Page 86 of The Warrior
“Do you want me to kiss them better?” Finn teased.
“No thank you. I just want my tea.”
“Okay, but drink up because we have to leave soon.” Finn turned to Tristan. “Did you tell your mom that we might be gone a few days?”
Tristan nodded. “I’m on it.”
“Laura, we could give you a ride. My hybrid is a lot faster than the drone you arrived in.”
I looked down, plucking invisible dust from the blanket. “I’m not sure that I’m ready to go back yet.”
“Why not?” Finn asked.
“Magni and I had a big fight.”
“So what? I have fights with him all the time.”
“I got really mad at him, and I said some mean things.”
“Don’t worry about it. You won’t find anyone more loyal than Magni. He might be pissed at you, but he still wants you to come back.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“A thousand percent.”
Athena smiled at me over the rim of her teacup. “Not so long ago, you stood up to Magni calling yourself a warrior. You were brave enough to volunteer to chase down dangerous men before they hurt innocent people. I can’t imagine someone as courageous as you would be scared of going back to face Magni, just because you had a fight with him.”
“Of course I’m not scared,” I lied, but the truth was that I was terrified that I had pushed Magni too far this time.
Finn clapped his hands together with a self-satisfied expression. “Great, then it’s settled. You’re coming back with us.”
CHAPTER 22
Bitches
Magni
We were nine men in the room, eight of them older than me and friends of my father. Being rich and influential, these men were used to getting their way.
Some of them I hadn’t seen in years, but a few of them had met with me and Khan recently. It was hard to shake their hands when I thought about the way they had sucked up to my brother calling him the best ruler in the history of the Northlands.
With large glasses of whiskey, and the pretense of a card game, we waited until my mother and all the waiters had left the room.
“We all know why we are here,” Mr. Zobel began. “Every one of us is concerned about the current political situation, and we want change.”
I met the eyes of the eight men sitting around the round table. They looked serious, like me.
“Mr. Zobel tells me that you would prefer me as the ruler. Is that true?” I confronted them.
They all nodded.
“What changes would you like to see? Be specific.”
Sheldon Grant, a man around seventy, leaned back and folded his arms across his fat belly. “There’s no need to beat around the bush. I’m old and like to be in bed by ten.” His comment made the others laugh. “Khan has been sucked in by his new bride. All her talk about humanism and kindness is sickening. Our forefathers refused to be ruled by women andso shall we.” His last three words were emphasized with his head nodding three times. “I don’t want to hear talk about integration. The only way for our two countries to unite would be when the women bow to our male superiority.”
“Hear, hear.”
Empowered by the others’ support, Sheldon kept going. “We are the elite. Not many in this country have married like we have. That means we are the few who can testify to what women are truly like. They have foolish notions, are irresponsible, and have the intellect of children. They should never be allowed to make important decisions for themselves or others.” He looked at me. “Your wife is a good example with her thoughtless and selfish behavior.”
