“The hell I do.” My eyes jerked up to meet his as his hands closed around mine. “You’ll wear it forever, Pippin. The general wanted it replaced with a royal heirloom, but I made clear that will not stand.” The mask was slipping. His ragged tone gave voice to my own pain as well as his. “You’ll keep it on your bloody hand so I can look at it each time you’re forced to stand before the people and perform your role as queen and know… and know…”
“Know that I’m still yours?”
My voice was thin, like a little girl’s, as his hands slammed down against the wall beside my head.
“You’ll always be mine.” I needed to hear that so very much. “But you’re Soren’s and Ged’s and Flynn’s too, and there’s no legal bond to tie you to them. Instead, you have to wake up and choose them every single day. The general is aware of our situation. Doesn’t approve of it, but there’s a lot he’s turned a blind eye to in the past, so this will be no great burden for him. Sign the paperwork, when he requests an audience with you. Sign it to secure Draven’s claim to the throne. Let people believe you’re a dutiful and faithful queen.”
“I am,” I said.
“To him and him alone. That any child you bear.” I caught the shake in his hand, right before it settled on my stomach, the heat burning through the thin linen of my father’s shirt. “Is of Nithian blood, not Emberly or Skane or whatever the fuck Ged’s and Soren’s last names are. That he or she is his, not ours.”
He moved closer, a dark shadow, seductive as a night devil come to insinuate himself into my dreams.
“But we’ll know better. I can do this, Pippin, for you, for Draven, for the damned country.” His mouth hovered over mine, so close I could smell the beer on his breath. Suddenly it wasn’t so bitter, but sweet as summer wine. When his mouth moved, so did mine, caught up in some kind of spell. A small, sensible part of me was screaming something in my head, but the alcohol helped me silence it. “I think you’re strong enough to bear it, too.”
But I didn’t want to be, some part of me wanted to cry, and perhaps Brom sensed that. He was my commander, swooping in and silencing my complaints, making sure I followed orders, though I was willing to bet he didn’t try this strategy with the rest of the wing. A brush of his lips and I was following after them, wanting more.
“Brom, I?—”
“I’ll never stop wanting you, Pippin.” A kiss, another kiss, sending my head spinning. “In my heart, you will always be my wife. I swore before the gods that it would be you, only you.”
“And Draven.”
I froze in his grip, waiting for his response.
“Draven is a friend, a lover, a noose around my neck.” His words were pushed out between gritted teeth. “Sometimes I think I love and hate him in equal measure, but…” He shook his head. “The king was never going to be my husband. I never looked at him and imagined him wearing my ring one day, not like I did you.”
His hand stroked down my face.
“When the general announced to the wing commanders that the throne wanted you married off, it felt like my heart was going to leap out of my chest. When I spoke to you about this.” I remembered that now, when he’d taken me for a walk outside to inform me of the situation. He’d ended up standing in almost the same position as he did now, leaning into me. “When I dared hope you might consider me.” His brows creased, but it was due to something bittersweet rather than real pain. “I saw a future, one where you walked through the door of the chapel and towards me, where you chose me.” He shook his head. “What ended up happening was rushed, born from necessity rather than real feeling, so perhaps it's right thatthis marriage be dissolved. It was a ward of protection placed over you to keep Raina away.”
“You think I don’t still need that?” My hands went around his neck, glorying in the feel of his hair. “Raina may be dead, but countless other foes have stepped up to take her place. I don’t know if I can do this, Brom. The war, becoming queen…”
Whatever else I had to say was cut off by the alleyway door slamming open. A man and woman came stumbling out into the darkness, though they couldn’t see us, so caught up in each other as they were. She shoved him against the wall, pushing her hands up and under his leather jerkin, and I knew why.
To get to the man underneath the uniform. To strip him bare and see all of him. She made quick work of it too, undoing the toggles before making a small sound of satisfaction as she smoothed her hands across his chest, then dropped down to her knees.
“Lass…” he breathed. “Lass…”
Whatever protests he was going to make were cut off by her sucking his length in. No more verbal communication was possible beyond a low groan. His hips bucked as his hands went to her hair, bundling it up at the nape of her neck as he watched her suck him off.
“We should go,” Brom said in a low mutter.
“Why?”
If we went back inside, I’d have to pretend that signing those papers wouldn’t break my heart, that I was satisfied with our arrangement. I couldn’t see another way around it, but still. Logic didn’t rule us, just as I had told Soren, and so my heart made clear what it needed. I’d become a barmaid, serving drinks all day if in the evening they’d come to visit, pulling me onto their laps in front of everyone, if it meant they could claim me in front of everyone. I was weighed down by a crown I didn’t even want, and perhaps that’s why I did this.
His stomach muscles jumped as I slid my hand under his jerkin.
“Pippin—”
I went up on tiptoes and silenced him now with a kiss, because two could play at that game. Brom didn’t fight me all that hard.With the sounds of stranger’s love making in our ears, he plundered my mouth, forcing my lips to open, just like my heart had, and claimed all he found within.
“What would you do if you were just some soldier?” I whispered into his ear as he made a very thorough inspection of my neck with his mouth. “And I was just some lass.”
“But you’re not?—”
“Shh…”