North Queen (Crowns Book 1), page 40
“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you! Thank you!”
They bowed appreciatively, and Norah waited while they collected their things. They gave one last bow before they clambered onto their horses and spurred them off over the next hill. Norah smiled after them. Boys.
“We should return to the castle now,” Kiran called.
“Let’s wait a bit and then ride to the top of the next hill. I want to make sure they’re off.” She took a moment to drink water and rest. “I think we should make this a regular event,” she told Kiran. “I like it out here.”
“Thank you for the warning,” he said wryly.
She chuckled. “All right, let’s see if they’ve gone.”
They rode up the hill to check on the young men, but as she reached the top and looked down, her pulse quickened. A small group of soldiers had stopped them. Kharavian soldiers. And in the center, she saw the commander.
“This isn’t good, Salara,” Kiran said. “You should go back. You don’t want to be out here.”
But Norah wasn’t thinking about going back now. She urged the mare down the hill, with her guard following close behind her. She reached the bottom as the men were being pushed to their knees.
“Lord Commander!” she called out, breathless.
He stood by the young men and turned when he heard her. His eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he said darkly. “Return to the castle.”
“I won’t! What are you doing?”
“Your Majesty!” Ando called to her. “We told him you released us.”
“Ride on or watch them die,” the commander snarled at her.
The threat made Norah shudder. “No, these boys are returning home. I’m salara. You’ll release them!” she demanded.
A wicked smile came to his eyes. “Where the security of the kingdom is concerned, I act on behalf of Salar. You have no authority here.”
“They’re just boys!”
“They’re men. Not that it matters.”
Norah slid off her horse and stepped close to the commander so no one else could hear her. “If you’re angry at me, then let’s resolve that, just you and me. But I beg you, let them go.”
“I would never act in anger against Salar’s wife,” he said in a tone that chilled her more than any winter.
“Anything you ask,” she begged. “Please!”
He paused. “The Bear. Give him to me, and I’ll let them go.”
Bile rose in her throat. “You ask for what you know I can’t give.”
Before she could react, the commander ran Ando through with his sword, and the young man fell forward onto the ground.
“No!” Norah screamed as he turned and dropped another. She begged of Kiran, “Make him stop!”
The Crest guard gripped his sword handle but didn’t move. “We can’t do that, Salara.”
The commander cut down another man—so casually, so easily. Then he stepped toward the next. Norah clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling another scream, feeling completely helpless.
“Wait!” the man cried as the commander stepped toward him. “Wait! I’m the prince! Prince Jeord. If restitution is required, it can be paid! Just let us go. We’ll leave right now!”
The commander paused, and his eyes held a haunting smile. “Prince Jeord. I didn’t recognize you.” He leaned closer to the young man. “I have a message for your father. Restitution is required. Tell him to bring his army and pay in blood.”
Jeord gaped in horror. “You want war?”
The commander looked at Norah. “It’s been said I lust for it.”
Jeord stood, shakily backing away.
“Run along,” the commander said. The other two young men scrambled up with Jeord, but before they could run, the commander dropped them both with his sword.
Norah let out a short scream. This couldn’t be happening.
The commander eyed the prince, who stumbled back with a cry in his throat.
“Just you,” the commander said as he stooped down and wiped his sword on one of the dead men’s clothes. “Go.”
Jeord whimpered, backing away. Then he turned and ran, stumbling but catching himself again.
The commander watched him until he was out of sight. “Stake the bodies by the border,” he told the Crest. “Bring the horses.” Norah staggered back in shock, and the commander turned to her. “Let’s go.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” she seethed.
His eyes grew darker. “Get on your horse, or I’ll drag you back.”
She knew he meant it. Still shaking and filled with horror, she climbed back on the mare.
Mikael sat in his study, poring over the deeds of his lands. He looked for more to give his ex-wives, as Salara had asked of him. It surprised him she’d asked this, but then, she was always surprising him.
He knew it wasn’t easy for her in Kharav. Could she see how much he was trying? Soren was furious with him, and understandably so. There would be consequences with the lords, he knew. But he was willing to suffer the cost.
Footsteps echoed in the halls, and the door to his study slammed open against the wall.
“I hope you’re proud!” Salara seethed as she stormed in.
He rose from his desk in alarm. What was going on?
Her eyes blazed with a fire he hadn’t seen before, not even when she’d been upset about his wives.
“How better to show your strength than by killing boys!” she spat at him.
Mikael darted his eyes to Soren, who had walked in behind her.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Mikael asked.
“A group of boys crossed the border, and I sent them back,” she told him. “But they ran into your brute along the way, and he slaughtered them!”
“They weren’t boys,” Soren countered. “They were nearing twenty.”
“Boys!” she cried.
“Old enough to battle,” Soren argued. “And from Osan.”
She gave the commander an appalled look and shook her head in disgust. “What’s wrong with you? And what does it matter where they’re from?” She turned back to Mikael. “He does this in your name! The prince was with them, and your monster sent him back with a threat to his father—he openly invites war!”
