butI should have knownbetter;Jace turnsevery insult into an innuendo.
You’re a bitch – Of course I am, baby.Who wouldn’t be in heat for you?
Fuck off and die –Spread your legs for me then, love,and I’ll gostraightto heaven.
Go to hel – Certainly,boo.Or we can skip the whole dying thing, and youcanwhip me now.
“If you take your trousers off,” I growl low as he starts to undo his belt with one hand, “I will cut off your hand.”
He chuckles as he drops his arm tohisside.“Would you like me to narrate it for you instead,Your Highness?”His voice deepens.“My cock hardens as you drag my –”
“You say one more word,” I bite out, “and I’ll take your tongue.”
“No, you won’t,”he says cheerfully.“You like my tongue.And you haven’t even felt it on your ass yet.”
“Jace.”
“Odin’s eye, you two,” my brothersnapsfromonmy left.His personal bodyguard is on his other side,and circling us is another dozen, most of them women.“This is awedding,” Nicholas stresses.“Can you two, for once, please show some respect?Anoblediedat war.”
Jace snorts.“She tried to shoot herself in the foot to get out ofactiveduty and accidentally took off her whole leg.”
Premade wands are a lot easier to use than regular ones, but they’re still dangerous if not handled properly.
“Still, a man is grieving,” Nicholas protests.
“Bullshit,” I say, nodding at the necromancer only a few paces away fromthe groom.“He’s going to resurrect his wife before the day is over.What does he have to grieve?”It’s not like she’s lost to him forever.My chest aches, that fucking holeAurelialeft growingeverwider.A fracturing chasm that’s so damn close to swallowing mewhole.
