Page 83 of Nightingale

Vrea didn’t dare to move, didn’t dare to look at Eamin who furiously glowered at the male, his ear covered in linen from a provoked attack that he refused to share the details on. Imogen had happily filled her in, laughing about how fearful her brother had looked, how threatening and powerful Rian had been.

An approval, not that it was required, had been granted.

Rian scanned the dais, searching every face until he found hers and the corner of his mouth lifted, in a barely perceptible smile.It made him appear roguish, as if nothing could keep them apart. It only furthered her desire for him to leave, to get out of here. Something she’d shared with Imogen before the scream ripped through Vasthold and her friend went to check it out before Vrea stood at her mother’s door.

When Imogen returned, smirking like the cat who stole the finest cream, she’d elucidated that she left the door unlocked. Not that she’d told Rian, whilst the other guards were at her side.

But if he’d only tried, only tested his bounds, he would have been able to leave. To sneak out and return home. Unhurt. Alive. Not a slave.

“Prince RianCillian EzraMoordian, sixth heir and fifth son of Carylim, you stand here after releasing Princess Vrea Ianira Greenvass, delivering her across the perilous mountain pass, facing off the Blackleg Spiders and returned her to her rightful home, here in Niroula.” Casta broadened her voice, calling out for the members of the court, the guards that had gathered to bear witness to a historical event.

Her brothers all took up their designated thrones. She did not, hovering at the front.

Near the silver collar that had been brought up from the dungeons, the thick metal carved for a chain to be joined, if one was required.

“Is that all?” He had the audacity to ask as the men forced him to his knees, arms stretched behind him. “I’m glad someone was keeping track. It was a little hard to do so on the road, fighting to stay alive and all that. I think you missed the bandits however.”

“Is that all.” Teminos snorted, sliding down in his seat as amusement filled in the panels of his face, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he crossed one leg over the other and bounced it. “This is going to be wonderful.”

Vrea slapped the bottom of his boot, glaring at him to remain quiet. He gestured towards the kneeling male, as if she’d missedsomething hilarious.

“If you wish to remain alive, then you’ll hold your tongue.” Their mother reprimanded and laced her fingers together in front of her gown. “Your sentence has been decided upon, thanks to the testimony of Princess Vrea.”

Rian turned his gaze to her, lashes brushing his eyebrows. “Has it now?”

Softly, curiously, tenderly.

There was a clog in the back of her throat, one that refused to lodge free, one that she couldn’t get rid of. He’d hate her for this, for making him her slave. But she’d have two years to figure something else out. To free him and make him leave. And in those two years, she could be patient.

Casta confirmed, “It is to her, you owe your appreciation.”

A mischievous glint appeared in his wide set of eyes, one that Vrea knew far too well. One that conveyed that he’dappreciate herall night long, in token of his thanks if that’s what it took. Though, he’d enjoy it too, if she knew him well enough.

“As well as her mercy, that allows you to live. Originally, that was not the case.” The Queen continued without pause. She did not falter. “For the next two years, you will follow in the footsteps of every Carylimian who has entered through Vasthold.”

He gave nothing away, nothing she could read through his golden skin. No anger, no expectancy, nothing. It only worsened her storm of emotions.

“Let me guess.” Rian shuffled, auburn hair moving with him as he used his chin to point towards the bare throne next to Teminos, the one that held a silver collar on it. “That’s meant for me.”

“Yes.” Casta said. “You will be bound to Vrea. For the next two years, you will be in her service, following her every whim and wish, until otherwise decided. Throughout those years, yourdeath can still occur. You will be stripped of your title, of anything that Carylim and its King has bestowed upon you. You will cast off all your names, keeping the first and only one from this day forth.”

She took up the place on her throne, the largest of them all and perched daintily on the end.

The hair on the back of her neck, her arms prickled as Eamin let a cruel smile stretch from ear to ear. Alpheus cracked his knuckles besides him, rotating his head until acracksounded from either side. Even Malik looked mildly interested in the initiation events that would occur as soon as the collar was placed around Rian’s neck.

“I think I’d prefer a wedding band to that thick thing.” Rian jested, winking up at her and her heart stuttered. “I’m even on my knees already, if that helps persuade you.”

He couldn’t help it.

But there, before them all, he’d shared his plan.

To marry her, to combine the Kingdoms and create a reason for peace, just as he’d promised. Vrea couldn’t believe it, doubting her own ears. A hummed ringing filled them.

“I’d kill you before you’d be able to pull a ring from anywhere.” Eamin shot out of his seat. “If you think I’d ever let a Moordiandogsully my sister, then you have another thing coming.”

Alpheus stood next, following in his sibling’s footsteps. “Daring to insinuate that you’d bind yourself to her inthatway, is bold. Arrogant, and dangerous if you consider it in its entirety.”

Teminos continuously bounced his leg, refusing to rise from his seat in a furious fashion like their siblings, “I find it fascinating, actually. Curious to know how such a thing would work.”

Casta flicked her hand out, silencing them all. “My word is the law, until another is on my throne, wears my crown.” Sheturned a sly look in Vrea’s direction. “But that has not happened yet. Rian Moordian, do you accept our terms, or accept a swift death?”

He opened his mouth, and the doors flew open once again. They all looked up from him, to the figure that casually strolled down the steps one at a time in a relaxed way, tapping down the hall as if he owned the place. To the very last person that Vrea ever expected to see in Vasthold, let alone Niroula.

As Castil Moordian entered the hall with a cruel smile.

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