Our Vicious Oaths, page 46
“It seems I am the one who has broken you,” she spat down at her former betrothed. “You should’ve chosen a different female to try to chain to you as your wife.”
She then yanked her eyes upward at the movement she sensed, raising her aether sword to strike out at a new enemy. Hundreds of surrounding soldiers—Hyperions—all gazed at Kadeesha with a mix of terror and malice. She readied her flames. Leisha and Samira, who’d been engaged in their own fights nearby while she fought Rishaud, now appeared at her side.
“You dare defy your queen!” Kadeesha screamed.
In response … they said nothing. Because a storm of shadows slammed into the enemy soldiers, answering for them and not allowing them the chance to attack—or retreat. The shadows were like a black tidal wave that swallowed everything in their path. When the deluge cleared, corpses littered the ground. When Malachi turned to her, his eyes were pools of darkness that bore into her. “I am uncertain if I love or loathe fighting beside you on a battlefield,” he growled. “If anything happened to you, I’d drown the world in shadows that would devour it and every living soul.”
Kadeesha blinked, taken aback by the sheer amount of malevolence that wafted off him. It was so potent that it was a physical thing that suffused the air, making it thick and icy and so suffocating that it stung her lungs.
She tilted her chin and told Malachi, “Those were my kills. Are you defying your queen? Because I am uncertain if I am flattered or downright insulted by your confession. I am a warrior too and can take care of myself in a fight very well.” She stabbed her sword toward the head that was half burned away. “As you can see.”
Abruptly, Malachi rumbled a laugh. On its heels, the malevolence coating her husband and clinging to the air became slightly less oppressive and Malachi’s eyes lightened from pitch black to their usual gold-flecked brown hue. That didn’t mean he was done being terrifying, however. He swept a dark look out over the bloody battlefield and saw what she saw. He’d killed hundreds of soldiers, but Rishaud’s army had been over a hundred thousand strong to begin with. Fighting still raged in every direction. The Hyperion king might be dead, but many didn’t know that yet. Scores hadn’t glimpsed his slaying or his decapitated body. Malachi grabbed her hand and sent a gale of shadows roiling over the battlefield. While the shadows couldn’t avoid touching Apollyon soldiers, it was only the fae clad in uniform colors of the Six Kingdoms that began shouting and wailing as if coming into contact with a flesh-eating poison.
“You promised—”
“Rest assured, my kindhearted wife. It will not kill them. Unless …”
His grin was feral, made even more so by the decadent grille fitted over his teeth, accentuating the sharpness of his canines, and she couldn’t dispute that it excited her. Standing among the battlefield, splattered with blood, clutching void scimitars in his hands, and cloaked in dominance, it’d never been more apparent that Malachi never was and never would be some fae king who belonged in a throne room swathed in court finery. He was a savage tide of death who belonged on a battlefield obliterating his enemies and ultimately commanding whomever he chose to spare to kneel before him. It made for a heady, breathtaking picture, one that Kadeesha had no doubt would be captured in some iconic mural in the future. As had been the dance between them from the very start, it was difficult not to fall into Malachi’s staggering draw. But they had exchanged promises and oaths, and what happened on the battlefield next would set the tone of their relationship and how they ruled together. Which was why she shook off Malachi’s spell and reminded him, “There’s a lot resting on that word, husband.”
Malachi’s broad, vicious grin stayed in place but the tenderness with which he gazed upon her tempered it. “Trust me, love, I intend to surpass the promises I made.” Before she could truly consider what he meant by that, Malachi shouted, “Your liege lord is dead!” His voice boomed out for miles, carried on the shadows. “Kadeesha Mercier of the Aether and Apollyon Courts, your new high queen, has killed him! Kneel before her and be spared!”
At once, hundreds of soldiers fell to their knees. Malachi tightened his grip on Kadeesha’s hand and raised it in the air. “Before this day is over, you will swear vows of fealty to your high queen to serve, guard, and protect her and the babe she carries for as long as you live, or you will perish as your former liege lord has perished.”
