Page 23 of The Horned King

On the bright side, I'll have a pretty, if perpetually stony, face to look at all the while. I let my mind wander just for a moment as to what she might be doing right now. If she's already consumed the wine that Raya dropped off for her not too long ago.

I wonder if she mourns the lives lost today or if her only concern is for herself. Would she be worried in her last moments about the consequences of her death for the rest of the world, or would she only fear for herself? Begrudgingly, I already know the answer to both of those questions. When it comes to her own safety, she is utterly unbothered. Otherwise, she would never have come here in the first place, and she would watch her tone when she spoke to me.

I can't think of any other person who would dare to so brazenly disrespect me, so thoroughly rake me across the coals. Raya might be a close second, but even she has her self-preservation and knows not to push me when I'm on the brink of murdering someone.

But not Elva. Her cruelty seeps into my skin, infuriating me and making me question myself even when I've done nothing but defend myself and my kingdom. Her accusations at every step leave me clenching my jaw when anyone else would be dead before they hit the floor after spewing such vitriol.

While part of me wishes to punish her for such insolence, another, far more dangerous side of me craves her unkind words. They're the only glimpse she's willing to give me of who she really is. If I have to earn her ire at every step to see the stunning creature beneath her mask, I'll do so.

I wonder what it would take to completely destroy the facade she wears and see what lies underneath the pristine, locked-in-place visage she's built up. She may have the uncanny ability to infuriate me, but I can get under her skin just as easily. How much would it take before she breaks completely? What manner of wickedness would come out if she let it?

For the briefest moment today, I was blessed with seeing her. She was so close to the freedom of letting go, her hunger evident in the hitch of her breath, the way her body shook from the effort of holding back from me.

Between the venom she spat at me, the only thought in my mind was to discover if her viper's tongue would taste as sinful as it sounded. I know instinctively that the answer is a resounding yes. As she tensed, I could feel her begging her body not to react to me, begging to remain in control. How could I possibly make her lose herself completely? What sounds would she make if she allowed herself to–

"Are you even listening to me?" Shan interrupts my reverie just in time to stop that delicious thought from going any further.

"Admittedly, I am not."

"Well, this is kind of important," he tsks. "We need to keep Elva under lock and key. Throw her up in the tower if we have to."

With a laugh, I admit, "I've considered it. But we have to keep her happy, too."

"Why don't you just kill her and then keep her going like the hired gun today?" he asks, and something inside my chest feels hot, a fury I can't explain and choose to ignore. While I disliked the casual tone with which he spoke of her earlier, I despise his carelessness of her even more. "Certainly you could make her pretend to be happy, go along with the negotiations, get everything we need out of them, and then escort her home. Once she crosses the border, she could die, and no one would be the wiser."

"I'm not killing her," the words escape unbidden.

"Why not? It would make things easier. Then you needn't worry about whatever killer they send next."

I slam my palm on the table before me and repeat, "I'm not killing her. And neither is anyone else."

Taken aback, Shan holds up both palms in concession. "Understood, sire. I just thought it was something to consider."

"It's been considered. It's not happening," I reiterate to his confusion. Normally, I wouldn't worry myself that much about someone's life. There are only a handful of people I care about enough to keep them breathing. Death is just an inevitable part of life. Two halves of one whole, and you can't have one without the other. So I cannot keep death from anyone, not really. I can only bring it to them faster or keep their restless spirit trapped inside their body.

But even without Ovoor's warning yesterday, I don't think I would be willing to snuff out Elva's light. There's too much of it, too fiery. She hides behind her well-trained manners and rigid posture, but the fire shines through each time I push her, the shell breaking.

Of course, Shan doesn't need to hear all of that. He only knows what I allow.

One of my guards alerts me that my little houseguest is demanding to see me, and I watch the altercation through several sets of undead eyes. The way she commands them, plainly drunk but still ever the formidable force, reminds me of a queen.

Now, there's an idea.

She storms through the castle, only tripping over her bare feet once, immediately righting herself. Chin held high, she smooths the hair attempting to escape from the tight plaits, and continues on even though she has no clue where she's going.

I allow the guards to guide her here, a plan for her finally forming in my mind.

"What's happening?" Shan asks from his seat across from me.

Excitement bubbles up inside me, but I keep it from showing, as I always do. I might trust Shan to see my face, but even he isn't trustworthy enough to know my deepest thoughts. And the thoughts I have of Elva are not appropriate for anyone, much less a man who would most definitely take my place if he could. He can pretend proximity to power is enough for him, but it isn't. Not for anyone, not really.

"Elva is looking for me. She's drunk and furious." I use all my effort to keep the smile from creeping onto my face. For a moment, he seems suspicious but I can't be sure.

"Are you going to send her away?" He raises a brow. "We are not finished discussing what to do with her."

"You needn't worry about that, Shan," I assure him. "I have a plan."

Both brows raise now. "You do?"

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