Page 30 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

He flashed her one of his own back, surprising her. “It seems congratulations are in order.”

“There is no need to congratulate something that should already stand.” Emara placed her chin in the air again.

He smiled a terrible grin, one that rattled her core. It was like she had just fallen prey to one of his hideous traps.

“Talking of things that should already stand,” he began. She took a breath and prayed to Rhiannon as a darkness spread in his smile. “Shouldn’t your second name have been altered by now, under the treaty of marriage?”

“I wasn’t aware there was a time constraint on my engagement,” Emara quickly batted back, feeling the thunder in her heart.

“Engagement?” He huffed a laugh. “I see no promise ring on your finger.”

The crowd dropped silent again as they took their seats.

Emara opened her mouth to speak when the minister cut her off, “Given the fact that it is an alliance that you require as an empress.”

Oh Gods, where in the underworld was this headed?

“The fact still remains that none of the Blacksteel hunters have owned up to their part of the deal between your house and their clan. It seems that they cannot provide you with an offer that you cannot resist.” He ground his teeth and then stood slowly. “But I think that’s about to change. I will make you an offer that should be irresistible to a woman who needs an alliance.”

An uneasiness had spread through the crowd, and whispers like an eerie song had begun to flutter, but the pounding of her heart seemed to drown everything else out.

“Instead of marrying for a hunter alliance, I could offer you much more than protection for your coven, Miss Clearwater. And since you are all about paving new paths for the women of your world, why not come to an agreement with someone who offers just that? Someone like me.”

Emara blinked a few times before she concluded that she was not in the middle of a nightmare. Before she could respond, the chief commander, who had made his way back to his chair, said, “That won’t be necessary, Minister of Coin. The empress is not a trade deal. She is set to wed Gideon Blacksteel when they both see fit.”

The statement hit her worse than a punch in the gut.

The truth of her so-called fate.

She was running on borrowed time, that she knew, but she hadn’t expected the topic of her marriage to appear in today’s meeting. She thought the shock of her request would have at least bought her a few more moons.

“I understand that there is a treaty in place for her to be promised to the Blacksteels, whichever one it is this month.” The Minister of Coin finally took his eyes from Emara’s face and looked to Viktir Blacksteel, who was wearing a dangerous scowl. “But I am looking to put forth my offer to the Empress of Air for her consideration to take my hand in marriage. With no true leader in Emara’s corner, with no seat on the prime, every witching coven is at risk, and I can provide the wealth that the air coven needs.”

Emara watched the spineless man who led the human faction try to create fear amongst her witches. He wanted them to feel vulnerable. He wanted her to need him. He wanted to see the temptation in her eyes when he laid out his offer. That was what men like him did. They abused all the power they had, they manipulated, and they took advantage.

His slimy voice brought her attention back to his face.

“If you were to be my bride, I would offer you a limitless pocket of coin for your coven to use as they see fit. We could pay guards handsomely. You wouldn’t need a wolfpack or a clan. You would have me and my wealth. With your potential and my influence in the kingdom, we would be the ultimate pairing.”

Trickles of panic could be heard from her coven whispering in the front row. Emara glanced at Lorta, who was holding hands with Kaydence, and their terrified faces were not the only reason that she had fire pulsing in her fingertips.

This was not how marriage offers were supposed to be presented to an empress, and he knew it. He was not only insulting her, but her coven too. He was trying to make her look inferior to him. Weak.

“I am not interested in how much coin you are willing to hand over to my coven for my hand in a treaty,” Emara assured him. “What we require is more than a small piece of metal that is heavy in your pocket, especially when I can have a warrior of Thorin that would provide ten times the artillery that you can.”

“Why would an empress only be interested in artillery when she could be the bride of someone wealthy enough to buy every army in the kingdom?” He twirled that pinkie ring again, and she had visions of cutting it off his hand with a dagger.

However, Emara was still in a formal setting, with the eyes of the kingdom on her, and she couldn’t let this man goad her into something terrible when she had just been victorious.

She swallowed down what she really wanted to say and plastered the mask of an empress back onto her face. “I am flattered by your offer, Your Grace, but I can’t accept it.”

An arrogant shine beaded in his eye, and cruelty pulled at his lip. Something had switched. “Today, you may have won over the alpha in your little game of equality, and you may have enamoured the Fae king with whatever elemental enchantment you hold over him…” He came out from behind the table and strolled a little closer. “And the Gods only know how you have managed to keep the most powerful hunting clans at your back.” He paused, looking over her. “But you don’t have me fooled, girl. I know all it takes to persuade a woman in a powerful position is the right settlement figure and a husband whose life is not on the line every night they step out into a hunt.” He threw a glance over his shoulder. “Chief Commander, if you dissolve the alliance between Clan Blacksteel and House Air, I can make you an offer that could make you one of the wealthiest men in the kingdom. Name your price. You know I can pay it.”

Emara couldn’t help but scoff, even if it were unprofessional of her. All he could offer was coin. But that didn’t haunt Emara as much as why he wanted her as a bride. That part was frightening.

“This is a direct insult to my can.” Viktir Blacksteel stood, his chest puffing out.

The chief commander raised a single finger as a command to stand down.

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