Page 200 of Settle Down, Princess

“By brutalising women?”

“Yes, well—” the general started to say.

“The wolf shifters knew,” Mark said, the tension in him making his muscles tremble with unleashed energy. “They knew what was going on. It’s why they deserted. Their women were threatened—”

“All women are threatened in Khean,” I told him in a flat voice. “I wish I could say this is the first time I’ve ever heard of something like this, but it’s not. Over and over again, he does this. To all the princesses we were forced to bring to Khean.”

“Princesses?” Mark jerked as if I’d leant over and slapped him. “So they’re not even safe?” His hand shook as he reached up and then tugged the insignias of rank off his jacket and then tossed them to the floor. “I joined the army to fight for my country, to keep it safe, and I’m not even allowed to do that by this fucking king…” His bottom lip quivered. “By this monstrous bastard who’d do this…” Everyone moved aside as he approached and stroked his fingers down her cheek. They jerked back at the feel of her, all life driven from her body. “No king of mine would do this to my sister.” His eyes met mine. “So Magnus is not my king.”

“To go against the king’s orders is treason,” the general snapped. “I’ve already committed that by ignoring his messages for help. All I can do is hope the Bastard.., Prince Arik takes the throne and pardons me for such behaviour.”

“You might need to wait for that, but I don’t. Put me in the stockade, string me up for desertion, I don’t fucking care,” Mark said. “I’m done. If this army stands by while Khean burns, then I am no soldier.”

“But you can be a fighter.” My voice sounded old and creaky as a warped floorboard, but I pressed on. “Fight with the Duke of Fallspire’s men to take the capital, the country, for Arik. You know the prince is one of us. He’s fought by your side, taking his licks just like the rest of us.” Mumbles of agreement went around the crowd. “He’s cleaned up latrine floors and spent more time in the stockade than most.” The rumbles grew louder. “You know if its his arse on the throne he won’t fuck about protecting himself as he hurts some poor girl, leaving the rest of the country to burn. He’s a soldier. He’ll march by your side when we ride to the border to show our enemies the error of their ways.”

“Fuck waiting around,” another man said, much higher ranked, as he tore insignia after insignia off his jacket. “Roan speaks true. Knock this fucking bastard king off his perch, then for the border!”

“To the border!” came a cry around the mess hall.

“Mark, take your sister home,” the general said over the chaos. “Take your time to grieve. This country owes you a debt and we…” He scanned the crowd, habit forcing people to quieten down. “It’s past time we extract it from the usurper’s hide. The army marches on the capital!”

I didn’t come down here to rabble rouse. I didn’t aim to return to the capital with an army at my back, but that was just what I did. The lot of us stormed through the streets, not bothering with onlookers, not when we had our enemy in sight. Our number surged through the gates, eradicating any remaining defences the guards might muster, our roars filling the palace as we massed in the courtyard.

“Bring out the bastard!” someone shouted. “Bring out the king!”

The cry went through the crowd, picked up and chanted, the royal army and Duke of Fallspire’s men all mingling as one, wolf shifter and humans together. Something swelled in my chest, getting bigger and bigger, until I climbed up the steps and turned to face the crowd.

“Are we going to call him out?” I shouted. “Or are we going to hunt him down like a dog?”

My answer came in the form of men surging forward, up the palace steps.

Chapter 112

“Imagine what you can get for his fated mate?”

Giselle was far more terrifying than Magnus. Blood dripped from my nose, slowly creating a small puddle at my feet and my shoulders ached from the angle they were set at by my bindings, but it wasn’t the king’s wide-eyed stare that had my heart rate picking up. It was her slow smile, baring all of her teeth that had my whole body going rigid.

“Fated mate?” Magnus stepped forward, staring at me as if he saw me for the first time. “Lady Ariel?”

“Ariel?” Giselle’s frown was a mirror of my own. We both stared at the king, but I wasn’t sure he saw us.

“Of course…” Magnus’ hand struck like a snake’s dragging me out of Giselle’s grip. “The Raven brought me to you.”

“Yes, but—” I tried to say.

“I know the fiend I was forced to call brother has turned your head with pretty tales.” Magnus drew closer, seeing my bound hands for the first time, my arms shaking as his fingers slid along the curtain tieback Giselle had used to bind me. “I know he has promised that you will be queen by his side, but you have to know that these are lies. Arik is the king’s by-blow. My father never should’ve let him within ten feet of the palace. At the very best, his mother could’ve been set up in some small manor in the borderlands. By bringing him to court, my father allowed rebellious lords like your father to nurse terrible ambitions.”

I sucked in a breath as his hand wrapped around my bound wrist, tightening the grip both he and the rope had on me. This was instantly regretted as his stink filled my nose.

“They think that they can place their puppet on the throne, control all of Khean through Arik, but you can stop them.”

I let out a hiss of pain, the impression of the silken rope branded into my skin, but that one sound had him jerking his hands back as if stung. His fingers unpicked the knot over Giselle’s protest, but he waved her off. The rope was unwound, blood rushing painfully to my hands.

“You’re the only one who can stop the war that’s coming,” he said, as gentle as a maid as my bindings were tossed aside. Magnus checked my wrists and then rubbed the skin, as if that would remove the marks left there. “You’re the only one who can prevent countless men from dying on the battlefield. Mothers will weep for the loss of their sons, children for their fathers.”

I stared at Magnus, trying to look past those partially unfocused eyes and into that diseased brain of his, to determine what devil rode him now.

“This is not Lady Ariel—” Giselle started to say, pushing forward.

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