Anger flared within him. She didn’t understand the ways of Kharav, and Soren was certainly ensuring her introduction to them was most unpleasant. He’d deal with him later. “Salara,” he tried to calm her. “You’ll come to understand we must do necessary evils to keep Kharav safe.”
She shook her head again. “No. Don’t pass this off as a necessary thing! Any competent man would’ve seen they weren’t a threat.”
He looked at Soren, who waited quietly, unfazed. Mikael gritted his teeth. Heat veined under his skin at his commander’s indifference to her upset. But she would need to understand that Kharav was a kingdom of war. He turned back to her. “We defend our borders most savagely. This is known to our enemies with certainty, and it’s this certainty that keeps us safe.”
Her face twisted. “That’s your answer? Safety?” She backed away from him as she shook her head in disgust. “Well then, enjoy your safety thinking of slaughtered boys!” She turned and stormed from the study.
Mikael pushed out a breath as he slowly rolled the parchments and wrapped the leather cord around them. His fury built from deep within, and it took every ounce of strength he had to control it. He waited until she was out of earshot before he cast a sharp eye at Soren. “Have you no sense?”
Soren’s brow hung darker. “You would have done the same,” he argued.
“Not in front of Salara! She thinks we thirst for violence.” The harming of innocents—it bothered her. Deeply. “She doesn’t understand our ways. She isn’t hardened to them.”
Soren sighed. “I let Jeord live. His father will see it as a mercy. They dare not bring war against us, and that piss prince will think before he crosses our border again.”
“You fail me.”
Soren shifted back. Mikael had never uttered those words to him before. “I told her to leave. What else was I to do?”
Mikael’s frustration grew. “You should have let them go. Her loathing is already upon me, and you push her further away!”
“Is it not better now than later, brother?”
Mikael slammed his fist on his desk. “I’m not your brother—I am salar!” he thundered. “And so help you if I lose her.”
Soren stepped backward, clearly taken aback by Mikael’s rage toward him. His eyes flashed with his own anger, but he bowed his head in submission, and Mikael pushed past him and out of the room.
Norah stood in the library. She stared at the books on the shelves, but she didn’t see them. She couldn’t stay here any longer; she couldn’t be here. Her heart longed for Mercia—its grace, its refinement, its civility. Kharav… Kharav was a kingdom of monsters.
She drew in a deep breath. With this marriage, she kept these monsters from Mercia, she reminded herself. But how much more could she bear?
Norah squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. She would endure as much as she had to.
The doors opened behind her, and she turned to see Mikael. She cursed herself for lingering too long.
“Salara,” he greeted as he neared. “I’m glad I found you here.”
Norah stepped around a large table, putting it between them. She wasn’t so glad. She didn’t reply.
“Talk to me,” he said.
Fine. “Would you have killed those boys?”
He paused. His hesitation answered for him. She knew he wanted to move her past it, but she couldn’t. These weren’t things she could turn a blind eye to.
“I would have released them,” he said. “If you’d asked me to.”
“And if I wasn’t there to ask?”
Mikael walked slowly around the side of the table. “Will you judge the man in front of you, instead of the one in your mind?”
“Because the one in front of me is so much better?” she cut back, moving so the table stayed between them.
Mikael’s brow creased, and then he sighed. “I don’t want things to be like this between us. I do care for you, Salara.”
The fire of her fury died down ever so slightly, but she didn’t want it to die. She told herself she’d change things—she had to change things. And it would start by the lord commander being held accountable. “What will you do about him?” she asked. “What will you do about your commander?”
“I’ve spoken to him.”
“That’s not enough.”
He looked down, and then nodded. “All right.”
She hadn’t expected him to agree. Was he agreeing? “You’ll deal with him?” she asked.
“I will. These things won’t happen again.”
But relief didn’t come. She didn’t entirely believe him.
“Are you on your way out?” he asked.
She looked down at the books in her hand and then toward the door. She knew what he would ask if she said yes.
But he didn’t wait for her reply. “Can I walk you?”
He moved to the end of the table where she stood, and he held his arm for her. He was trying, she told herself. She did want him to try.
And she had to try too, for Mercia.
Slowly, she slipped her arm under his. He put his hand over hers and started them toward her sanctuary. They walked in silence, but there was a calm in his touch, a warmth. It wasn’t the touch of a monster. She felt his eyes on her. Her breaths quickened, but she kept her eyes forward.
When they reached the hall to her sanctuary—the boundary—he stopped, turning and looking down at her. “Will you dine with me tomorrow?” he asked.
He was trying. And she would try. Slowly, she nodded.
“Good night, Salara,” he said softly. Then he released her and left her to the quiet of her sanctuary.
As evening came the following day, Norah arrived in the dining room to find Mikael alone. He stood when she entered. “Salara,” he greeted.
She slowed as she approached the table, looking around. “Where is the lord commander?” He always ate his dinners with the king.
“He won’t be joining us anymore,” he said.
Norah paused in surprise. For the commander to be sent from the king would be a heavy blow to him, but she couldn’t muster any sympathy, and she couldn’t deny the relief of his absence. They both took their seats at opposite ends of the table, and servants set plates of food before them.
