Page 38 of Kill the Queens

The small silver dagger heated. She let it roll back toher palm as it sucked the light in from all around it then began toglow. Itpulsed. Itgrew.

What had been no bigger than two inches stretched. Farah blinked, convinced she was losing her mind. Where the metal sat her skin tingled in that familiar way. In the way that her body recognized magic now.

Then she was holding a dagger. Not just any dagger.

Queen Farah was holding amagicborn dagger.

One that had been banned from creation even before the queens’ rule. Magicborn weapons took more than they gave. Such as all magic that came from the gods.

***

The weather outside was too hot. The day was too sticky and the sun shone with such intensity you could feel it burning your skin the moment you stepped out into it. Her staff and court had suggested that Farah move the event inside to keep her suitors from heatstroke. She'd refused.

She'd refused again, as sweat dripped down her back and soaked into the light blue day dress, making the material at her back and under her breasts a few shades darker. A sun umbrella floated over her head, no hand holding it in place. It was a silly little magic trick that her sisters would consider beneath them. Farah didn't mind the small act but what bothered her was the spectacle it made of herself as everyone was surprised to see the umbrella suspended in air.

Ten suitors had been selected to return to today's events. Farah leaned forward from her throne that had been brought outside—by no less than twenty servants—and placed upon a stand that overlooked the event. She'd heard that about eight of the twenty servants had broken fingers, toes, and even a few hands and feet when the weight of the throne had gotten too much.

Reed and Zacharias were amongst the men today. From her little perch, she was able to see that Reed's bruises had faded a bit. His cuts were small slivers of scabs, and his eyes weren't really swollen any longer. He'd stolen several glances at her from where he leaned against the wooden posts. She wasn't so sure, but she felt like that was some quick healing for someone who was supposed to be human. Maybe he had some muddled bloodlines…

The gold-plated seat under her remained cool, another little magic trick, as she came forward even more. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, or some magical umbrella, to shade the men in the small arena. Each took their turn lifting weight set upon a metal bar over and over again until they reached a weight they could no longer lift.

Farah would clap politely for each man as they finished. A few of them had surprised her but most she thought she might be able to outlift by herself—if by herself included the fact that she'd drunk another human’s blood to take on their physical strength. Zacharias was up next and she had very little hope for him. The poor man might just snap himself in half. Now wouldn't that be a sight to see?

There were members of her court out today. The women were fanning themselves and most men had stripped down to bare linen tops, sleeves rolled up to reveal vascular forearms. Ellowen was there amongst them. Though she'd said previously that she wasn't backing Zacharias she applauded him vigorously when he stepped into the ring and gave Farah a shy smile.

He hadn't lifted anything yet, however, his shirt was still damp with sweat. White fabric clung to his torso where—even at her distance— Farah was able to make out the definition of muscles along his stomach. Honestly, that surprised the queen too.

Zacharias smiled as he lifted the first rounds of weights.All those hidden muscles tensed under his now see-through shirt. Farah propped an elbow on her leg, then her head on her fists as she admired him. Maybe he was worth being a real contender for the crown. She certainly wouldn't mind sharing a bed with him on occasion.

The next round he let out a breath, pulling the weight up to his chest then over his head. Each time the amount of weight progressed but it took a moment before Zacharias was even bothered by it. Eventually, though, it did get to the point where he grunted as he lifted the bar.

Farah was already smiling, he'd already beaten all of the men before him. This was a splendid surprise indeed.

After a few more attempts Zacharias had finally hit his max. The weights clanked against the bar as he dropped it heavily back to the ground. His broad chest lifted and fell with rapid breaths and sweat was dripping down his long nose, his glasses falling with it. He pushed the spectacles up with a single finger and met the queen's gaze again.

His voice carried up to her. "It is only by the strength of my heart that beats for you, my Queen, that I was able to do as much as I did." He pressed his fingers to his mouth and blew a kiss up to her stand.

Both her brows raised.That was awfully forward of him.She gave him a tight smile and applauded along with the court that shouted their praise. He was a clear contender in their eyes.

Behind that smile, her mind was churning with unease. She was intrigued by him, that much was clear, but she was also intrigued by Reed for entirely different reasons. What he'd said though…that his heart beat for her…that sounded like love. Or in the very least a very devoted sort of crush. Infatuation maybe?

It was probably the crown, the power, or her staff that appealed to him so much. Love had never felt real. Not the sortof love that people swear by. Couples married and then later hated each other. A person could love and die for another only to be forgotten as their other quickly swept themselves up in a new romance. Love was a show. Love was fake. And to even tease at its reality…that was a fool’s game.

She'd seen as much played out between her parents. Even now her heart ached from their death. But Farah had known a secret, one that none of her sisters had ever known. Her father, the man who danced with her mother every day to the tune of some song stuck in his head, loved another. Farah had walked in on them kissing in the dark. It had broken her heart for her mother. But she couldn't bring herself to tell a soul. So her mother had died thinking the man she was married to loved her the same as the day they got together.

Love was a lie.

Reed and Zacharias passed each other as one left the ring and the other entered. Farah could see their lips moving as they spoke in passing. What were they saying to each other? Reed's face was blank as he nodded at the man.

Farah willed her face into neutrality and Reed strode across the lawn. Servants were moving toward Zacharias’ final weight to begin taking slabs off the bar for Reed to begin his little show but he barked something Farah couldn't make out and waved them off. Sucking in the hot humid air of the day, Farah stood up from her seat as Reed lifted Zacharias’ final weight with ease.

"Fuck," Farah whispered under her breath, both astonished and mildly attracted to the very act. Attracted in the way that she was jealous of his strength, she reminded herself.

She remained standing as the servants, with their jaws dropped into ovals, loaded up more weight. He went again.

And again.

And then fucking again.

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