Fervent cries of submission and for mercy emanated from most of the Six Kingdoms armies. As for the ones who proved stubborn, which were primarily comprised of Hyperion soldiers, Zahzah and the other kongamatos flew from the palace and landed in the middle of the battlefield in their favored V formation with Zahzah at the point. The twelve war serpents roared, breathing fire into the air. They then angled their heads toward the battlefield. Leisha mounted her kongamato and screamed, “Kadeesha Mercier is now your high queen!” Leisha didn’t issue a verbal threat as Malachi had done, but she didn’t need to. All that needed to be impressed upon the soldiers was accomplished by the war serpents’ mere presence. The soldiers who were still standing knelt at once.
“Hail, my queen,” Malachi said to Kadeesha.
She rolled her eyes, even as she exalted in the feeling of power this display imbued her with.
Malachi looked exceedingly pleased—and smug—and she let him have his moment.
It wasn’t long before his Cadre and Auntie Nychelle found them. Malachi asked Nychelle, “Can you go after Trystin and deliver the news?” To his Cadre he said, “Search the palace and kill any trespassers you come across who slipped beyond the gate. They don’t get mercy if they’ve invaded my home.” Then, Malachi turned to Kadeesha and lifted her hand to his lips. He placed a kiss to her knuckles. “We have won, wife. We’ve formed the Seven Kingdoms.” His smoldering gaze turned positively wicked. It wasn’t the time nor the place, but it made her toes curl in her boots nonetheless. “How’s that for fulfilling promises?” he asked in a silky voice that curled around her. “I offered to lay the realm at your feet, but we’ll start with the continent. Consider it your wedding present, High Queen. And if you should ever desire the entire realm, consider it yours too.”
At first Kadeesha couldn’t produce words. They were beyond her. Eventually, she managed, “Your decree … You didn’t proclaim yourself as high king.” It was the first thing she would’ve thought he’d do. And yet, he still had not.
Malachi shrugged. “Obviously I am high king of our Seven Kingdoms. If anyone wishes to dispute that, they’ll find Rishaud’s brand of viciousness for those who displeased him was child’s play. For now, that bastard was your kill, and you are the one who gained the right of recognition today.
“What?” he asked, amused, when she stared at him flabbergasted, coherent words eluding her again.
“That is very un-self-serving of you,” she pointed out.
He chortled. Then grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close. He kissed her thoroughly and murmured against her lips, “I spoke many promises to you back in our bedroom, did I not? I intend to keep every last one of them. So, let this gesture be a grand display in case there was any doubt left or any doubt that ever creeps up.
“You. Are. Mine. Kadeesha.”
Her breath hitched as he kissed her again, fierce and strong and violent and loving—everything she’d come to know this male to be. And then he pulled away and looked deep into her eyes.
“And I am yours, my queen.”
Epilogue
KADEESHA FLEW ALONGSIDE HER NKITA AND THEIR kongamatos toward home. When the Aether Palace crested the horizon—a sprawling, glittering complex of white stone and violet columns—a torrent of emotions swept over her. She grieved the destruction and death that had been wrought when she was last home, all the people of her court she’d lost, and even her father. She grieved Rassa too. Her Nkita sister should’ve been flying home beside the rest of them. Instead, she’d been burned and relinquished to Nyaxia along with the rest of the dead from the battle.
“I’ve missed this place!” The cry of joy came from Leisha, who flew at her left. As the palace neared, its turrets became giants looming in the sky.
Leisha’s hoot was infectious. Kadeesha grinned despite the mountain of grief she’d forever carry with her. She mentally urged Zahzah to fly faster. To take her home.
