For King and Corruption, page 4
“Distracted, are we?” Quinn finished her stretches and moved over to the window. Before she could peek over her sister’s shoulder, Risk quickly got up—shoving Quinn back a bit as she circled around her. Eyes wide with surprise, Quinn’s gaze glanced to the courtyard, but whatever had been there before was gone now. Turning back and eyeing Risk speculatively, she said, “What was that?”
“What was that?” Risk asked as she found the water bowl on one of the ornate dressers across the room and washed the blood off her hand.
“You know what,” Quinn said.
Risk merely cast a look at her that she’d gotten quite used to. It meant she wouldn’t be getting anything out of the girl unless she wanted to use force, and Quinn was still treating her with kid gloves, so the only thing left to do was drop the issue.
Shaking her head, Quinn headed for the door. “I’ll be back later,” she called over her shoulder. Risk merely grunted a reply as the door closed behind her.
It wasn’t far from Quinn’s chambers to an open archway that looked out past the center gardens, and Quinn found that easily enough, stopping a servant scuttling by with arms piled high with freshly laundered sheets. “Where is Lorraine?” she demanded.
The servant, a wide-eyed young woman, jerked her gaze down and mumbled her response before hurrying away, but she didn’t care. She’d gotten her answer. The east wing library. Though Quinn had never been to the palace before, she found the east wing rather easily. A little while later, and a few more stopped servants, she managed to find the library as well.
Lorraine stood atop a rickety-looking ladder, leaning heavily on the shelves before her as she wiped down the edges and then retrieved a book from one of the stacks. Quinn paused with a small smile and crossed her arms and ankles as she leaned against the doorframe, watching the other woman work.
“Have you been demoted to librarian in my absence?” she asked after a little while.
Lorraine jumped, teetering dangerously on the ladder before she caught herself with one hand on the shelves and the other curling around one of the rungs of the ladder. The book that had been in her hands fell the ten feet or so to the ground, smacking the hard, wooden floor with a loud thump, a musky plume of dust rising from between its pages.
“Quinn!” Lorraine looked back in surprise and hastily descended to the ground. “Where have you been, you ridiculous girl?” The moment the older woman’s feet touched solid floor, Quinn uncrossed her ankles and arms and stood up straight, blinking in shock as Lorraine hurled herself at Quinn and hugged her to her bosom.
“Er . . . Lorraine?”
Lorraine released her and clicked her tongue as she brushed spots of the desert dust from her skin from where her water bowl wash hadn’t been able to reach. “You’re filthy,” she said with a frown. “Where have you been? You were gone for so long.”
When Lorraine turned her worried eyes to Quinn’s face. Quinn let her shoulders lift in a shrug. “Here and there. I had some business to take care of. I traveled to Jibreal and Bangratas on Lazarus’ behalf.” Extracting herself from the woman’s arms, Quinn moved across the room and bent to retrieve the fallen book.
“Hmmmm,” Lorraine hummed. “And was Lazarus aware of the business you were conducting on his behalf?” she asked with a raised brow.
Quinn grinned over her shoulder. “He’s aware of it now.”
Clicking her tongue once more, Lorraine shook her head. “You’re going to drive that man to the brink.”
Quinn knew she’d already done so, time and time again. She smiled thoughtfully to herself because she knew there would come many more times where she did so again, but she didn’t voice those thoughts as Lorraine came and took the book from her hands, cupping her cheek in a motherly fashion that had Quinn stepping back in discomfort.
“You’re back now—to stay, no less—and that’s what matters,” she said with a decisive head nod.
Quinn moved past her, finding one of the library loungers. She dropped to sit on it and reclined with her hands steepled behind her head and legs kicked up on the low table before the settee. “It was a long trip,” Quinn admitted with a half-yawn. “I’m glad to finally be off the road.”
“Yes . . .” Lorraine drifted off as she fingered the edges of the book in her grasp. “And . . . I assume your sister has rejoined you here?”
