Chapter 50

When King Nelan summoned Annalise to eat dinner with him in the great hall that evening, she refused on the grounds of recovering from the sudden news of her father’s death. Instead of worrying about any potential missteps in front of the court, once dinner was served in her room she dismissed Priscilla and Elsabeth and allowed herself a private moment to breathe.

After the guards had taken Soren away, she hadn’t heard a whisper about him. She could only hope he’d listened to her and was well on his way to leaving Rea to warn Dovea of what was coming.

Still though, the thought of being without him hurt like someone had cast her heart into the fire and left it to burn. She hadn’t realized how much she depended on his steady presence, or his ready smile, and now, when she felt at her lowest, Annalise would have given anything to simply be in the same room as Soren once again.

When she fell asleep, it was with cheeks still wet from tears.

The next morning she was fast asleep when a boom in the next room startled her awake. She was still disoriented and fumbling in the darkness when her bedroom door crashed open, a hulking dark figure blocking the way out. 

“Good morning, darling. I hope you slept well after rejecting my summons last night,” Nelan sneered. He took three long steps into her room and loomed over the foot of her bed. Just beyond the door, Annalise heard the distressed cries of her lady’s maids and mocking laughter of several guards. She clutched her blankets to her chest and blinked up at Nelan, her brain moving far too slowly to come up with a suitable response. 

He smiled at her discomfort. “I see that my presence has struck you dumb. Good, maybe you’ll actually listen to what I say this time considering you didn’t yesterday when we spoke: any disobedience on your part will be met with retribution on mine. Now, I’ve been merciful and given you plenty of time to think about the precarious nature of the situation you’re in. Have you decided how much pain you’re going to inflict on your loved ones?” 

Annalise’s tongue finally loosened. “I have.” Nelan’s eyebrow quirked, and her voice gained strength. “In fact, I would like to offer you a counterproposal.” 

“Brave for a woman who is currently sitting in front of me in only her nightgown and whose maid still sports a black eye yesterday from her disobedience. Lucky for you, I’m in a good mood, although I warn you that if you irritate me I make no guarantee as to my reaction to your proposal.” 

“I promise this is one that you’ll appreciate.” Annalise drew a deep breath and steeled herself for the plunge. She’d thought through what she would say, had examined it from all angles, but had known since her discussion with Soren the day before through the door that this was the only path she could take; if she tried to escape and anyone was hurt because of her, the guilt would haunt her for the rest of her life. “I’ll marry you and will do whatever you ask, but in return I request you let my maids and the Dovean guards of my retinue return to Dovea unmolested.”

Nelan leaned forward over the edge of her bed, his hands wrapping around the wooden posts holding up the canopy. “You’re asking me to let go of the very people who motivate you to remain in compliance. What do I have to gain from such a deal in which I lose the easiest leverage over you?”

“I give my word that from the moment we are declared husband and wife, I will be obedient to you. I know you may not think much of Dovean honor, but I assure you it is the last and only thing I have left to give. Plus, the distance between Rea and Dovea is no small thing. If I remain compliant and obedient, you will have one less thing to worry about as you turn your gaze west towards the Praxian threat.” 

Nelan thought for a moment, then shrugged as a slow smile spread across his mouth that made Annalise’s blood run cold as he stalked away, sat in a chair at the corner of her room, and leaned forward. “Your offer is most interesting; I never would have thought that a caged little bird like you would even dare to make a peep. You are continually surprising me, princess.” 

“So will you accept?” 

“As much as I would love to, there’s a little problem. It’s really the smallest thing in the grand scheme of things…” He trailed off and paused, as if for dramatic effect, his cold smile sending a shiver of fear down Annalise’s spine. “You see, Captain Kierson is dead.” 

The room wavered in front of her eyes, and she was grateful she was still in bed; otherwise, she knew she’d have collapsed to the ground. There was a noise—it sounded like words, but she couldn’t be sure. When she looked at Nelan, she could see his mouth moving and registered that sound was coming out, but his words were unintelligible. His brows drew together and his mouth continued to move as he half-rose from his chair, but Annalise was far too busy trying to figure out why the air around him darkened like the edges of a piece of paper tossed into a fire. 

“I’m sorry, I must not have heard you correctly–what did you just say?” She asked when she finally found her voice. 

“Captain Kierson is dead. He begged for an audience with me yesterday, and when I granted him one, attacked completely unprovoked.” Nelan held up his left forearm, which was wrapped in bandages. “I was able to fend him off, but my guards were not so gentle. In the end, he was put down like a mad dog.” 

“You lie.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I do such a thing? It’s no secret that he cared deeply for you. With the events of yesterday taken into consideration, is it so hard to believe that he snapped?”

“Soren would never.”

“And yet he did. I’d offer you the chance to see the body, but my guards were not gentle and hold no love for Doveans, and unfortunately there wasn’t much left that would be recognizable. I would have told you last night at dinner and given you the option to say your goodbyes to his corpse, but you weren’t there and my head butler sent it away this morning.” 

“But his burial…”

“He’ll be buried with the rest of the trash where he belongs.” 

“His father…his soul… how will the Goddess accept him without proper rites?” 

“I’m not a monster; a priest said the rites over his body yesterday. If the Goddess doesn’t accept him, well, then I suppose he wasn’t a good enough man to begin with. As for his father, I hear that High General Kierson is a pragmatic man. I’m sure he’s well used to losing loved ones in the heat of battle without having the chance to say goodbye.” 

The blood drained from Annalise’s face as the news sunk in, and she collapsed back into her pillows as the impossibility of the situation hit her like a warhorse. 

Nelan remained in the corner of the room. Even through the haze of grief that had descended over her mind like a black veil, Annalise noted that he wore long gloves, pants, and a high-collared tunic. He was obviously being cautious considering her curse and the news he delivered. “Your remaining Dovean guards are out on a joint-training exercise with some of my men and are due back the day after our wedding. If you still wish to make your deal for the lives of your maids and whatever Dovean guards are left, I will honor it.” 

“Yes, of course,” Annalise said automatically, mind too busy reeling from the news about Soren to truly process anything else. 

“Excellent. I’ll inform General Anar, and he’ll arrange for a protective guard after the wedding.” 

After Nelan left, Annalise stared up at the ceiling. Elsabeth and Priscilla entered her room, asking if she was okay, but Annalise couldn’t bring herself to respond. Her grief threatened to swallow her whole. The possibility of Soren dying, of his bright life being snuffed out far too soon, didn’t feel real. 

Long after the sun rose fully, shining its bright rays into the room, she stirred herself. No matter how hard she tried, Annalise couldn’t wrap her mind around Soren being dead, but she could, at least, recognize that his death made things much easier for her. 

She’d prepared herself long ago to assume the role of sacrificial lamb, but she wouldn’t allow Nelan to sacrifice her men and her country. Judging by the distance he kept while delivering her the news of Soren’s death, he was still wary of her curse. 

As he should be. 

If he insisted on a wedding, then a wedding they would have. Annalise had made up her mind. She’d agreed to be totally obedient to him after their wedding, but there was much that could happen before, especially for someone who carried a curse as she did. 

She would not allow him to take control of her country, and she would have her revenge for Soren’s death.

She would kill Nelan.