Jessamine
Darrock's not speaking to me.
I shouldn't feel terrible. We did have an agreement not to butt into each other's affairs. He beds whoever, and I do whatever I want. Yet, I feel guilty. My gaze keeps darting to him throughout the gathering, even if the Alphas are practically hounding me with questions and queries.
I can't concentrate. It's hard, too hard to focus on anything after this morning. All I can think of is Kier in my hands and Darrock's face right after.
"How do we trust the Alpha King with our men? It is not unlike his blood to betray us. We cannot all march to war. We have provinces to rule over. Who is to lead our army and being them back in one piece?" Alpha Laif asks, his eyes like the color of overripe oranges narrowing at me. "Efficient as the princess may be, she is no warrior."
He says efficient as an insult, and it hits too close to home after what happened recently.
I bare my teeth at him. "How about we duel? You and I? No weapons? No oversized sack of balls and ego?"
His complexion pales for a split second, before he turns to the rest of the council. "You see the way she speaks and thinks. Her pride with get our men killed."
Father shoots me a sharp look of disapproval, the corners of his lips twisting further into a frown. He is displeased with me. I feel heat sting my cheeks and my heartbeat slows as I try to reiterate, but Alpha Ferin is already speaking.
"I will not entrust my men to a novice with no battlefield experience."
I swallow. It's not like I want to go or fight. I'd much prefer to stay in my chambers and do nothing. Maybe paint my nails again and have those tea parties that I absolutely despise.
But I will not balk from my responsibilities. "Experience is not limited to the battlefield. Leadership, strategy, and determination matter just as much. I've studied the art of war extensively, and I can say without doubt that--"
"You do not speak in absolutes on things you know nothing of," Luna Lyra hisses, her wrinkled fingers digging into the wood. She's filling in for her mate today and I already want her gone from here.
"Have you considered that perhaps, the Neredian King seeks our downfall? If this is a ploy with the enemy to half our numbers and strike when we least expect it?" Alpha Riven murmurs, not with heat, but it does nothing to rid the growing tension in the air.
"Kier would never do something like that. He is a fair, just king. He can be trusted," I say without thinking.
Darrock glances at me then, long, hard and intense. His maroon eyes search mine for something--I'm unsure what--and I feel the edges of my mind and confidence fray. Then he looks away, flicking a dagger playfully between his fingers with an empty expression that gives nothing away.
Yet, I want to hide under the table again.
The arguments continue for a time, and Father let's it play out without intervening. Darrock doesn't speak either. Or help me. I've dug a hole for myself, and now, I must pull myself out of it.
After several minutes of half-yelling, half-snapping, almost bawling, and giving diplomatic answers and excuses, a solution arises.
"The princess may lead, but not alone," Alpha Zaia finally says, after being silent for the most part of it.
Elder Draven nods his agreement, not quite speaking or looking at anyone.
I nod too and glance at my betrothed. "Darrock and I--"
Darrock stops playing with his dagger. "I have business by the sea. I will be unavailable."
My brows rise. He wanted to come with a day ago, had said he would bring it up in the council meeting. I can handle it myself, but knowing that Darrock would come along made me relieved. He has far more experience than I do and... he's my friend.
"Mikkel," Father speaks for the first time and the room falls silent. His chin rests on his fist as always, his rings glittering as he waves his free hand nonchalantly. "Your father was an excellent swordsman and strategist." Golden-silver locks float as he shifts, taking a few seconds before resting upon his shoulders again. "I wonder if you take after him."
Alpha Mikkel looks to be as young as I am. Brown hair, chestnut brown eyes with a slash dividing pupils equally, a resting smily face that I find creepy, and a very slim figure, almost feminine like. He looks like I could break him in two if I tried hard enough. He looks like he's never held a sword before.
His eyes narrow towards the table's head, still smiling for no reason, and he tilts his head at Father. "Some might say I'm more of a jester than I am a fighter."
Beta Bael snorts derisively, tapping his sword pommel, clearly in disagreement. "Modesty doesn't suit you, Mik."
Alpha Mikkel's smile only widens. His eyes narrow to slits as he looks at me, at my neck, a little red from Kier's touch half an hour ago. Then he winks like we're sharing a secret.
I don't like him.