After they settled the kongamatos in the aerie, they made their way to the great hall where Yashira had gathered all of the current courtiers who were in residence. Kadeesha’s heart squeezed when she walked inside and saw how little of the great noble houses and her own kinsfolk remained. There were so very few who hadn’t perished at her ceremony with Rishaud. The physical palace and lands might not have suffered devastation, but the massive loss of life left ruin behind all the same. Her jolt of joy earlier was tempered by that fact, and a somber mood resettled over her. Unlike the Apollyon Court, Aetherfolk didn’t hold opulent revelries to mark momentous occasions. Instead, they simply feasted, breaking bread among kin and friends in the great hall. Those who remained at court sat at tables sagging with food and wine. At the head table sat Yashira and three of their visitors—Malachi, Nychelle, and Trystin. At an adjacent table were Malachi’s Cadre, amid the vacant seats that Kadeesha’s Nkita would take up. When Kadeesha reached the empty seat at the head of the table with her mother and the Apollyon royals, she sat in it stiffly. It was an unsettling spot to occupy, as the last time she’d feasted here, her father had occupied the head chair. She’d also worn an elaborate gown then. Today, Kadeesha wore the garb she’d arrived back home in—her flying leathers and the diadem Malachi had crowned her with on their wedding night.
Seated directly to her right, Malachi was similarly dressed. He’d forgone wearing any finery for fighting leathers and his crown, “So as not to upstage her in her own court,” her arrogant husband had informed her. As if he could. But then she looked at him and a glimmer of platinum and diamonds stole her breath away, and she realized what a figure he cut, no matter what he wore.
Celestials, he was smoldering.
But that wasn’t of import in the moment. Their attire was. Yes, it was unconventional, but they’d agreed that was the point. It made the emphatic statement that their reign as high queen and high king of the Seven Kingdoms would be markedly different from Rishaud’s. Already the message was having an impact. All eyes had been glued to the two of them since Kadeesha had entered the room. Usually, an Aether Court dinner would be a chatty affair full of laughter and merriment. Today, hushed whispers and uncertain stares suffused the hall.
She stood and Malachi did the same. She hadn’t expected the nerves to crash into her like a typhoon. Before, when she’d petitioned her father endlessly to install her as his permanent heir, she’d had some worry that the Aether Court would need a little convincing to fully accept the idea of her—a woman—succeeding Sylas as their monarch in the event of either his unexpected demise or incapacitation. Now, the concern of how her folk would receive her was heightened for an entirely different reason. Formerly, she’d had no doubt that her folk would eventually heap adoration and praise upon her as the kingdom’s heir. However, with her return … she wasn’t the same female she was when she’d left her court. She’d been in the Apollyon Court, the enemy court, for so long. She’d married its king and was carrying his son in her womb. She’d gone to war against the unified Six Kingdoms, with some of Rishaud’s forces wearing the purple and black of Aether soldiers. She’d killed kongamatos, a grievous offense amongst Aether fae. Would her own folk look upon her as some villainous foe who now forced her unwanted rule upon them? Would they cry out in outrage? Revolt? Demand that another, one they considered to be more so one of them, be allowed to lead?
The questions left a bitter tang behind because even if they did desire that, what options did they have? Rishaud’s massacre during her wedding had wiped out the strongest among her own bloodline, not to mention the other noble families who wielded both the inner and magical strength to safeguard and protect the interests of the Aether Kingdom. Yet that truth didn’t lessen the knot of anxiety building in her stomach over being rejected by her own.
Malachi’s hand closed around hers. He laced their fingers together, squeezing her hand firmly. When she looked over at him, support and love and a silent vow to stand at her side no matter what blazed back at her. You left your court as its princess and you return as high queen; stand with both feet planted in the ascension you remarkably seized in your own way. Claim your mantle, wife. The ferocity of Malachi’s stare impressed each word upon her. She heard everything he didn’t say out loud with perfect clarity in his deep timbre in her mind.
She squeezed his hand back, drawing courage and reassurance from the male who was her husband and high king. Then, she turned back toward her folk and told them, “I know all of you have already heard the news that Rishaud, the former liege lord of the Six Kingdoms, has been slain. He is dead by my hand, and with his demise the Six Kingdoms are no more. A new dawn rises across Nimani, one that faekind hasn’t witnessed in many millennia. We stand in the age of the Seven Kingdoms. It is a fresh era that will see the southernfolk and Apollyonfolk shift course from being longtime enemies to being the unified people we once were at the very dawn of faekind’s existence. That we were always meant to be.
