Page 28 of Till Kingdom Come

“Stop all this womanly sentiment. I told you, love is for mortals, and you’re still thinking like one.”

He took a deep breath and shook his head. “All right then. I’ll marry you. God help me.”

“Dry your eyes and wash the tears off your face. The king is expecting us. We’ll be happy—I promise you.” For some reason, the words seemed to ring throughout the room, and we both heard it. I told myself I’d just imagined it. He looked a little frightened, so I pulled him close.

“I do promise. I’ll do everything in my power to make this work.”

Chapter Eight

Killian

I was still reeling from our conversation when we entered the king’s hall to dine. How could I not be? I’d just been informed that I was not human, and that I was the son of an Elf King. Nobody seemed to know what my mother was, but she had apparently stolen me from my father as a baby and taken me away with her. It was insanity, and far too much to take in all at once.

In a way, I was almost glad, though, because it kept me from dwelling on Bracca and his marriage proposal—if I could call that cross between a seduction and having my arm twisted an actual proposal.

The room was large, with stone walls covered in huge, faded tapestries. It had a cavernous ceiling and a long wooden table heaped with fine china, silver and crystal running down its length. Candles glittered and sputtered on the table and in the sconces on the walls. Seated around the table were four hard-faced men, all handsome and regal. I assumed they were the king’s council though no one introduced me. They all stood as we came in, though, along with a lady seated on the left of the king. All were drinking blood red wine from their crystal goblets. King Larek himself glared at me and made no effort to stand.

Larek was dressed all in black, and it accentuated his eyes and fair hair. I noticed again how handsome he was, but also how frigidly cold. His hair hung down to his waist and flowed across his shoulders dramatically. He looked nothing like his son.

A fierce warrior king, Larek embodied the many terrible, hard to believe legends about him. Some said he had demon blood—vampire, to be exact. According to one story, King Larek had been literally killed in battle many years ago. He had been slaughtered by a battle axe in a fierce fight with the king of the dark Elves. There had been numerous witnesses to the event, and though it had happened more than a hundred years ago, it was still talked about only in whispers. It had taken place on the blood-drenched ground inside the Liminal somewhere in the far north. The battle had seen enormous losses on both sides, with the Dark Fairies being declared the winner at the end of it.

King Larek had been seen by many witnesses to receive fatal wounds that should have been impossible to survive, yet he had somehow managed to stand back up on his feet from the bloody ground and take up his sword again. At the end of the battle, he climbed back on his horse unaided and rode back to his territory to reign over his people for another hundred years. He was still apparently going strong.

Apparently, the only way for a vampire to die was by having his head completely severed. Or by burning him to ashes in a fire. He wasn’t fully vampire, but he must have been close enough.

The chair to his right was vacant and waiting for Bracca, no doubt. No accommodation had been made for me, so I took an empty chair on the end, next to one of the men who I assumed made up Larek’s council. I saw Bracca glance over at the beautiful Fairy woman and give her a nod as we sat down.

“You brought the boy, I see.” Larek said without preamble and without any greeting.

“Of course. He’s my intended consort now. Not to mention he’ll be the new Elf king. I thought the council needed to meet him.”

Larek grunted and murmured something I didn’t catch. Bracca frowned at what he said, though, and glanced over at the Elven woman.

“Fiona, it’s nice to see you again. How are you?”

“I’m well, my love. Though it seems my services are no longer needed. His Majesty had me here in case your boy balked at marrying you and sleeping with a male. Mortals don’t always do that, you know. At least not publicly. If he hadn’t agreed to try with you, I was to be pressed into service.”

“From what I understand,” I said, interrupting them and looking first at her and then around the table at the others pointedly. They looked as surprised as if a piece of the furniture had spoken up. “I’m not mortal, and I outrank Prince Bracca, along with everyone else at this table, except for the king, so I don’t think you should call me his ‘boy.’ In fact, I believe you should address me by the title, ‘Your Majesty,’ as I am supposed to be the true king of the Dokkalfar kingdom.”

She flushed and gave me a poisonous look, though she quickly tried to hide it by dropping her eyes respectfully.

“Of course. Your Majesty, then…I-I meant no offense.”

Larek was frowning at me. “Bracca has informed you of our plans?”

“Yes. He told me he wished to marry me so he can control my kingdom.”

The king raised an eyebrow. “Yourkingdom?” He gave a short laugh. “Very well, then. Are you saying you don’t object?”

I stared back at him coldly. I was surprised to find I didn’t fear him. What was he going to do to me? Take my face and my name and my whole life away? Wait—he’d already done that.

“Would it matter if I did object?”

Bracca shook his head. “Stop it, Killian. Don’t make the king lose his temper.” He turned then to his father and smiled in a conciliatory way. “I’m sorry, sire, but Killian is fatigued from our journey, so please excuse him. He doesn’t object to the marriage at all, and that’s why we’re here. To discuss a date. I want this done as soon as possible. As early as tomorrow, if you’re agreeable.”

I gave Bracca a sharp look, but didn’t say anything and Larek nodded.

“Is this true?” he asked, looking straight at me.

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