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“—someone will have to remain here in Lumenfell, ruling our people and raising our children while I lead the conquer.”
A roaring sounded in my ears. What did he say? “Excuse me? Children? Whose children?”
“Our children.”
He repeated it, and it still didn’t make sense.
“We are not having children.”
“We will have so many children, they will outnumber all the basks in all the seas in all the world.”
I choked, flinging away. “What!”
Face changing, Alisdair laughed. “You’re so amusing when you squawk, little bird. Calm yourself. Two or three will more than suffice. You will stay here to raise them, and teach our heirs all that I’m teaching you,” he said. “So pay attention.”
Shock fled, and rage flooded in fast. “I’m the one who must stay behind and raise the imaginary children? Is that what you think a woman’s place is? Having your beast-babies, raising your beast-babies, then putting my head down and ass up, so you can impregnate me with some more?”
“No, dear,” he ground out. “I would happily stay and rear our heirs, but then you’d have to lead our armies against Elva. You’ve made such a tantrum of being against it, I assumed that wasn’t an option for you.” Alisdair raised a brow. “Or would you prefer we wage war together, side by side, and abandon our children here with nursemaids and servants?” He tsked, looking genuinely disgusted. “Very cold, my queen. You hate ourbeast-babiesthat much, and they’re not even born.”
My jaw worked, outrage stealing every word before it could leave my tongue. How had he turned this around on me? In one conversation, I became a bad mother to children that didn’t exist, and a war-monger when there was no war!
“You enjoy this, don’t you?” My eyes narrowed to slits. “Twisting words? Keeping everyone around you a little off-balance, a little distrusting, and a lot scared. Your mind games do not work on me,” I said softly, drawing near. “But consider this while you play them. You might just be teaching me to rule the kingdom... that I’ll steal from you.”
I smiled brightly. “Begin with your lesson, husband. I’m listening.”
“Yes,” he replied, reaching for the map. “Finally, you begin to accept your fate.”
He said that, but I saw it. For the barest second... Shadowsoul hesitated.
“LAST IS WOLF TERRITORY,” he said, drawing a circle around a stretch of land behind Castle Riagin. “As they change, they’re becoming more possessive of it, leading to bloody conflicts around their borders. As a result, we’ve declared this area off-limits to all but Foalan.
“This means if such a conflict arises, you must punish both the wolf and the other party involved,” Alisdair said. “Punishment for the violence. Punishment for provoking the violence by entering a forbidden area.”
I swallowed hard, identifying that area all too quickly.That dark, ominous pit. It was the home of bloodthirsty wolf faeriken that would’ve killed me on sight. The very pit Meallan tried talking me into entering. Instead, he helped me and let me go.
Why did he let me go? And what would’ve happened if I’d taken his hand?
“What if—” I cleared my dry throat. “What if you wander into that area by accident? Surely no one should be punished for an accident?”
“You are queen. You do not know the meaning of accident.” He rolled the map closed with asnapthat echoed in my chest. “And you do not forgive them.”
“I don’t foresee me being the kind of queen you want, or expect.”
“You don’t foresee being my queen at all,” he lofted, crossing the room. “Isn’t your grand plan to escape through the dark, ice, and cold to the importantthingswaiting for you in the kingdom of women-haters?”
I flushed. Again, every word out of his mouth was a dagger to my soft parts.
“Why should it make a difference to you what kind of queen I hope you to be?”
“It doesn’t,” I replied. “Because you’ll be dead by then.”
Slitted eyes tracked him to a darkened corner of the war room. He placed the map on the bottom of an overstuffed shelf, then waved his hand. Before my eyes, the bookshelf melted into the wall, leaving nothing but bare stone.
“How do you do that?” I blurted. “You’re not wearing any crystals. Unless, they’re... um...” I tried to stop myself, but I flicked down.
“You more than anyone know what’s in my pants, and it’s not coudarian crystals.”
Regret is swift.
