The Forsaken King

“You would be a Rolfe, so I’d trust you not to betray me in Delacroix. Our souls would be bound forever.”

“Huntley…you could never get married again.”

“I know.”

“And that means…I can’t marry someone else…someday.”

He stared.

“It’s…it’s a big deal.”

“That’s why it would protect us both.”

“But can you really do that?” I asked. “Share your soul with someone…for convenience?”

His stare continued. “All I know is, I have to protect you, and I have to protect myself too.”

“To sleep with you is one thing…but to marry you… That makes things so complicated. You want to overthrow my father and kill him. You want to remove Rutherford from his throne and take his place, just to forsake everyone down here all over again. I don’t support your politics, and I never will.”

“You could always object—since you’d be my queen.”

My eyes hardened at the realization. “Then I object.”

“What are your terms?”

This had quickly turned into a negotiation rather than a marriage proposal. “We defeat Necrosis.”

He gave a loud sigh.

“The problem will persist until they’re defeated.”

“Or everyone dies in the attempt.”

“Do you want to be a king for the sake of being a king? Because you’re power hungry and egotistical like everyone else? Or do you actually want to make this world a better place? What kind of man do you want to be?”

He gave me his hard stare.

“Because if we’re husband and wife, we have to be in agreement—about everything. If I’m going to help you remove my father from power, it has to be for a good reason. It has to be worth the betrayal. It has to benefit everyone in this fucked-up world.”

He considered my words for a long time before he gave a nod. “Alright.”

All my muscles tightened in disbelief. “Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Then I have another condition.”

His stare remained.

“You can’t kill my father.”

A bolt of lightning streaked across his face, the anger exploding in a rush.

“You can imprison him. You can punish him. But…you can’t kill him.”

“No.”

“Huntley—”

“I said no.”

“He’s my father—”

“He raped my mother and murdered my father. I will not spare him.”

“Then I won’t marry you.” I stepped back, my arms tightening over my chest.

He could barely speak, he was so angry. “After everything he did…you defend him.”

“I’m not defending him. He deserves punishment. He deserves imprisonment. But he’s my father…and it’s complicated. It’s just the way you felt for your mother when she was on her crazy tirade against me. It doesn’t matter what she does—she will always have your loyalty.”

“Unable to control her need for revenge is not the same thing as raping an innocent woman and making her son watch. How dare you compare the two—”

“I’m not comparing, okay? I’m just saying he’s my father. It’s one thing if you and your family tracked him down and killed him on your own, but if I’m going to help you make this happen…I can’t have his blood on my hands. You must understand that.”

“I wouldn’t do it in front of you—”

“But I will be instrumental in your success. Without me, it wouldn’t happen, and I can’t live with that guilt.”

His eyes shifted back and forth, livid.

“Take it or leave it.”

The breaths he took deepened, like his anger couldn’t be resolved by sheer will alone.

I held my ground.

He clenched his jaw before he gave a loud growl. “Fine.”

“Promise me.”

His eyes were so callous. He’d never looked at me like that before.

“I want your word—”

“I promise.”

A weight was lifted off my shoulders, my guilt assuaged. “Then…I’ll marry you.”

We returned the boat to the outpost then continued on our way through the wilderness. Our horses were where we’d left them, fully fed and rested while we’d sailed across the sea, and we rode them back through the cold.

Huntley dismounted and walked his horse in hot spots, places where we had an increased chance of crossing paths with Plunderers. But the rest of the time, we rode hard, desperate to get back to HeartHolme after our long journey.

We slept together every night, but that was all we did, sleep.

And we didn’t talk about the marriage.

How would that even go?

On the third day, we approached HeartHolme, the enormous stone gates opening once they recognized our dots on the plains. The horses trampled the wild flowers and weeds along the way, avoiding small rocks that could break their legs and jumping over larger rocks entirely.

I hadn’t been an experienced long-distance horse rider before this, but now I certainly was.

We made it through the gates to the stables, and the men moved to retrieve the horses and remove their saddles. It was a little warmer surrounded by the walls and the rock than out in the open, and I envisioned that soft bed waiting for me, right in front of the warm fireplace.

Huntley spoke to his men before he came to me. “Come on.”

I matched his stride and moved farther into the city, up the slight incline toward the castle at the top. “Now what?”