“This new era will see a high queen who is of the southern lands and a high king who is of the northern Apollyonfolk rule beside each other in pursuit of ushering in a golden age for all of faekind that will be abundant with prosperity, greater freedoms, and absent of the unprovoked tyranny that Rishaud ruled the Six Kingdoms with. The babe I carry,” she continued, pressing a hand to her belly, “will be the heir of the Seven Kingdoms as has been prophesied. And as a fae of equal parts Aether and Apollyon blood, the child of myself and Malachizrien Diamundis will stand as a symbol for faekind’s total unification and the golden age we know is our destiny.”
Although silence swathed the great hall when she finished the speech, Kadeesha could taste the many mixed emotions scenting the air. Hope. Reticence. Disbelief. Uneasiness. However, all of those she could work with. She let out a slow breath when she didn’t read disdain or outright aversion among the crowd. Her court’s focus had been on her during her speech, but as the silence lingered, stares began turning to Malachi. The uneasy energy Kadeesha had read before magnified as Aether fae looked upon the infamous Apollyon king. He was their high king now and they were rightfully nervous, given the bloody history between the Six Kingdoms and the Apollyon Court. Malachi cleared his throat. Kadeesha’s own nerves flared for a heartbeat before she remembered how charming and captivating Malachi could be when he bothered with such things. He’d made her a vow that this was the way they’d rule as co-monarchs, and, after everything they’d been through and professed to each other, she trusted him to keep it.
Malachi simply told the crowd, “I take up the mantle and crown of high king of the Seven Kingdoms, but I’ve also taken up the mantle of husband and partner to Kadeesha Mercier, the high queen of the Seven Kingdoms. My stunning wife is the visionary among the two of us. A prosperous golden age where all across a united Seven Kingdoms flourish is what she sees for the future of Nimani. In that aim, I am her servant, here to fulfill my high queen’s every desire. We are all aware that I am the king of a court that has long been engaged in hostilities with the former Six Kingdoms. But the Six Kingdoms are no more, and I intend to preside as high king over the Seven Kingdoms the same as I steered the Apollyon Court in the past. I am just and reasonable and generous unless those I care about are threatened, and that includes my wife, child, and the folks I bear the responsibility of ruling.”
The fae in attendance understood not just the threat, but the reason for it. Any new monarch who had just seized power would issue one, and it would have been seen as a weakness if Malachi hadn’t. It didn’t necessarily endear him to the gathered group, but it showed quite clearly that this was still a fae court, no matter what dreams Kadeesha tried to surround it with.
She might have been disappointed by that reality of their world, but she was fae too, and some aspects of fae politics would never change. Moreover, as far as Malachi went, he’d impressively delivered the words of caution to anyone who might develop designs of regicide with impeccable manners. She’d have to reward him for playing nice later.
The complete silence stretched on, although it wasn’t as tense as before Malachi spoke. Leisha stood and thudded her goblet twice against the wooden table. She raised her goblet in the air and cried, “To the golden age of the Seven Kingdoms and a high queen and king who will lead us into one!”
Samira stood next and echoed Leisha’s cry. The rest of the Nkita followed. So did Yashira and Nychelle and the Cadre—reminders that they were all part of the Seven Kingdoms now. Then, more and more of the gathered Aetherfolk began standing, knocking goblets against the tables, and repeating Leisha’s declaration. Eventually, everybody in the great hall was on their feet. Kadeesha looked upon her folk, grateful and honored and humbled that they hadn’t turned their backs on her. That they believed in her and supported her and stood behind her. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe that hauling hundreds of thousands of fae—who were obstinate and inclined to dislike abrupt change by nature—into a new age would be accomplished without extensive and prolonged work. There might even end up being a revolt or two that she and Malachi would have to deal with. But she knew in her heart this was the direction Nimani needed to go in. She and Malachi would be better monarchs than the continent had seen before. The faefolk who’d lived among the old Six Kingdoms would know what it was like to have sovereigns who displayed a true compassion for and commitment to serving the populace—something Apollyon rulers had long set as a precedent north of the Yunnas. Kadeesha wouldn’t leave room for anything else other than a golden age. After all, she was as obstinate as any other fae; she’d make it occur.
