Page 26 of Savage Is My Kingdom

“I know.I don’t need you to remind me.” I snapped, then squeezed my eyes shut. “Sorry. I know.” I repeated, softer this time. “But that was an accident.”

“Accident or no, the king is out a hundred guards.” She draped the dress over her arm. “And if there’s one thing I know about the rich, they don’t waste resources. There will be a price for what you did.”

Of that, I had no doubt.

But I didn’t see the point of going to all that trouble over me. Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe the king—and Solok—had the wrong person.

“This is a big city, Em. An even bigger country. We’re nothing here. Just two worthless slave girls,” I whispered, repeating Solok’s careless words from days ago. “In time they’ll forget we even exist, and that’s when we can be free.”

12

ANARIA

Iheld my ground while the Fae King studied me from his high throne, my mind going blank as his ice-cold gaze skated over me, searching his face for any indication I was about to die.

He wasn’t bloodthirsty or vengeful.

He seemed…bored.

As if this meeting meant nothing, as if I wasn’t dressed in a gown that would feed a Varitus Descendant family for a full year. As if everyone at Ravenshade Castle hadn’t been slaughtered. As if a hot river of sweat wasn’t running down my spine and I might collapse to my knees at any moment.

He crooked a finger and a thin Fae male leaned in, never taking his ravening eyes off me as the king whispered something in his pointed ear.

I remembered the last time someone had whispered something about me, and a full patrol of guards had ended up dead. But I had the collar and everyone was safe.

I wasn’t sure I liked that idea.

Part of me yearned to access that power…even though I couldn’t control it.

While the king considered me—us, since Ember was trembling at my side—I ran through everything I knew about him, which was not a lot. Carex Centaria had been High King of Caladrius for over a thousand years. He’d erected the ward between our two realms, seven hundred years ago.

His rule was astonishingly long and I wondered if he’d banished all the Fae undesirables to Varitus, or was that his father before him?

Then there were the things the books had left out. The ruined lands. The dead forests. Whatever had happened to the Caladrian Fae to turn them into sharp-toothed monsters, hungry for flesh.

His court observed from a balcony overhead, with a breathless silence that made me want to vomit. I swallowed the sourness down, not wanting to sully the pristine surface glowing beneath my jeweled slippers.

The floors were white marble, smoother than a newborn’s skin, the high ceiling sparkled with a constellation of a thousand faelights. The king was framed by an open archway thirty feet high that revealed the stark mountain range separating Caladrius from The Pale, a desolate no man’s land. His enormous thronewascarved from white moonstone, like the floor, the diamonds set into the design flashed rainbows of color whenever I shifted position.

The high sun cast the king and his crowd of advisors into silhouette, little more than dark outlines against the snowcapped mountains.

The king was still handsome, appearing like a male in his mid-thirties, not a millennium-old Fae. His white hair was gathered in a series of silver bands, his ears topped with silver points, the tops sparkling with polished, black diamonds. Both hands were gloved, each finger tipped with a matching diamond, sharp enough to cut like razors.

I sweated like a pig, heart thundering loudly while his dark gaze devoured me. The king’s power pounded in my ears, turned my blood to vapor, my legs to jelly.

Wave after wave beat against my chest, stole the air from my lungs until I could barely stay upright.

This was real power.

Carex’s magic rivaled the portals thunderous power. Vast and ancient, crackling with lightning and ether. Swaying, I closed my eyes and allowed it to consume me, to eat me alive with glorious, earth-shattering bites.

“What is your name?”

The question—so simple and so expected—caught me completely by surprise.

“Anaria.” I knew better than to fidget, one hand clasped around my wrist, squeezing tight enough to hurt, as if pain would anchor me to this place, to this moment. Above us, the crowd stirred, whispers echoing off the walls until the king held up a hand and silence fell once more.

His mouth quirked up. “Of course, it is.” His gaze lifted to whoever approached. “An amusing choice. Your decision, I suppose?” Solok chuckled softly behind me.

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