Page 36 of To Kill a King
She chewed the inside of her cheek as his heart fluttered, speeding energy to his muscles at his impending victory. “I have. I’ve seen it all, and the atrocities must stop.”
Turning away, she studied the shadowy garden below. “I’m sure the elves would say the same,” she muttered.
He clenched his teeth against a growl. Heavens save him from stubborn females. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his jaw. “As rulers, it’s our job to do everything we can to protect our people. Do you agree?”
“Of course.” She turned to face him, crossing her arms and leaning one hip against the banister. “Everyone in our kingdom deserves royal protection. Including the mages you murdered last night!”
He opened his mouth but she stepped forward, the brutal expression on her face sucking the words from his lips.
“Don’t give me your hypocritical ‘one dies to save the rest’ speech, because I don’t believe for a minute it will end with me. You are far too drunk on magic to give it up, even if the war ended.”
A dull ache thudded between his temples and behind his eyes. He fought the urge to massage the area. “Why can’t you just see reason? Our realm will be free! We’ll no longer have to worry about elven spies and assassins lurking in our midst, or raids along our borders, the mutilation of our women and children.” He swallowed past his suddenly dry throat as his ribs constricted. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pulled her toward him until they were eye to eye. “Surely one death is worth that. Think of our people in the borderlands. You could singlehandedly save them all.”
Squeezing her eyes tight in a grimace, she turned her head to the side as far as it would go. “I won’t be responsible for the genocide of an entire race.”
Something snapped in his mind. Heat flooded his veins, tinting his vision crimson.
If only he’d been able to keep his nobles under heel like his father had, through sheer terror and force of personality. Then he’d simply do what needed to be done, rather than mess with this political song and dance. “Listen, wife.” He fixed her with a hard glare. “If you don’t cooperate, your father will die…it’ll be painful, tragic and quite unexpected. A hunting accident, I’m thinking. With no one else to inherit, all assets belonging to the Larimar barony will revert to the crown. Of course, I’ll make sure you both receive a proper burial, with full honors, as befitting your stations.” He chuckled. It would be amusing, watching the court dance to his song as they fervently thanked the gods they didn’t share the Larimar’s fate.
Aliya blanched.
“If you come home now,” he continued, “I’ll make your father’s death quick and painless.”
She studied the stars, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips. Her breathing was shallow and rapid as she leaned against the banister as if her knees would no longer support her.
She wasn’t even paying attention. If threatening her father wasn’t sufficient motivation, he’d have to find a different trigger to leverage.
Heat flooded his chest, turning his vision crimson. He grabbed her chin and yanked her head around to face him. She tried to jerk away but he held her fast. “You will look at me when I’m talking to you!”
Soft footsteps sounded in the hallway inside, followed by a gentle tap on the door.
Malkov glared at the noise, as though his eyes could bore through the wood and fry the intruder on the far side. The magic that crawled over his skin and infused the spell started to fade. He turned to Aliya and grabbed her arm. “I’ve declared you a traitor to the realm and placed a bounty on your head high enough to tempt even the most sympathetic peasant. You’ll be hunted throughout the kingdom, and the longer it takes me to find you, the angrier I’ll be.” He tossed her to the floor.
She gasped and pulled her wrist against her chest.
He spun, heading back inside. “Think about my offer, because one way or another, I will have your magic for the war effort.” He blinked as she disappeared with a pop of displaced air.
The knock echoed again.
“What?!” Marching across the balcony, he reached the door and yanked it open. “What do you want?”
Garrick, his master artificer, squinted at him through spectacles that made his eyes seem bigger than they had any right to be. His frizzy gray hair stuck out in all directions like a cloud of smoke that encircled the old man’s head. He nodded, nudging his glasses a little higher on his nose as he cleared his throat. “My king, I’ve brought the next three Whisperers, as you requested.”
Malkov dropped his attention to the serving tray. The silver canisters sparkled in the starlight.
They were the most beautiful things he had ever seen, and the key to his kingdom’s salvation.
“They are ready to be infused, Your Majesty.”
Malkov smiled. “Excellent.” He certainly had enough magic leftover from the Mage College to fill two of them. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he’d be able to top off all three. Gesturing inside, he glanced over the edge of the balcony. “Leave them on my desk, thank you.”
Garrick bowed, heading back inside.
As he sat the tray down as indicated, Malkov came up behind him, wrapping his arm around one shoulder. “I have a new task for you.”
The master artificer raised an eyebrow, a spark of interest glimmering in his eye. “Oh?”
Malkov steered the man toward the exit. “Do you think it’s possible to design a magical device that will prevent magic from being used against the owner?”