Page 129 of The Crimson Walls Of Algorath

Markus’s mouth drew thin. “I believe I understand what it is you desire, General.”

Now this would be interesting. Loren dropped his hand and raised a quizzical brow at the Princeps. “Do you now?”

“You wish to be named my heir.” Markus stood a little taller, the shadow of his previous position as General of Valenul showing in the edges of his hard features. “And you wish to marry my daughter to gain that title.”

Loren shifted back on his heels and smirked. Alek’s face drained of any color and when Emillie moved to step forward, he pulled her back with a warning hiss of air between his teeth. She stopped dead and looked to her father. The father whom she had always believed to be the most powerful man in Valenul.

Now she would see that the most powerful Caersan would always be the one with the army at his beck and call.

“It seems you have figured me out,” Loren said smoothly. “Bravo.”

Markus shook his head. “I rescind my blessing. You will never marry her, and after this madness, you will never be Princeps.”

If any of the three believed those words to be strong enough to take the wind from his sails, Loren would be surprised. Though they held their positions with the belief that Markus could, in fact, take away Loren’s position again, he did not back down.

“That is where you are mistaken,” Loren said, “I no longer wish to be Princeps.”

Alek must have seen it in his eyes before Markus registered his next move. The Lord Governor, wise as he was, jerked Emillie back and placed his body firmly in front of her. Markus, however, moved too slow.

In the span of a heartbeat, Loren pulled his sword from its sheath and buried the blade in Markus’s chest. The Princeps did not even have the chance to speak, let alone scream, before the air punched from his lungs at the impact. Those sharp, golden eyes widened in surprise and turned down to look at the sword now buried in him just before the blood leaked from between his lips.

A scream shattered the air. As Markus’s knees gave out and Loren pulled the blade free, he calmly turned his attention to Alek struggling to hold Emillie back.

“Father!” Emillie writhed in her husband’s arms, tears flooding her pallid cheeks. Her eyes never left the dead Caersan as the lifeless Princeps crumpled to the floor, his unseeing eyes still wide with shock. “What have you done? What have you done?”

Loren stepped back and held out a hand. One of his officers passed a kerchief to him, which he used to wipe down his blade.

“Like I said.” When he spoke, he made sure it was just loud enough to be heard over the insufferable wailing. All eyes turned to him, even Alek’s as he clutched his wife to his chest. “I no longer wish to be Princeps.”

Alek shook his head. “You fucking monster.”

He almost laughed. Instead, he shook his head and sheathed his clean blade. The officers behind him would do anything he said, so he turned to the Lord Governor to ensure full cooperation. “Things will be different now, Lord Nightingale, and if you wish to be a part of it and continue protecting that beautiful wife of yours…I suggest you fall in line.”

“Loren—”

“No.” He held out his arms. “You may now address me as Your Majesty or King Gard.”

The Caersan glanced over Loren’s shoulder as though expecting the officers to turn against him. Pathetic. “Excuse me?”

“It is time for us to return to our roots as a monarchy,” Loren explained, keeping his words simple for the man who clearly did not understand what he was saying. “Therefore, I will not be your Princeps. I am your King. And if you wish to maintain order in the Waer Province on my behalf, you will pledge your allegiance to me. Now.”

“Fuck you!” Emillie snarled, her red-rimmed eyes burning into him. It almost amused him.

“Emillie, silence,” Alek said, only holding her tighter.

She looked up at him incredulously. “You cannot be considering bending your knee to him.”

Alek grimaced. “I swore to keep you safe.”

“I will not bow to him.”

“You will,” Alek said, his voice growing quieter and quieter with every word. “You must. Trust me. Please.”

Loren narrowed his eyes. “Your sister will be my Queen. Be a good girl and listen to your husband…for her sake. I would hate for you to miss her coronation.”

He left the rest unsaid. There was no need to tell her that she would die if she did not cooperate. She was smarter than her sister, and judging by the way her eyes widened in fear, she understood his implications just fine.

“I cannot let either of you leave this room,” he continued, “without your undying fealty.”

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