Page 6 of The Horned King

"She is standing right here." The words escape my gritted teeth before I can stop them, sealing my fate. "So why don't you ask her who she is."

One corner of his lips lifts in an almost smile as his gaze reaches mine again. "Go ahead, then. Who are you?"

I clench my fists at my sides, "I am Elva Aistin."

"And?"

"And I'm here as an ambassador for Rhyma," I speak slowly, ending the statement like it's a question so he understands just how unimpressed I am with his unpreparedness.

He chuckles, a cruel sound with no mirth. "So you're not a whore. But you are a liar."

"Excuse me?"

With a feigned, weary sigh, he continues, his colossal frame filling up almost my entire line of sight. "If you had done any research before this sad attempt at infiltrating my palace, you'd know that the nation of Rhyma elects their representatives. And they're all old bats because they have to go through years of education before they are even eligible for a position."

Old bats? I twirl the ring on my finger, already adding it to the list of my nervous habits. The king notes the motion, his eyes flicking down to my hand and then back up.

"Your majesty," Shan repeats more emphatically. "She is who she says. She was only recently elected, and we have been in communication during these last few weeks."

I blink several times, the truth becoming clear at last. I turn to Shan, unable to keep the accusation from my tone, "You've been corresponding with me."

"Yes," he replies, looking guiltily at the king from the corner of his eye. "The King was-"

The arrogant man in question interrupts, drawing my attention back to him, "The king had better things to do than write letters back and forth with a nation that disrespected him."

This genuinely shocks me. "Disrespected? How did we disrespect you? You sent back four of our messengers as shriveled corpses." I can feel the rage inside me filling my cheeks with heat, and I try to tamp it down. I can generally deal with people irritating me and even outright angering me without triggering such a response, but this man is already toying with my last nerve, and my mouth seems to run on its own.

"Perhaps we should discuss this inside?" Shan suggests. "Your Majesty, you never know when someone might be listening."

The king's gaze traverses my face, searching for a moment, "I was actually just on my way out." His condescension washes over me, fueling the fire inside my chest.

"By all means, please go." Once again, the blasted words escape unbidden. I gesture for him to keep walking, stepping out of his way. "Don't let something as trivial as international relations get in the way of whatever you had planned for today."

Both of his brows travel nearly up to his hairline before shrugging, "Well, if you insist."

As he eases around me without another look, his small army following shortly behind him, the scent of something utterly delicious and sinful fills my head. Lavender, the scent of freshly washed leather, and something both sweet and bitter that I've never smelled before. The scent remains until long after they disappear around a corner of the palace.

After I pick my jaw up off the floor, I smooth down the front of my pants and turn to Shan. Now that the dismissive, insufferable king is gone, perhaps I can gain a little bit of my dignity back. But my rage still hasn't dissipated, and I stare again at the spot where he vanished, seething. "That's the king? That's His Royal Majesty, feared far and wide as The Horned King, Kairon Laichnek?

Shan's genuine distress softens my anger, though only marginally. "My deepest apologies, Miss Aistin. I had planned to explain everything to you once we were inside. I had certainly not planned for you two to meet this way."

He urges me up the stairs and into the opulent entrance, which is even more grand than it appears outside. The windows turn everything into a mural of blues, greens, and oranges, surrounding me with more color than I've ever seen in one place.

As much as I'd like to sit and soak in the beauty surrounding me, I'm here to work, and based on that interaction, it's going to be far more difficult than I expected. I follow Shan through several hallways until it opens up to a small room with a dining table in the middle. Shan explains that this room is used for serving when there's no guests for the king to entertain so we can speak more freely here.

He pulls out a chair and allows me to sit before sitting in one across from me.

"Let me explain," he starts. "King Laichnek was willing to meet with you. That was never a lie."

"Okay," I say slowly, waiting for more of an explanation.

He taps his fingers on the table rhythmically. "He just... didn't care very much one way or the other. If you were willing to travel here, fine. If not, he wasn't going to lose sleep over it."

"So you wrote to me behind his back?"

With a shake of his head, he corrects me, "No, he knew I was writing. He simply didn't care to know what was being said. After the... less than ideal way you just met, you can see how he isn't great with communication."

That's an understatement.