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"Wow." I blink slowly, considering the implications of that kind of power. "Do you do that often?"
He shakes his head. "No. Making them remain mostly alive takes a lot of concentration. But it was necessary today. Though I didn't get quite the information I needed."
"So you don't know who hired him," I fill in the blanks.
"Correct." He nods. "He did not know who it was. They were anonymous, sent a small portrait of you along with a sizable stack of money and a letter stating that if you were not eliminated while in Oksangui, his family would be."
"Shit."
He hums his assent. "So, because your death would spark a war between our countries, and now someone is working very hard to ensure that happens, I need to take... special precautions to keep you safe."
The world spins around me, though I'm unsure if it's from the alcohol, the king and his deliciously sinful scent, or the taunting lilt he's using with such ominous words. I only barely manage to ask, "Special precautions? Like what?"
He leans toward me again, and I wonder when he managed to get so close. "You'll be staying with me. In the royal's suite." Before I can argue, he holds up a palm. "Yes. I know. Not ideal. But other than the dungeon, it's the most secure part of the palace. Only one way in and out. Well, that anyone knows of."
"No." Suddenly struggling to breathe, I repeat it. "No. I won't."
"Elva," he says my name again, and I can't help but be drawn into his gaze. "Until we discover who is targeting you and why, I need to keep you close. Unless you prefer the dungeon. I certainly wouldn't mind having you in chains. Might make it easier."
I cough out a laugh, the absurdity of it all making me howl with laughter. He watches me carefully as I cackle, trying to bring myself back. I cannot believe this is happening to me.
"It won't be so terrible," he assures me. "The royal's suite has several rooms, so you'll have your own private space to sleep, bathe, and dress. It was originally for both a king and queen, so we'll just be sharing a small space with a few seats, the breakfast table, a fireplace, and the main entrance."
"And you are going to be keeping me safe?" I raise a brow in disbelief.
"I am."
"Why should I trust you?" I ask.
With a shrug, he tells me, "Because you have no choice. You can share space with me or the rat the guards have been trying and failing to kill for the last two years."
"A rat?" I nearly shriek, causing him to fall into a fit of laughter now. "I'm not living with a fucking rat."
"Splendid. That's exactly what I thought you'd say."
I haven't moved from this spot in approximately three hours. I've sat here and watched the fire dance through my swirling wine vision. The sounds of guards moving the few things I was permitted to keep into my new room ended long ago, and yet I can't bring myself to go in there.
Two days. Everything I planned so carefully for years has fallen apart in two days. This was supposed to be simple.
I was supposed to negotiate this peace treaty and sign the most significant peace and trade agreement ever in the history of our world. And now I'm sharing a room with The Horned King himself, hiding from some mystery person who wants me dead for some mystery reason, and yet I'll still have to stand in front of all the dignitaries of our continent, advocating for this agreement.
A weight drops onto the couch beside me, and while for a moment I worry it's the king coming to taunt me further, Raya's voice instantly gives me comfort.
"Wine got to you, huh?" she teases, nudging me with a shoulder.
"That it did."
"That's alright. Happens to the best of us. Years ago, long before all this, I drank so much with my girlfriend that we…" she pauses in thought. "Well, I'm not quite sure what happened that night, but the next morning, we woke up in a cell with a wild pig, a quartet band, and Kairon begrudgingly bribing the guards."
A flash of something hot and poisonous fills my chest, gone as quickly as it came. "You've known the king that long?"
She nods. "As long as I can remember."
"And he knew you well enough to pay your way out of a jail cell?" I laugh at the image of his cold, stoic voice asking the guards what on earth Raya could have done to earn such a fate.
"Of course." She runs a hand through her hair, pulling the wild strands from her face. "I'd do the same for him, you know. We're family. A dysfunctional one, definitely. But for a while, we were all the other had."
"Raya," the king's voice suddenly appears behind us. "Elva has no interest in hearing about all the times I've rescued you from your own foolishness."
