Page 85 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
The mark dips below the leather at his hips.
I suck in air. “You’re the new Storm King.”
Alaric smiles a small, infinitesimal smile, his lids fluttering as though the words are impossibly sweet. He dumps his undershirt over the jacket and sits back down.
“But why hide it? Your girl—Tatiana, right?—she’ll change her tune fast once she knows.”
His jaw flexes. “I’m in uncharted territory. My brothers…they obey, but only because they have no other choice. I have to be careful with how I play my hand. The mark didn’t come, itstruck. I haven’t entirely recovered. I’m vulnerable, and now that the chalice is no more, they might think they’re next in line and try to kill me to steal my crown.”
“And you’re tellingme? A prisoner?”
“You’re my guest, remember?” He leans close, the scent of pinesap soap tangled with char rising from his burnt skin. “If not my brothers, then Luther and Maddox Storm will come for me. Ineed to get my affairs in order before they realize who wears the crown. I need to marry as soon as possible.”
I can understand his rationale for wanting to marry. It’ll solidify his power and influence.
Before the destruction of the Eternal Chalice, someone chosen by the gods to rule—like Alaric—would have been reviewed by the seven crowns. A period of about ten days would have been set aside for official challengers to come forward before the new king was anointed and allowed to claim the magics of his lands.
With that ritual came the reveal of their full name. Names and magic go hand in hand, so for a king to rule over his peers, he had to reveal the entirety of his name. Once the challenge period ended and the seven crowns stood behind a new king, that vulnerability no longer mattered.
Now that the chalice is gone, things are different. Anyone could convince themselves they’re next in line and try to use that knowledge to tip the scales in their favor.
“That’s where you come in,” he adds, sitting back down.
I fight to keep a straight face.
This completely shifts the outlook of our escape from Deiltine. Alaric is king, and even if he’s green, wounded, and hasn’t figured out the kinks of his new powers, he’s now the most powerful being in Storm’s End. The end-blade he just confiscated was the only weapon that could’ve harmed him—our one shot at leveling the field, and now it’s gone.
A bone-deep fear shivers through me. He could do anything. With me. With Seth. There’s no court to answer to, no higher power looming over his shoulder. He’s no longer just a charming predator playing at power. He has it. And I’m not a guest. I’m a hostage wrapped in chiffon, with no way out but through him.
“I need a favor,” he says, voice soft, almost thoughtful, as he trails a finger along the rim of his wineglass. “Tatiana will attendthe ball tomorrow with her father. If she can’t love me, then I want her to agree to marry me.”
“And if I succeed?” I ask, keeping my voice cool. “Will you let me go?”
He leans in again, his breath warm and sea salted. “Yes. I notice you didn’t mention Seth. Not once. Don’t you want to know if he’s still alive?”
I tilt my chin higher. “I’m good.”
A hint of approval warms his eyes. I pray he doesn’t hear my wild heartbeats.
“Then tell me. Who were you supposed to kill?” he asks.
“Luther Storm. Seth’s mission to broker peace with the rebels was only a way to get me near his brother, but he has no idea,” I breathe, lacing my words with smugness.
Alaric whistles. “Oh, I’m almost enamored with you, Lady Eros.” He rubs the arch of his brow back and forth. “If you succeed with Tatiana, I’ll allow the both of you to go on with your mission, so you can kill my competition, and break Seth’s heart in the process.”
My smile doesn’t falter. “I’m going to need some supplies…”
“Supplies? Are we talking about love arrows or witchcraft?”
I shrug. “Do you care?”
He holds my gaze for a moment, and I wonder if I’ve revealed too much, but he finally mirrors my nonchalance. “No. Get me Tatiana, that’s all I want.”
“You have a deal. This way I can finish my mission. With Luther dead, the seven crowns will find it easier to secure peace and stability across the Continent—and you’ll be the uncontested king of Storm’s End.”
It might be a little much, but in my experience, buttering up a Fae King is never done in vain.
Alaric laughs, and the sound mirrors the rumble of thunder teasing the horizon. “Careful, Lady Eros. Keep talking like that, and I might decide to marry you instead.”
