Page 161 of Prize for the King
“You should have said Agnidari dick addled your brain, love. He would have understood it.”
“Oh, hush,” I grumble. “What will you do if it happens again?”
He hands me over to Raduna who lifts me onto the saddle. “I suppose I’ll send messengers ahead, telling people not to attack us if they don’t want to die. Worked well enough in Farneer. Fuck, what a headache. I should have conquered Trista, too.”
“If you have regrets, you should abdicate as the ruler of Farneer. As a lawful king, you are bound by the pact of the Eleven Kingdoms. You’re forbidden from attacking any other kingdom or king, forever. So if you still have conquest on your mind, let’s go back and forfeit the crown. No one bats an eye at the foreign Tyrant taking the kingdoms one by one, but if one ofthemdoes it, it will cause an outrage.”
“No regrets,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Those same laws protect us, or theyshould.I’ll send word ahead so people know what it means to attack us. Fucking nuisance.”
That’s only one of many difficulties on our way. Magnar took pains to make sleeping arrangements, booking inns and negotiating lodging with local castle-owning aristocracy along the way. I wrote those letters while we traveled, following Magnar’s itinerary prepared ahead of time. I received very kind, welcoming invitations.
Yet when our group of thirty-five bearing the Farneer flag reaches the first castle on our list, the gates don’t open for us. Human guards on the walls don’t shoot, but they don’t let us in, either, even when Ishout, demanding to see Lord Aspen, who the castle belongs to. We ride away humiliated, Magnar’s jaw clenched tightly.
With no other option left, we make camp. My first night in a tent is warm and toasty since I spend it embraced by both Magnar and Raduna.
The next night, we reach a roadside inn we booked, and I am informed by the fearful yet firm owner that all their beds are taken. Magnar drops a jingling pouch of money on the counter and asks furiously if there will be at least one room for his wife, and the owner grudgingly agrees. The inn doesn’t sound busy, and the owner clearly lied, but Magnar is determined not to cause unnecessary strife along the way.
“I mean, we could kill everyone and move in,” Arvi says with a nasty gleam in his eye, twirling his knife.
“And have the king of Trista turn against us even before we meet him?” Magnar asks with a vicious hiss. “No. We’ll do everything right, and then we’ll go home, and hopefully, never leave Roharra again.”
I frown, walking over to take his face in both hands. “You know as well as I do that’s not likely. You’ll need to participate in the Gatherings at least twice a year.”
Magnar sighs and catches my wrist, kissing my knuckles. “Not if we play it right. Bathe and sleep, love. Raduna and Arvi will stay with you. I’ll pitch a tent.”
“But…” He’s gone before I have time to protest.
Arvi scoffs, shaking his head. “He’s punishing himself,” he says as he helps me undress while Raduna brings in hot water. “He was so proud of arranging everything for his pregnant queen to be comfortable, and here we are, thwarted by stupid humans. He takes it personally.”
“And you don’t?” Raduna rumbles, pouring hot water into a small hip bath. “They act like this because they hate our race.”
But Arvi snickers, shaking his head. “That’s their problem, not mine. I know my race is perfectly fine. It’s their fault for being wrong.”
I toss and turn that night, thinking of Magnar sleeping out there in a tent. His eyes are purple-rimmed in the morning, clearly sleep-deprived, and his only response to my worried greeting is a grunt.
Our journey continues more or less the same way. Only one inn in Trista honors their arrangement with us, and Magnar pays them triple the agreed fee to reward them. At least we don’t lack money. This is how I find out my husband is at least five times as wealthy as my father was. He spends gold without an eyeblink.
“Oh, that’s not even Roharra’s wealth, but what he earned through his conquests,” Khay explains, munching on an apple as we ride through a pine forest on an uncommonly warm fall day. “You know, all the manoli and gold greedily hoarded in every castle he took. That’s what he spends, and there’s so much more—you have no idea. But that’s his personal money. Each kingdom has a separate budget that Magnar doesn’t touch. It’s set aside for innovations, road repairs, stuff like that. That’s the deal. They earn their keep, and he gives back what’s rightfully theirs.”
I think back to my father’s fall traditions. Every year after harvest, after the taxes were paid, he’d bring in artists, perfumers, rifling artisans, and scores of horse breeders to Farneer. They came pouring in, knowing there was good money in it. He spent what he earned in taxes with a light hand, showering me with gifts.
“My prize must lack for nothing. Try on those earrings. Go on, don’t be shy. They will bring out your eyes. And that necklace, too. They should go well together.”
I shiver, and Khay’s arms tighten around me. “Cold?” he asks, voice bland, like he knows it cannot be the cause.
I shake my head. “Bad memory. How far to the border?”
“It’s on the river just outside the forest. We’ll have to cross the bridge. Just a word of warning, but you might have to negotiate. Magnar barely holds it together. He might just slaughter the bridge guard, and then it will be all over.”
I sigh, shaking my head. “All of this for a few trade treaties. We don’t even need them that much. I saw our books. Roharra and the conquered four are doing perfectly well, and Magnar’s empire is mostly self-sufficient at this point. We have mines, a robust honey trade, and thriving agriculture.”
Khay clears his throat. “It’s not really about the trade treaties.”
I frown. “It’s not? But Magnar said…” I break off, realizing he’s never explicitly told me what his goal is. All I know is he needs that seat. But why?
“Bridge,” Khay murmurs when we turn a bend, the line of trees ending ahead. Something glitters silver—sunlight on water. The front line of riders stop, and Magnar passes us at a canter.
“Trouble?” I ask, wondering how I can possibly earn us a passage without any bloodshed if the bridge guards seek to humiliate us.