"You will leave with Jessamine tomorrow," Father says.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, looking back at Darrock. He doesn't so much as look at us, that bored expression plastered to his face. My gaze travels back to my father, and I know better than to oppose him.
I sit through the rest of the meeting, glowering at nothing in particular.
The meeting comes to an end and I'm running past the bodies of guards and women suddenly flooding the hall in preparation for the revelry tonight--a celebration of some sorts before the approaching war.
My fingers grasp a tuft of Darrock's black sleeve and I pull him back so hard, he bumps into me. "What was that about?"
Darrock straightens, visibly flustered, but he's back to being a jerk again the next second. "Nothing," he responds coolly.
"What business do you have by the sea?"
He folds his arms across his chest. "Nagging me already and you're not even my wife yet."
"You said you would come with me. You bothered me enough about going with Kier alone and now you're conveniently unavailable? Is this about this morning? He didn't touch me--"
Red eyes glare at me and Darrock's lips curl up in disgust that isn't directed at me. "Could've fooled me."
"I-I mean...it didn't happen. We didn't--" I gesture with my hands, suddenly feeling embarrassed for no reason.
"Didn't what, Violet? You fell from the stairs and cut your lip? The fall tore your dress and strangled your neck? I didn't know you were so eager to die. Maybe I should have left you in that forest."
My skin flushes. "You're being a jerk right now. Why exactly are you mad? I saw the kitchen cook leaving your room last night."
He reaches out and touches my hair, traces the hollow of my cheekbones. "She came to borrow a book."
"A book?" I echo, and I stifle a chortle. "How can you say lie like that with a straight face? Do you keep recipe notes in your room now?"
Darrock shrugs, letting his hand fall from my face. "You would know if you came by." He deeps his hands in his pockets. "Mikkel will look after you in my absence."
I take a step forward. "I don't want Mikkel to look after me. I want you there, with me."
He looks down at me, his eyes soft. "Your father doesn't want me there. There's little I can do to fight against a direct order from him."
"I'll talk to him--"
Darrock cocks a brow. "Why? You don't hate me anymore? You choose me over Kier? What difference would my presence make? Quite frankly, I think I'd prefer spending my time over the shores than watch you fall in love with him all over again. I do not trust myself not to run him through if you so much as smile at him."
"I'm not falling in love with him."
He smiles softly. "Tell that to Kier and he might believe you because he is a fool and doesn't understand you. Your eyes never lie." He sighs. "I'll come for you when I return."
"When do you leave?" I ask, my throat tightening.
"After the revelry tonight." He suddenly lean in, pressing his lips against my cheek. His kiss burns, and my eyes close. "Promise me something, Violet."
I nod, falling forward into his warmth as he wraps his arms tightly around me. I don't know how to feel. Conflicted. It's not that I have feelings for him, but it's been months, and I've gotten used to having him with me. I'll miss him. I'll miss fighting with him. I'll miss his pathetic attempts at trying to seduce me and ending up thrown out of my window because he always chooses the oddest of times to try something funny. He's a jerk on most days. A jerk I like. He's an entitled prick of a man. But he's never pretended to be something he's not with me. It's something to appreciate in a place where everyone wants you gone or dead and pretends otherwise.
"Swear to me that you will not forget his indifference and betrayal. Cling to it fiercely, make him ache for it. Let him plead and weep as you once did. And if at any point during this trip, you decide he is worth your tears, write to me," he says, with a softness in his voice I am utterly unprepared for.
I pull back, staring in his eyes I've come to find unnervingly pretty. I wish I could feel for him what I feel for Kier. Perhaps, in time, when we get married. If we get married. "You're going to let me go, just like that?"
For a time, he says nothing. His fingers drift into my hair, and they are clever with each strand. He likes my hair.
A lazy grin forms on his lips a heartbeat later and his gaze sharpens into something cold and brutal. "No. When I do receive your message, I will ride for Neredia and challenge him to a duel. And then, I will kill him, because no one is worthy of you."
"And if he kills you instead?"
His laugh is low and rumbling. "He won't fight me for you. He's a thousand kinds of idiot."
I can't hide the anger his words elicit from me. Anger that he could be right, and nothing has changed with Kier.
Darrock lifts my chin and kisses the corner of my mouth slowly and intimately. I let him. "And if he does, then I suppose it'd have been worth it. Fighting for you. Amusing that, not so?"