Page 34 of Prize for the King
I nod, returning his smile. It comes easy when I remember that he protected me, killing people who shot at us. My father’s teachings come in handy, helping me accept it.
“Sometimes, there is no noble solution, my prize. It’s either us or them, and if we want to survive, they must perish. This is what war is about, and it’s ugly, but also necessary.”
When we set out, Raduna’s body tightly pressed onto me as we rock together in the saddle, I try to understand why we were attacked in the first place. “Who were those people?”
“Patriotic bandits,” Raduna says with a weary sigh. “They are the worst kind. Average bandits have a healthy survival instinct. They’d never attack a large troop of Agnidari like this. But patriotic humans get stupid when they see us. All they can think of is the glory and applause they might get if they slaughter an Agnidari.”
“Bandits?” I ask, shaking my head. “How cancriminalsbe patriots? Don’t they rob people?”
“You are right, of course,” Raduna agrees. “It would be far more patriotic if they picked up honest work and paid their taxes. That would be logical. However, people often forget logic when making life-altering choices, such as the one between letting a few dozen heavily armed Agnidari pass undisturbed or attacking them in the woods. Most kings in the Eleven promote this sort of reckless patriotism. They spread tales about how vile we are, which makes people think attacking us is heroic.”
“When actually, it’s just plain stupid,” I mutter, thinking about how fast the Agnidari dealt with the bandits. The moment stretched, but in reality, only a few minutes passed between the first shot and Raduna emerging from the greenery with his morbid fealty.
“And Magnar fights, too?” I ask, remembering what my father said when the Agnidari invasion started.
“Don’t worry, my prize. I am not as selfish as that barbarian Tyrant, who fights with his soldiers instead of taking care of his kingdom and family. I will never leave your side.”
I remember wishing he’d go into battle just so I had a few days of peace.
Bad daughter.
“Of course he fights,” Raduna says with a gentle scoff. “A king who orders his soldiers into battle yet stays back in the safety of his castle is weak. Every order Magnar gives he’s ready to carry out himself. That’s why we love and respect him, and also why he alwayswins. His commands are well thought-out, his strategies designed to sacrifice as few of his people as possible. He is a superb leader.”
Another memory unfolds in my mind, my father pacing around his map table while I read quietly in the gallery, hidden among the stacks and shamelessly eavesdropping.
A minister reports a troop of our soldiers was wiped out by the Agnidari, and my father sneers.
“What, those peasant boys? They never stood a chance with just two weeks of training. I need to know how much they slowed down the Tyrant. That’s all that matters.”
“By half a day, Your Grace.”
“Tsk. Useless lot.”
I knew better than to ask my father about it back then. He never liked it when I heard more than I should have, and he hated feeling judged. If I asked about his decisions too much, he’d get very angry, and his rage was usually served in the form of cold, merciless words.
“I thought you were smarter than this, but as always, you’re letting your foolish female emotions get ahead of your brain. Don’t you know everything I do is for your good? You’d be lost without me, little girl. No one else will ever want and cherish you like me. No one will prize you above all else. Better get down to your knees and apologize to your father, or I’ll be forced to paddle your bottom. Go on.”
I cringe, clutching the pommel harder until my fingers grow numb. Thisisn’twhat I want to remember. All the memory does is bring back that treacherous feeling ofreliefthat he’s gone. I should be crying and grieving.
“What’s wrong, my queen?” Raduna asks, his voice soft.
I gasp and close my eyes, wishing for the endless well of guilt to be gone from my chest. It suffocates me.
Gods, I wish I could simply forget my father and everything he did. I wish he’d died instead of my mother all those years ago.
I am such a horrible person.
“I’m just overwhelmed,” I say when I’m certain my voice won’t crack. “Thank you for worrying about me.”
We ride in silence for a while, the forest left behind, rolling fields and meadows stretching ahead. I know we’re getting close to the border with Serilla. We’ll probably have to cross the river soon.
“My queen,” Raduna says after a while, his voice low and thoughtful. “I know this is new to you, and you will need time to adjust. Take that time, as much as you need. But I’d like you to do me a favor and consider something today.
“I am your knight. My life is yours. I am sworn to protect and serve you in every matter, and believe me when I say this, I find great pleasure and fulfillment in serving my queen. Every sorrow of your heart is my sorrow, and it would be my greatest privilege to lessen your burden. Will you please think about it?”
A horrible, ridiculous urge to cry gathers in my chest. My father’s words echo again.
“No one will cherish you like me.”
