Page 113 of The Barbarian King's Assassin (Magic and Kings 1)
“Only because she refused to be my wife.”
“And if she said yes?” Majya asked.
He stroked my cheek with a thumb. “Marry me, Ilyana.”
An assassin and a king wouldn’t have worked. But what of an assassin zariina?
“Are you sure you want me? Majya is oldest and the true heir.”
“And? I don’t want Jaaman. Just you.”
How could I say no?
Apparently saying yes meant getting married right away, because there was worry the Barbarian King might change his mind and choose to lay waste to the city with his horde of savages.
Letting my sister organize the wedding for later that same day meant we’d be out of the palace soon, which suited me. I didn’t belong here despite who my father turned out to be.
Everyone buzzed with the news about the emperor’s newly discovered daughter. Without an emperor or the grand vizier, the troops didn’t know who to obey. So I made it easy for them. At our wedding supper, where the nobles quickly adjusted to the fact there were currently two heirs eligible for the throne, I stood and made an announcement.
“I renounce the throne to my sister, Majya. Let it be known, from today forward, that my husband, King of Weztroga, and I pledge alliance with the Jaamanian empire, which will flourish I’m sure under the kind, but firm guiding hand of my sister, the true heir and eldest child of our recently departed emperor.” I managed a half-dip while my shocked sister gaped.
When my husband growled, “All hail the new emperor,” everyone rushed to shout their obedience.
Except for one lord who spat, “I won’t be led by a woman.”
Jrijori’s dagger in his throat stopped that dissension before it began.
Within the hour, we held the ceremony crowning my sister, the first female emperor to rule without a husband. The celebrating proved wild. Or so I heard later.
Konstantin and I snuck out that same night. We rode together far enough away that we could be alone. Finally.
I tackled him out of his saddle. Or tried to. Idiot caught me. But once he understood what I wanted he proved amenable to showing me how we could enjoy ourselves in the saddle while still making our way home.
It was good but not enough. He spread his cloak under a tree, and then, under the stars seen through the spreading, leafy boughs, he explored every inch of me. Kissed and stroked me until I sighed in pleasure then screamed in delight when he took me hard, his thrusts filling me until I climaxed so thoroughly I died a little.
As I lay in his arms after, sated and happy, I found myself murmuring, “I love you.”
He stilled.
“This is the part where you say it back,” I grumbled, suddenly feeling awkward.
“As if there was ever any doubt. You know I love you. I’m just scared I’m dreaming and I’ll wake up to you being gone again. I missed you. I don’t ever want to be that terrified again.” He stroked my cheek, would have kissed me if not for the drawled, “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. You’re both real, and ain’t no one interrupting your wedding night. Promise.”
“Joor, you idiot. Go away!” my barbarian bellowed.
“Just ignore me. I ain’t looking or listening. At you. But I swear I’m guarding you.”
“Joor.” A low growl of annoyance.
Whereas I, the cold assassin, giggled. At least I’d gotten my climax before Joor revealed his presence. It’s the only reason he lived.
EPILOGUE
It turnedout we should have put my sister in charge ages ago. Unlike the emperor and the grand vizier, she had no interest in war. And the people? They were willing to give peace a try, which led to grumbling among the Weztrogians about ruining their fun. But not for long once they heard about the frost trolls threatening the pastures to the north of our kingdom.
Our kingdom. As in me and Konstantin because apparently being married meant we shared everything. The throne. His land. His people.
The only thing we didn’t share? Each other. We both had a jealous streak with nothing to worry about because we only had eyes for each other.