Page 39 of Ashborne Phoenix

“I am not—”

“Any undeserving man,” the woman corrected herself, glaring at Breckon.

“You accuse me of—”

“Oh, shut up, Breckon,” the king muttered. “If you possess the ballsack of power, you’ll get her first. Nothing changes. We only delay to be certain we don’t lose anyone of power.”

The gaze that crackled between the two of them was chilling. The king warned, and Breckon bristled. But the Lord couldn’t argue before the entire court, no matter how much he might wish to. As if he, too, had just remembered the audience, Breckon pursed his lips and looked around, scowling. “I am the king’s servant,” he muttered reluctantly. “But Sire, please… what of this evening’s festivities? And this wait? I want to be certain this is not a plot to give another man access to her.”

“I would offer my service, Your Majesty,” the Lady Ashford said smoothly. Breckon rounded on her, but she spoke to the king with a gleaming gaze that made my arms prickle. “I agree with the Lord that a young, naïve woman should not be entrusted into the hands of men. She would be overcome by their worldly wisdom within days. The other ladies are, of course, ample chaperonage—but I fear any of this court may be enticed to interference. And we cannot expect the queen to give up days of her busy life to the guarding of a lady. So, I offer myself as an objective overseer. I possess the power, the solitude, and the time to keep eyes on her at all times,” she said, with a much deeper curtsey. “I assure you both, she will never leave my sight.”

And the steel in her tone, the utter certainty, chilled my blood.

~ VOSKI ~

I stood at the back of the gathered crowd, pressed to the wall where none would look, all of their attention firmly fixed on the players at center stage before the carpeted dais. I nursed blistering rage at my mother for changing the plan without warning me—what the fuck was she thinking, warning Breckon instead of letting him be harmed?

But her sheer audacity never ceased to amaze me. And I couldn’t deny the clever way she cornered Breckon before handing him his own ass.

Then the men spoke of testing the baby, and even when that horrendous idea was set aside—I knew the rite required for that test, and I would die before allowing Grace to endure it—I trembled with unspent rage. Then Breckon spoke of killing the child and starting again. I almost plowed through the crowd. I’d already intended to ensure Grace was at my side within hours, but now I vowed she wouldn’t leave this room with him.

He knew he hadn’t gotten her pregnant. With this threat, he’d do everything in his power to ensure she bled.

I gave one last sweeping gaze to the room, assessing the exits, the number of bodies between us, and what I could use to turn everyone’s eyes aside while I drew Grace into the walls. But then Mother’s obsequious words reached my startled ears. Suddenly she was the king’s servant?

“I assure you both, she will never leave my sight.”

Of course. Mother was angling for her control. Not mine.

She would keep me from publicly claiming Grace, because once I did, her power was at risk from mine. I wanted to roar at Mother that if she successfully withdrew Grace from this room I’d make her blood flow. But then…

“Both she and any progeny must be kept safe—I will take her under my wing. Keep her hidden from all. Once she’s bled, or the father identified, all of us may reconvene for the wedding, and watch the blood ignite in preparation for a future we can only imagine.”

I froze, torn. So… she was doing what she’d said she would do? Preparing them to accept me and Grace as Pairs? But, no. I reminded myself, this was Mother. She never offered her efforts to anything that didn’t benefit her. And while the others in this room might not understand how much interest she’d taken in this wedding, or why, they knew she was the Dominus. And her power, extended toward any Cruor or their family, meant there was something to be gained. That fact alone would make them look twice at Grace.

“Very well,” the king agreed impatiently. “But neither of you leaves the castle—”

“Of course, Sire!”

“Absolutely not! She will simply abscond with the girl!” Breckon spluttered.

“What is it you believe I’d do with her, Rupert?” Mother asked in a tone dripping with derision.

The gathered nobles—all of them Cruors—tittered and whispered.

Yet, while the king shot Breckon a dark look, he also heeded the words.

“Let the messengers be sent to inform all: The castle grounds will be closed for these days of waiting. We will all spend our time in contemplation and prayer. And when it is over, one way or another, we will come together again.”

I could only see Grace’s profile past the heads of the nobles between us, but her jaw flexed and I shoved reassurance through the bond. She still struggled to speak in the link and remain listening to what was said around her. I didn’t want her to miss any of this.

My mother beamed. “You are, as always, so wise, Sire.”

Burk wasn’t impressed. “I will not entertain any further dramatics. If either of you receives information that you believe would change the course of events, you come to me personally. We will not litigate these details before an audience again,” he snapped.

“Of course, Sire,” Mother said with another bobbing curtsey, while Breckon muttered something agreeable, despite the daggers in his eyes.

Mother began to turn to Grace, but the king spoke again. “Hear me, Ava. If she doesn’t bleed within a handful of days, you do whatever it takes to identify the father,” he said darkly. “And if the babe is powerless, you kill it.”