Page 178 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

Unless…

“It’s not real.” My attention bounced from the paper to Jasper to the crowd and back. “One of Maksym’s illusions. I didn’t sign it.”

Jasper said nothing, just shook his head.

I hadn’t expected Malakai to speak up.

“An illusion that didn’t disappear when he was shot down? Like his other did?” A pitying look settled on the shifter lord’s face. “I can commiserate with a heat-of-the-moment decision, Your Majesty, but that ink is as real as we all are.”

My throat worked as I tried to swallow down the lump that was choking me.

It did not help that Malakai half-bowed and added, “You have the hand of the tribes as you need it. We serve our queen with the utmost pride and loyalty.”

All I could do was shake my head.

This was wrong. All of it.

There may have been many things I questioned my memory of since I’d arrived in Grimmoria, but I never signed a goddess-damned marriage certificate. Maksym and I were not married. We had a fucking bargain marked into our flesh about it, after all, and the Agōn Ferr was far from over. But the Elixia and Lords in the tent didn’t seem panicked that their king had just been shot down over the enemy, putting on a display I couldn’t fathom the purpose of.

“If those filthy Odessans want her, I say we fucking give her back,” a voice spat from across the table. “I’ll throw her over myself.”

Not just any voice. It was Soteris, who’d nearly killed me in our match.

“Yeah!” came another shout. “We don’t want half-breed scum for a queen.”

“Watch your fucking mouths,” Jasper barked.

Little good it did.

The tent broke out into a rumble of shouts and fingers pointed in every fucking direction—but mainly mine. The uneasy tension of old memories I’d been grappling with on and off for days was clawing its way up my spine again and had my palms damp.

I was not their queen.

And I wasn’t responsible for any of what was happening, despite the accusations being slung across the table with the viciousness of blades. There was no part of this I had ever asked for, and I couldn’t even get reassurance from Jasper when he was too busy shouting profanities back across the table.

A gust of wind whipped at my back, sending loose hair kicking up around my face, and I glanced back to find Gallan striding into the tent with his hands full as some of the arguing settled.

Thank the goddess.

“You’ll be a voice of reason, won’t you?” I wasn’t above begging as he came to stand beside me, setting a jar and some cloth on the planning table. “I didn’t sign this.”

Despite my repeated tapping of the half-curled-up contract, Gallan said nothing. He didn’t even look at me, either. The Umbrite just nodded absently as he pulled a scarf up over his mouth and nose.

“Gallan…?”

Nothing.

He uncorked the jar he’d brought with clear liquid in it, set a bundle of cloth overtop, and tipped the jar to wet it. It looked like fucking water, and the preposterousness of him being occupied with cleaning anything had my jaw slack.

“Really?” I said as he sealed the jar again. “I’m fucking filthy too, Gallan. This blood isn’t even mine, but we’ve got⁠—”

He moved so goddess-damned fast.

From beside me to at my back, faster than I blinked, Gallan’s arm banded around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides and crushing my body back against him. Panic flared in me as I noticed so critically late that everyone else had backed away.

Including Jasper.

“Someone tell me what the fuck is going on!” I shouted, squirming with all my might, but my oldest friend averted his gaze as Gallan clamped the cloth over my nose and mouth. The bitter liquid flooded my senses and made my eyes burn, and I tried to hold my breath. I threw my elbows back against the pillar of Gallan’s body too.