Page 145 of Shadow Queen
Soren pulled another arrow from the barrel and held it for him, silent.
But he didn’t take it. “I need you.”
Soren’s head snapped toward him. “Me?” His brows came together.
Mikael lowered the end of his bow to the ground and leaned on it like a staff. He needed its support. “I can’t give her a child.” He paused—an agonizing, gutting pause. “I need you to give her your seed.” Then he waited—an agonizing, gutting wait—giving Soren a moment to think about what he was asking.
Perhaps it was only a moment, but it felt like eternity. Then Soren shook his head, stepping backward. “No,” he said. “No, I can’t. She’ll not have me.”
“She will. We’ve discussed it. You’re the only one I trust… with this, with my kingdom…” Mikael’s voice cracked, and his eyes filled with emotion. “With my wife.” He sank to his knees. “I know what I ask of you, but I beg you.”
Soren lunged forward, grabbing him and pulling him back up. “No, get up. Get up!” Mikael got to his feet, and Soren let him go before leaning his own frame up against the arrow barrels.
They stood in silence for a long time. Too long. Worry sprouted in the pit of Mikael’s stomach. He had been confident Soren would agree, but this was the most personal thing he’d ever asked from him. Had he reached Soren’s limit?
Soren rubbed his face roughly with his hand. “She agrees to this?”
Relief flooded him, but it was short-lived. Nothing about this situation brought relief. Mikael couldn’t speak, but he nodded.
Soren forced out a breath. He gritted his teeth as he broke an arrow. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me,” he said finally.
Mikael sighed heavily. He had been certain of it, but the words still brought a wave of emotion. He gave it a moment to pass. “I haven’t thought through all the—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Soren cut him off. “Just tell me where to be, and when.”
Mikael was grateful. He didn’t want to talk about it either. He nodded.
They looked over the field as an icy breeze blew through. Soren held out another arrow.
Norah shoved a slice of marinated meat into her mouth, overly fixating on her food. Salara-Mae sat to her left, closer to her than Mikael, and across the table from Soren, who positioned himself more in the center. At the opposite end of the long table sat Mikael. This was their normal way of things, but dinner was anything except normal now.
Mikael had told her Soren had agreed. She cursed herself for not thinking of waiting to ask until the time of need. Now came the agonizing awkwardness of having to look at him, having to speak to him, knowing he knew what was to come.
Soren sat quietly, as he normally did, but it was a different kind of quiet—a troubled quiet. And he avoided looking at her, as he normally did, but it was a different kind of avoidance. He drained his blood bowl in large swallows. She almost wanted to offer him more if it would make him feel better. Would it make him feel better? Perhaps she might try it. Then the retching and upheaving would take her mind off things for a while.
She focused her attention on the plate in front of her, trying not to think about any of it. She wasn’t sure how many dinners like this she could endure. And surely after, it would only be worse. She wouldn’t be able to face him. Her cheeks burned at the thought ofafter—the shame threatened to melt her in her chair.
A servant stepped into the dining hall and quickly moved to Mikael, holding a letter in his hand. “This just arrived, Salar.”
A small breath escaped her. Thank the gods there was something else to occupy her attention.
Mikael took it from him, and the servant departed. He glanced at Norah before he broke the seal and opened it. She didn’t recognize the seal—bright yellow with a symbol she couldn’t make out from the opposite side of the long table.
The line on his brow deepened as he read it. “From Surat in Kolkar,” he said.
Norah had no idea who or where that was.
“He sends news that the kingdom of Rael has overthrown Serra.” He tossed the letter to Soren.
Serra, Norah knew—that was the slavers’ kingdom. Good riddance. But Rael… where had she heard of Rael? She searched her mind. It had been quite some time… “Wait, the usurper?” she asked. Her council had been upset the king of Rael had been usurped, if she remembered correctly.
The faintest hint of amusement came to Mikael’s face. “Where did you hear that?”
She shrugged. “Mercia, some time ago, I think. Is it correct?”
Soren grunted but didn’t say anything.
“It doesn’t surprise me that the North looks at the Raelean king as a usurper,” Mikael replied. “Rael’s old king converted to the religion of the North, converted most of his kingdom, actually.”
