Page 2 of Death Do Us Part
“She’s still going to be missing a legwhen she’s brought back, and –”
“Prince Nicholas,” Jace says softly.Firmly.And it shuts my brother up.
But my hand is already on the hilt of my sword, ready to spill blood to quiet the thoughts in my skull.Jace’s hand covers mine, stopping me from drawing the black blade and making my earlier daydream a reality.
Forcing my fingers to loosen, I release my weapon, and heremoveshis hand immediately.I keep my eyes straight ahead, but I know a look passes between the two men,and terrible shame fills me.Whatever pain I am feeling, I know Jace is suffering worse.Yet, I’ve forced him into the role of carer yet again.
The wedding finishes in a few minutes, with not one more word from our group.Nicholas vanishes, along with his third of the guards.He loathes crowds even more than I do these days, but whereas I hate the people who surround me, he hateshimself.
Beneath hiswavy, shoulder-lengthblackhair, theonce charming face thatstarred in the dreamsofmanywomen–even though he had never thought to cheat on his wife–is no more.The left half of it is twisted and melted like a wax doll that was left out in the sun.The right sports an ugly thick scar running from his brow, across his nose, and to his lip.They’re permanent wounds that even our healers cannot fixwith their magic.
Unlikewith the other human races(all those made in the images ofourthree pantheons ofgods, not just those fragile things on Earth), fairies are not free of scars,however,so at least he is not unique in that regard.At least he has not been made into a gruesome exhibit of curiosity like scarredvampires,angels, orfaeare.Unlike us, those racescelebrate perfection,and they ostracise anyone who isn’t flawless.
Buteven though most Razians are scarred,my brotherhides away in shame.For unlike the rest of the people in this room, he did not get hiswoundson the battlefield.He got them from his wife.
Ex-wife, I remind myself, as of two days ago.And if I can ever get him to rescind his protection of her, shewillbe hisex-wife.
But Nicholas is your typical male – soft, kind, and fragile despite the muscles he packs like armour.He does not like violence; like Aurelia once did, he still holds on togoodnessin a kingdom that kills it all too soon.
Raza is hel on Gaera, and I am its king.
“Dick incoming,” Jace mutters at my side, pulling my attention away from my brother’s retreating form.For a moment, I don’t know if he’s making another innuendoor –
My eyes narrow as I spot the woman in his sights.
Fucking Petre.
She’s dressed in a black web of silk and sin, with a half-cape off her shoulder, silver spikes running from her neck to her arm.Her other shoulder is bare.The black of her gown hugs tight to her breastsandwaist.Glitters of silver catch the light as she moves.Her skirt falls in rippling thinfabric, cloaking the movement of her legs so she can strike like the snake she is.
Her black hair is pinned up in a braided bun, with two sharp, blade-like hair sticks slipped through it.Her green-and-silver eyes seem even sharper still.She might be able to stab people with her hair accessories, but her eyes could gut a woman with just a look.
Despite the lethality of her movements, myguards move out of her way.After all, she’s one of the Dragons of Kholar,a title held bythe twelvefairy womenwho make up my Court.
Ironically, though, most of the assassination attempts on my life have come from the Court – not that there’s ever any evidence of that.
“King Morningstar,” she says silkily, lifting both arms at the elbow, then flipping themoverto display her empty palms.Unlike the other nobles, the Court is above bowing given their whole purpose is to give counsel to the crown.If they are forced to take a knee every time we meet, they will not speak freely.
Which is unfortunate given I do not want them to speak at all.In fact, I am looking forward to the moment I get to ‘retire’ them by plunging my sword into their hearts.They live to serve the kingdom, and they are to die for it.As soonas my newest lawpasses,come tomorrow,the Court will be no more.
“DragonPetre,” I acknowledgewith aferalsmile.Butit fallsquickly as she gestures to someone in the crowd.As the rest of the guests head towards the large double doors leadingoutinto the hall,a single man comes towards us.He’s dressed in the dark-purple and black robes of aHighScholar.
A keeper of our laws.
Fuck.
If he’s found something in some ancient text, he could ruin my plans completely.I spent six years working on a way to disassemble the Court so I can have free reign over my kingdom, and I’m certain I’ve finally found a way to do so.But our laws are vast and complicated, hence having an entire order dedicated to learning –andinterpreting– them.
He smiles at Petrelike a man with only one thing on his mind.She returns it like the black widow she is.“Please tell King Morningstar what you told me,” she purrs at him.
He gulps as he turns to face me.Awash with nerves, he wrings his hands in front of him as he tries to meet my gaze.His eyes immediately drop to thewoodenfloor at our feet.
“For a law to be created, it must have the signatures of seven nobles of the Court –”
“Lowercase C,” I cut in.That minor grammatical error – the penmanship off by the tiniest smidge– was the loophole I needed to bypass bringing my newest law to the attention of the Court.Every fairy of noble blood is a member of thecourt.Including bastards.Including commoners I turn into nobility in exchange for their signature.
“Y-yes,” he stammers.“But it also needs the signature of a queen –”
“A king,” I correct.“We updated the terminology of all our documents twenty-one years ago.”Before then, our laws used the gendered noun of “queen” to define Raza’s ruler as there’d never been a ruling king before me.The Court used that to try to block me from taking the throne.I used it to claim that I didn’t have to follow any of our old rules at all.We compromised by adding “or king” to all the documents.