“And I’ve told him he’s to obey your commands as my own,” he added.
She didn’t know what to say. He’d given her control over the most powerful man in his kingdom, a man he loved as a brother. He’d told her he would deal with the commander. And he had. Whether the commander obeyed her—that was a different matter. But this was a good start. “Thank you,” she said finally.
They ate in silence, with their eyes catching each other occasionally. The tumbling in her stomach returned, and Norah couldn’t help the small smile on her lips. When they were finished, they stood.
“Can I walk you?” he asked as he moved to her end of the table and offered his arm. She slipped hers underneath, and he covered her hand in his, leading her toward her sanctuary. She was starting to like this walk.
When they reached the hall, he stopped, but he didn’t let her go. “Can I take you to your door?”
A nervous flutter hit her stomach. Why was she nervous? She did want to bridge this gap between them, for them to be closer… She nodded.
When they reached her sanctuary door, she moved to pull her hand from his arm, but he tightened his hold, and they both stilled. His dark eyes flickered between hers, and his lips parted slightly. Then they closed, as if he were nervous too. Was he nervous? Her stomach fluttered more.
“Can I kiss you, Salara?” he asked ever so softly. He lowered his head to hers, but paused, waiting for her answer.
Her breath hitched in her chest. She wanted him to kiss her. So why couldn’t she say yes? This was a harsh kingdom, and he was a harsh king. The memory of him killing the Serran envoy’s guard filled her mind. He could be ruthless, and cruel. Although he wasn’t cruel to her.
But that wasn’t enough.
He’d given her control over the commander, she reminded herself. He’d asked her what he needed to change. For her…
His lips were so close. Her body threatened to betray her warring mind, conspiring with the gravities of the earth to pull her closer. She only needed to lift her chin.
He drew in a breath as he gave a small nod and pulled back. She’d hesitated too long, and her stomach dropped. She could still tell him yes—
“Good night, then,” he said, his voice polite.
She could still tell him… “Good night,” she whispered.
He turned and walked back the way they’d come.
Chapter forty-eight
The ink dried slowly on the parchment as she wrote, and Norah blew the letters dry. It had been hard to write a letter to her grandmother. She’d started over many times and still wondered if she should start again. She folded it, stamped her seal, and watched the wax harden.
The door opened, and Vitalia entered, carrying a plate of dried fruit and bread. She smiled at Norah. “Is that a letter you’re sending?”
She looked at the folded parchment in her fingers. “To my grandmother.” She wondered what Catherine was doing at that moment.
“Do you miss her?”
Norah did. “Salara-Mae reminds me of her.”
Vitalia frowned. “So, no?”
Norah couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. It pushed the sadness away, if only for a moment. The quiet returned. “I do miss her. I wish she understood.” She inhaled, trying to breathe energy back into herself and shift her mind to lighter thoughts. “I want to do something different today.” She thought for a moment. “Do you think we could go to the market?”
“I doubt the lord commander would approve of that.”
Norah shrugged. “The lord commander has no say.” There was a freedom to the words. “And I’ll take a proper guard.”
“That does sound amazing.” Vitalia grinned. “I’ll fetch your cloak.”
Norah stepped out of the castle and breathed in the winter morning. It felt good. She decided to walk through the gardens on her way to the front gates, and she smiled when she saw Bremhad tending a tall set of shrubs.
“Salara,” he greeted her with a bow as she approached.
“Good morning, Bremhad.”
She gazed over at the rows of small shoots that had been planted a few weeks prior. They seemed to be coming along. “I was wondering about the planter boxes under the windows outside the great hall. In my sanctuary, there’s a balcony. Could you put the same there?”
“Of course, Salara. I would be happy to.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
Norah’s step had a new spring of life. She grinned at Vitalia as they left the walls of the castle and wandered into the busy market of the city. Finally. The feeling of freedom was one she’d hungered for—one that had escaped her, even in Mercia. But not any longer. She glanced over her shoulder at her guard behind her and saw Kiran didn’t share her same glee. She couldn’t help but be amused. Beside him was Bhastian. She didn’t see him as much as the others in the Crest. A close man of the lord commander, he took duties for the brute often, no doubt spying on her for him.
Norah strolled through the market stalls, looking over the handiworks and art. She hadn’t expected to garner so much attention, but all eyes were on her. Many bowed as she passed, and some smiled. No one was unkind.
“Here, taste this,” Vitalia said as she held out a small red treat.
Norah put it in her mouth and laughed at the burst of sweetness. “What is that?” she asked.
“They’re candies made from mountain berries.”
“They’re delicious!”
“Here.” Vitalia dumped a pile into Norah’s hand.
Norah laughed as they walked on. Just then, a child ran across the cobbled street, but stopped abruptly when he saw her. He stared at her, wide-eyed. She smiled and held out one of the sweets for him, but he only stood frozen. Just when she thought he might not take it, he grabbed it from her hand and ran away. She looked at Vitalia with amusement and laughed again.