Quinn peeked her eyes open, shocked to realize that she’d gotten so comfortable that they’d closed all on their own. “Rejoined?” she parroted. “No, Risk was with me the entire trip.”
“She was?” Soft footsteps sounded and Quinn lifted her eyelids all the way to see Lorraine circling the lounger across from where she sat and dropping down upon it to lean forward. “How is she, then?”
Quinn blinked at the concern in the woman’s voice, but then reminded herself that Lorraine was a mother, and that was as much a part of her identity as anything else. The need to nurture and care was ingrained in her. Sighing, Quinn unlaced her fingers and sat up.
“We left Liph the night before the rest of you,” Quinn said, “and from there, we traveled to Vusut in Jibreal. The road was hard, especially that first month. Risk . . .” Quinn drifted off as she recalled the exhaustion that had pulled both her and her sister down so much so that they had drooped and fallen asleep mid-ride far too many times to count. Risk’s nightmares had been intense, and because they’d been so close, Quinn hadn’t been able to help being pulled into them. “She’s a lot better now,” Quinn finally said.
“The dear girl . . .” Lorraine whispered, worrying her lip.
Quinn snorted. “You may not call her that now,” she replied. “Five months of freedom, food, and training have given her a new personality.”
“It has?”
“Well, perhaps not a new personality so much as it has given her true personality time to flourish,” Quinn amended. “She’s a wild one. The animals that followed her around . . . some nights, I had to beat off the creatures just to get some decent sleep only to wake the next morning to find a mountain cat protecting her like its kit. They can’t help themselves. They’re drawn to her.”
“She’s a beast tamer?” Lorraine asked, curious.
“She is.” Quinn nodded. “She’s more at home in the wilderness than she is in the palace.”
“I’m sure she is,” Lorraine agreed. “Palace life can be stifling to those not used to it. It’s confining.”
“Yes . . . I don’t suppose you’d know a beast tamer that lives within the city, would you?” Quinn asked.
Lorraine blinked and sat up straighter. “No, I don’t recall ever meeting one myself. Draeven or Lazarus might know of something, though.”
Quinn nodded. She supposed they would. Silence fell between them. Lorraine caught Quinn’s expression just before Quinn shoved to her feet and circled the lounge away from the other woman.
“Quinn?” Lorraine’s curious voice sounded across the room, and Quinn stiffened for a brief moment before forcing her muscles to relax. “What is it?”
Quinn ran her pale fingers down the spines of books, dust coating her skin as she did so. It was so very hard to ask something like this. Perhaps it wouldn’t be to someone else, but for Quinn . . . Risk was her responsibility. It felt wrong to ask for assistance, but Quinn could not be with the girl all hours of the day and night. Now that she’d returned, she doubted very much that she’d have the time necessary to help Risk. She’d come a long way in the five months they’d been gone, but she still had an even longer path ahead.
“I have a favor to ask of you,” Quinn said softly.
“What is it?” Lorraine’s voice had grown closer since she’d turned her back. Quinn knew the woman had stood up from her place and was likely following Quinn as she circled the room—needing something to look at, to touch, to keep her mind busy as she asked for the other woman’s aid.
“Risk is still wary of people. She cannot stand to be touched, and now that I’ve returned, I expect Lazarus will have plans for me. I cannot be with her all the time, not as I had been while on the road. She’s unwilling to leave my chambers as of yet, and I worry—”
A hand closed over Quinn’s wrist as she reached out to pluck a book from its shelf. Looking down at Lorraine’s understanding eyes, Quinn shifted uncomfortably and tugged her limb free, letting it fall back to her side. “Yes,” she said.
“Yes?” Quinn repeated.
“I will watch after the girl in your stead.”
“I only wanted to ensure that she was fed. She will not take food from anyone but me, she says, but she has met you, and I thought, perhaps—”
Lorraine shook her head, cutting Quinn off once more. “There is no reason to worry. You can trust me, Quinn.”
