Page 56 of Dancing With Demons
Even if I survive the King’s wrath, I might yet be singed by hers.
My speech is for Piper as much as the crowd around us.
“Those of you who know me well, know that I do not make mistakes. I am meticulous, well-studied, and ruthless in my pursuit of perfection.”
“I’m a little confused as to where this is going,” Lamian scoffs. “Get to the part where your meticulous, well-studied, ruthless cock knocked up my fucking mate.”
“I fell in love with her.” My voice is not so smooth now. It cracks, uncertain. This is no lecture to acolytes. I am no expert here. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to. But I- she…”
Piper’s eyes widen, and a rush of whispers echo in the courtyard.
I speak quickly, afraid the Hooded One will strike me dead at any moment. These are likely the last words that will escape my lips, and I need her to hear them. No matter how furious she is at me. I need her to know the depth of my love.
“She has powerful magic and a wild heart. She takes what she deserves and she fights for what is hers. What she loves. The life she had on Protheka would have broken anyone else, and yet she stands here, proud as a regent. She should have had nothing, and she is worthy of a Prince. How could I not love her?”
Piper’s expression softens as the Prince’s hardens.
The Prince makes a face. “Has anyone else fallen irrevocably in love with my woman?”
“I also, ah.” Eth’tak clears his throat, looking sheepish. “It could be either of ours, really.
“I love her, too.”
He looks at Piper, eyes warm. His words are short, but his confession is true. I can tell he means it with every fiber of his being.
Piper scowls at her feet, arms crossed over her chest.
I’d hoped my words would soften her heart, but our betrayal has been deep. I’m about to speak once more, but the Hooded One speaks again.
“You are well within your rights to challenge them for her hand,” the Hooded One says, deceptively lazy in his offer.
He’s granted his son the right to slaughter us where we stand.
I shut my eyes. Didn’t I know it would come to this when I first spoke?
But instead of charging at me, Lamian heaves a sigh. “Challenge them? For what? Their filthy broodmare? For all I know, she was fucking the palace zonaks, too. It’ll be a miracle if her whelpling doesn’t come out with five horns.”
I want to kill him for impugning her honor, but he makes no move to fight for her at all. The guards lower their weapons, and the air grows easy once again.
Is that all?
Eth’tak and I stare at each other in disbelief. Surely a bolt of lightning will escape the sky at any moment and roast us where we stand. It appears as though the King considers it, but then his hooded figure relaxes.
“Very well.” The Hooded One nods. “If that is your choice, then so be it. I will uphold your will.”
The ground beneath our feet calms, and the storm retreats. Either he’s decided to spare us, or to kill us without his son’s assistance. I rock on the balls of my feet, prepared to fight.
“It has been decided that this human belongs to Tolmond and Eth’tak. Unless there are any further objections?”
Prince Lamian looks like he might complain some more, but he glances at his father and shuts his mouth instead. The Prince might be spoiled, and a favored son of the King, but even he knows when to push his luck.
“Then we shall return to the palace. Guards?”
Footsteps thunder in unison, and the guards flank the King. The Prince’s guards follow, and the servants follow ten paces behind. A few of the matrons linger, eager for gossip, but we are all too stunned to provide anything for them to chew on. They leave, scoffing as they go.
Soon the elaborate procession has left, and the last matron has ventured inside for refreshments. I risk a glance up, and then immediately shake myself. The sky is clearer than I’ve ever seen it. I’ve never seen it without some sort of storm brewing above.
It’s almost as though the Hooded One is… relieved by the turn of events. Content. The weather is intrinsically linked to his mood. But how can that be? How can he possibly be pleased to be defied in such a public manner?