Page 20 of Prize for the King
“What,” I snap through clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry, but isthiswhat you’re wearing?” he asks, chuckling and shaking his head. His dark eyes crinkle with humor. “My lady, with all due respect, this isnotthe right choice. We’ll be traveling fast, changing horses. This won’t be a picnic in the woods.”
It takes a great deal of effort to stay composed, and my voice still comes out harsh and grumpy.
“This is my most comfortable riding dress. What do you suggest I wear instead?”
“How about some trousers?”
I grit my teeth.Oh, the audacity.“I don’t own any.”
Outside, a war horn blows, its sound shriller than that of the hunting horns I know. Khay looks at the ceiling with a weary sigh, as if praying for patience.
“See? That’s why I should have stayed and watched. I would have found you a pair of trousers, but it’s too late now. Come. We have to go. I hope you’re wearing something appropriate underneath, at least.”
I nod, biting the inside of my lower lip to keep my face impassive.
It’s not like I picked a pair of silk stockings. Wool is very appropriate for riding.
Khay leans down to take my hand and pulls it up as he straightens. “Come on. There’s one bit of business Magnar needs to get done, and then we’re off. Hope you had a good breakfast while you were changing, because we’re not stopping until noon, at least.”
I had three bites of pastry, after which my stomach rebelled. I don’tsay it out loud, too busy running to keep up with Khay’s long steps.
He leads me out into the inner courtyard that’s filled with Agnidari men. I take a shaky breath, seeing how many there are. Those I saw yesterday in the throne room were just a fraction of Magnar’s army, and there are hundreds of warriors standing in the remnants of grass trodden into bloody mud.
They part when they see me, creating a narrow corridor leading to the cobbled center of the courtyard, where Magnar stands. An Agnidari warrior kneels at his feet with his hands tied behind his back.
“There is always one,” Khay says with a sigh.
I straighten and step into the passage. It’s dark, the tall forms of the Agnidari casting shadows on me. It feels a bit like walking through a thick grove of young trees. They are silent, and I feel unpleasantly aware of my every step and breath.
“Thank you for joining us, my queen,” Magnar says with a small bow.
His hair is braided today, a few wisps of white framing his face. I remember with a jolt how Khay called him beautiful. In the fresh light of morning, wearing leathers free of blood and clean boots, he is, indeed—not disgusting.
When he smiles, seeing the way I study him, I don’t flinch away from the teeth peeking from between lush, dark blue lips. I still hate them. I just promised myself not to show my fear today.
Magnar looks at the crowd of his warriors gathered in front of him. His face grows sharp, eyes cold as he unsheathes his sword with a slick, metallic sound.
“Our brother in arms, Ghisan, disobeyed my order and raped a Farneerian after I forbade it. He will be punished.”
My eyes widen in fear as the sun glints along the deadly edge of Magnar’s sword. Is he going to…? I try to move back, realizing how close I stand, only five human-sized steps between me and the kneeling warrior. Khay tugs me closer and Magnar turns to me, his voice quiet but cutting.
“He disobeyed the order I issued to pleaseyou, my queen. Have the guts to face the consequences.”
Khay chuckles under his breath. “Guts. That’s a good one.”
I trap my plea to the gods behind clenched teeth and look down at the blue-haired Agnidari warrior. He seems young, but as he sneers up at Magnar, I see he lacks one of his front teeth.
“You promised us females!” the bound man spits, puffing up his bare chest. “You’re a weakling who can’t keep his word. Not my king!”
There are murmurs in the crowd behind us, quiet and restrained. Magnar cocks his head to the side, his eyes cold and thoughtful, manner calm. I am grudgingly impressed. A man who doesn’t rage when his authority is challenged is a rare sight.
“I promised you females during the war,” he says, his confident voice carrying. “I kept my word. But the war is over. We won. I gave you victory, I gave you peace, and I will not let a horny cunt like you jeopardize this victory just because you like it too much when your women cry. Say your prayers, Ghisan.”
Ghisan spits on the cobbles at Magnar’s feet with hate, his muscular chest heaving with rapid breaths, skin shining with sweat. Magnar rolls his shoulders, and with movements so fast, they almost blur before my eyes, he swings the sword and cuts up.
For a moment, everything is still. In the silence, a bird trills in a nearby tree.