“She needs to eat,” Quinn continued. “She has training, and her body requires that she continue to eat in order for her to keep gaining muscle—”
“You don’t need to explain it to me, dear,” Lorraine said with an amused smile.
Quinn let out a tight breath, and her muscles uncoiled. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Quinn waited a bit, but when Lorraine merely smiled at her, she decided she had best get to finding the man of the palace. “I should go look for Lazarus,” she said by way of explanation as she headed for the door.
“He’s probably in the throne room at this time of day,” Lorraine called after her.
Quinn lifted her hand behind her in goodbye as she left. Stepping into the corridor, she shook off the strange feeling assaulting her. Trust, Lorraine had said. She could trust her. It was not something Quinn was used to. Giving, or receiving.
Shaking that away, she made her way to the throne room. Guards stood on either side of the doors, and as she approached, twin spears blocked her path. Pausing, Quinn took in the sharpened spears for a moment before looking to the guards faces. When their eyes met, the men had the sense to keep their faces forward as the one on the left spoke.
“Do you have a scheduled meeting with the King?” he asked in a gruff voice.
Quinn looked from him to his partner, who swallowed around a nervous throat. With a chuckle, Quinn reached forward and grabbed onto either end of the spears and lifted them without much strength. When the guards realized that she meant to bypass them without answering, they turned on their heels and—fell to the ground in a heap as whispers of darkness touched them.
Rolling her eyes, she stepped over their shivering bodies and shoved the throne room doors open. When she had passed through the archway, she released the guards from her powers and they blinked, glancing up as she waved and shut the doors in their faces.
“Quinn.” Lazarus’ deep voice echoed across the large elegant room.
“Your Grace,” Quinn said, stopping to bow slightly when she saw another lord stood before Lazarus. Had they been alone, she wouldn’t have pretended such etiquette.
The doors behind her opened, and Lazarus jerked his gaze up, narrowing his eyes as the guards paused just outside, likely intent on retrieving Quinn. “You may leave,” Lazarus rumbled, and Quinn grinned when she heard the doors slide shut once more before standing and walking the rest of the way.
Draeven stood to his left, hands folding at his front. “Lord Sunshine,” Quinn nodded as the man rolled his eyes. She took her spot along Lazarus’ right side with all eyes following her movements. Lazarus didn’t ask why she’d arrived. He merely returned his attention to the man before him, a rather tall fellow with a thick, full auburn beard and glittering brown eyes.
“I apologize for the disruption, Lord Callis. You were saying?”
“Please, Your Grace,” the other man held up his hand with a wide smile. Gold rings glittered from each of his fingers. “There are no apologies necessary. I trust this is your vassal from last night? Quinn Darkova?”
“I am,” Quinn answered.
“My, it is a wonder why the King has been hiding you away. Your beauty is beyond anything I have ever beheld.” He bowed slightly.
Quinn pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything more. And she wouldn’t have had she not noticed Lazarus’ furious expression. Of course, by the time Lord Callis raised his head, Lazarus had hidden the ire in his gaze. But Quinn had seen it, and it left her feeling rather curious.
“You flatter me, my lord,” Quinn replied, drawing all of their attentions—even Draeven, who looked at her as though she’d grown a new head.
“No flattery necessary. Merely the truth.”
Quinn hummed her reply as Lazarus growled low beneath his breath, so quietly she was sure only she and Draeven had managed to hear it. Lord Callis returned his consideration to Lazarus and bowed low once more.
“I came to you today to propose a hunt for the court. I thought perhaps it would be the perfect time for us to discuss our mutual interests in the kingdom.”
“A hunt?” Quinn tilted her head to the side, curiosity catching her tongue. “What is that?”
Lord Callis smiled at her indulgently, thinking her a rather dull-witted woman despite her appearance—both the night before and now, as she stood before him in her leathers. It no longer surprised her how some men tricked themselves into thinking they were the more intelligent sex, ignoring even what their own eyes warned them was dangerous.
