Page 25 of To Bleed A Kingdom

Feet stuttering to a halt, I fold my arms over my chest and study him, searching for any indication that he’s joking. But I don't find laughing eyes or a teasing smirk, only hardened lines and thinned lips.

“That's horseshit,” I say on a scowl.

Boots scraping against stone, he slows to a stop, his brows knitting together. “Not really.”

“You don't see anything wrong with that?”

Darius shakes his head. “She's the Queen. That affords special privileges.”

“A privilege that citizens paid for with coins from their pocket, not the Queen’s. They should be able to use the street however they see fit.” Stepping towards him, I jab a finger into his chest. “Whether that's by riding in fancy carriages or on horses that shit all over the street.”

“It's also a security issue,” he says, his words muffled as he peers down in bafflement at my finger nestled between his pecs.

I scoff. “A security issue?”

“It's more difficult for her protection detail to travel on foot,” he answersdiplomatically.

Arching a brow, I point up ahead. “I don't see Aurora with a horse or protection detail.”

His brows knit further, staring at me as if I'm the illogical one. “Aurora’s not the Queen.”

No, just the perfect hostage. I could snatch her up right now if I wished.

Pursing my lips, my hair whips over my shoulder as I whirl around and continue forward, bitterness powering my legs and hatred clouding my thoughts at the discovery of another land ruled by those who only serve themselves. Gods, immortals, Queens, even the Stars, to a certain degree, are all the same, regardless of where they originate. Greedy, self-serving, power-hungry entities. They take and take and take, depleting their resources to ash and bones, giving no thought or care to whose blood they spill in doing so. Whose lives they destroy. Some, if not most, even revel in it.

Movement catches my eyes and my lips twitch when I see Tristan smack Kace upside the head, reminding me that it’s probably not in my best interest to get all pissy with an immortal. The Captain of the Guard, no less, and my only source of information at the moment.

Blowing out a steadying breath, I give Darius a tight smile. “She must have quite a few enemies if she can't even take a walk without guards.”

“That's the life of a monarch,” he says as if he's the monarch himself. “There will always be those who oppose their rule.”

On a humorless chuckle, I say, “Of course they do. She’s not willing to abide by the very same laws she enforces. Why should they? It's hypocritical.”

His shoulders lift in a dismissive shrug. “Nevertheless, she's still their Queen.”

“Doesn't make her deserving of her throne.”

Blue eyes coolly assess me as if he can't fathom someone speaking of their Queen so boldly, staring wordlessly at me like Tristan does those puzzles he’s so fond of. That is, until a small blonde female smacks into his chest, molding to his body and hugging him around the neck.

He grunts on impact, but then he smiles, raising his arms to snake around her waist.

Aurora giggles into his neck, squeezing him tightly. When she pulls back to place a sweet, affectionate kiss on Darius’ cheek, my puzzlement quickly shifts to a roiling in my stomach.

They're together?

Eyes darting between the two lovers, my chest tightens in realization. Unsure if I want to curl into a ball and sob or tear the offending limbs from her body, I instead stand paralyzed, helpless to endure the horror of how I could have so grossly misread their relationship.

“You're not coming home tonight,” he says, not as a question but a statement.

Aurora skates her palms down his neck to grip his massive shoulders. “I'm going to sleep in the loft above the shop.”

“Again?” he asks, still fucking holding her.

She nods.

How did I not see this?

Aurora drops down to the street and pivots to face me, completely unaware of my devastation. “You'll be coming by the shop in the morning, won’t you? With Amara?”

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