Page 196 of Prize for the King
I sigh, welcoming sadness and grief for poor Snowdrop, echoes of that terror, that helplessness, and guilt. Always guilt.
“He said it was my fault,” I say ruefully. “He took my horse, the one I loved. They tied her to a pole using a short rope, and my father’s knight whipped her. I had to sit there and watch while she screamed and tried to get away. If I closed my eyes or turned my face away, my governess pinched me and told me I was weak, that I should have the gumption to face the consequences of my actions. So I watched. It took hours. I had nightmares for years.”
“Like mylarunas,” Arvi whispers hoarsely, stroking my arm. “Onlyworse.”
I hum, the pain rolling through me in waves, at first powerful, than smaller. I welcome it all. I don’t have to fight anymore. And the pain will fade. It always does.
“He never violated me,” I continue after a while. “With time, he started to lose interest. He barely touched me after I turned twenty. Sometimes, he would still pull me into his lap, try to push his fingers under my neckline. I would wake up some nights, hear him panting in my room. I think he was touching himself while watching me sleep. Back then, I had no idea what was happening. He claimed he wanted to see if I was safe.”
I fall silent, my tale of woe finally over. My chest is hollow, the place that usually crawls with shame strangely empty. Magnar doesn’t recoil, none of them does. I would have expected it in the past, but not anymore.
“I am glad you killed him,” I say, pressing my face into Magnar’s chest, where his beautiful, loving heart beats strong and steady. “I wasn’t at first. It was confusing. My life was complicated, I suppose. But you took me away, and you made things simple. I can think clearly for the first time in my life. Thank you.”
“Thank you for telling us, my prize,” he whispers, kissing my hair. “I love you, Caliane.”
“I love you, too. All of you.”
LIX Happy
It’s our honeymoon, six months after our second wedding. I have redecorated the stiff, cold sitting room downstairs, and it’s my first completed project in the keep. Fire roars merrily in the fireplace, and Magnar lies among the cushions on the enormous, warm couch, covered by a blanket. His head is in my lap, and I’m busy braiding his hair while he hums his courting song under his breath, his mouth soft with a small smile.
Outside, large, fluffy snowflakes fall, covering Raduna’s greenhouses. Arvi’s ponds are frozen solid. Khay’s nieces play outside, sliding on the ice while Khay and Tasha watch over them. They talk little. Tasha doesn’t smile often, but today, she has a faint smile on her face. Winter is her favorite season.
“Turn your head, my love,” I murmur, pulling Magnar’s pointy ear to get him to move. “I want to braid your other side.”
“My pleasure,” he says with a huff, pressing his face right between my legs.
My belly is in the way, but that doesn’t deter him. He kisses me where his mouth is pressed. I huff with amusement.
“Have I told you Molly got engaged?” I ask, reaching for the letter I got from the queen of Lovar today. “He’s a prince from one of the free cities overseas. She says he’s very handsome and seduced her with adance. Just like you seduced me!”
Magnar purrs, putting his hand on my belly. “I danced for youafteryou were head over heels in love. First, I seduced you with my impeccable manners and gentle nature.”
I laugh heartily. The baby wakes up and kicks, and Magnar coos lovingly, stroking my belly where the tiny limb presses out through my flesh.
“And who’s a lively little baby? You heard mommy laughing, didn’t you? Oh yes, mommy has a pretty laugh. Wait till you see her. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world, she is.”
I laugh, tying off a braid before I start another. Raduna and Arvi step in, shaking snow off their heads. Arvi takes off his hat, this one dark green, and hangs it on a chair in front of the fireplace.
“Bad news, my king,” Raduna says with a salute. “Captain Hovar says he cracked a group of zealots plotting to overthrow you. You’ll have to preside over the trial, probably next week.”
Magnar groans, pressing his face to my belly. The baby kicks him in the nose, and he snickers, giving us a kiss.
“Already a fighter, just like her mommy. Can I sit at the trial in my bathrobe or would that be too much?”
“You’d be cold,” I say with a shrug. “Your throne room is drafty. I told you, it’s that one window that clatters when it’s windy. Someone needs to seal it with wax.”
“Ugh. Fine. Arvi, find someone who knows how to deal with drafty windows and get them to fix it. My queen said so.”
“Your laziness knows no bounds,” Arvi says with a scoff. “When will you finally itch for a fight, Magnar? I don’t want to lose my bet.”
“Raduna will win the bet,” Magnar says, waving his hand indolently. “Go off. Get the window fixed.”
“What did you bet on, Raduna?” I ask, genuinely curious.
I know Arvi and Khay gave Magnar two years of peace at mostbefore they expected him to get swallowed by the urge to fight and conquer. I try not to think about it. For now, Magnar seems perfectly domestic and happy with his peaceful life.
Raduna takes off his coat and boots and dons a pair of comfortable, woolen slippers, sitting by my side with a happy sigh.