“It’s a sport where the men of court ride out at dawn and often spend a full day or two hunting wild game to bring back,” the lord explained patiently.
“A sign of your prowess, no doubt,” Quinn nodded, hiding the grin that threatened to come forth as Lazarus’ scowl deepened. “It sounds exciting.” It sounded like the perfect opportunity for Quinn to get Lazarus alone outside of the palace. The perfect moment in which she could ask him about finding a beast tamer for Risk. She turned to Lazarus and eyed him innocently. “I trust you’ll agree, Your Grace? I would love to see such a hunt.”
Lazarus gritted his teeth before replying. “A hunt is acceptable,” he said to Lord Callis. “However, a hunt is comprised of men. Therefore—”
“We should invite your vassal, Your Grace,” Lord Callis interrupted. “If only to show her your own prowess.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Quinn said with a smirk. “Thank you, Lord Callis. I accept your offer.”
Lord Callis, oblivious to Lazarus’ rising anger, smiled and nodded. “I shall have to make the arrangements. Shall we say, tomorrow at dawn?”
“Tomorrow at dawn,” Quinn agreed with a smile, watching as the man nodded, bowed, and then left the room.
As soon as the doors were closed behind him and they were left alone, Draeven sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Lazarus was out of his seat before Quinn could take a step down. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
Quinn looked up at him, working to keep her face passive. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Whatever game you are playing, Quinn, I’ll not have it.”
“Were you not going to agree to a hunt?” she asked.
Draeven stepped forward and clasped Lazarus’ shoulder. “Perhaps you should take a moment, Lazarus,” he suggested. “You’ve been listening to the Lords of the Court all morning.”
Lazarus growled, the sound vibrating up her chest as she met his intense gaze. He looked like he wanted to both strangle her and fuck her at the same moment. Quinn quirked a brow and waited, but he merely pivoted and stormed away.
Draeven sighed. “You do so love to irk him,” he said, glancing back at her.
“No,” Quinn replied. “I simply love to remind him that he isn’t as all powerful as he likes to believe.”
“That is a dangerous endeavor,” he reminded her.
“I’m well aware,” she replied. It was a fact she so enjoyed about him. She doubted anyone else could handle her penchant for peril. The hunt, however, was a means to an end, but she’d let them think it was merely another of her whims, one of her many ways to drive the dark soul eater past his breaking point.
He had never reached it, but she so desired to see it. Craved to see just what he would do when she drove him over the edge and not just to the sharply pointed tipping point.
A King, A Tyrant
“Power lies in small things. A kiss or a blade—both can kill.”
— Lazarus Fierté, soul eater, the irritable King of Norcasta
* * *
The scent of fresh hay and horse dung permeated the air as Lazarus strode into the manger. Stable hands hurried out of his way as he stormed down the aisle, looking for—he stopped just outside the end stall, narrowing his sights on the woman he had come for. She stood with her back to him, her long lavender hair pulled into a braid that hung almost to her mid-back. It had grown these last five months. Dark trousers molded themselves to her hips, drawing his unwilling eyes.
“You should return to your chambers. You won’t be needed this morning,” he said.
Quinn didn’t even start. She merely continued to brush the hay from her horse’s hair. It seemed in the months since they’d been apart, the beast had calmed somewhat at her presence. Or perhaps, it realized that there was no use in fighting her. She was far more powerful than the creature ever could be.
As if sensing his thoughts, Quinn turned and set the brush aside, reaching for a treat that she handed the horse, letting it eat from her palm. “Risk taught me a lot while I was away,” she said quietly. “At first, I thought I was the teacher—training her, helping her learn how to survive, be independent. But she has a way with animals, and she showed me how to approach them.”
Lazarus shook his head. He did not care for her knowledge of animals. He was here for a very specific reason, and that was to ensure she did not disrupt his meeting with Lord Callis again. “Did you hear me?” he demanded, his voice a low growl.
