Home > Books > King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(72)

King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(72)

Author:Scarlett St. Clair

He stood opposite, dressed in black, holding a small book. His surcoat was far more embellished, with a design embroidered all over in gold thread. Over the top, he wore a black fur vest and over that a collar of gold. He had pulled half his hair back, so that some fell in soft waves around his face. A black crown of spikes made him appear far more imposing.

I had dreaded this moment, facing him after asking him to leave last night. My chest felt heavy, full of a static that increased the longer I held his gaze, which took effort, because I did not want him to see how I felt. Even I did not know.

“Isolde,” he said.

“Adrian.”

We stared at each other, and before he could broach the subject of last night, I spoke.

“What do you expect of me?” I asked.

Adrian’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“During court. Am I merely an ornament to adorn the seat beside your throne? Because if that is the case, then I decline your invitation.”

Adrian set aside the book he had been reading and faced me fully.

“You make many presumptions, wife. Your presence by my side is not up for discussion, nor is it for show. You are my queen. I expect we will rule together, which means your participation during court.”

I blinked at him. “Does ruling together mean you will listen to me when I beg you not to continue invading the Nine Houses?”

Adrian said nothing.

“I thought not.”

“Isolde,” he said my name again, quiet and almost desperate. I didn’t like it. My sweet or Sparrow were far less personal than my actual name.

“Do not pretend to give me an equal say in the ruling of your land if it only extends to court politics.”

I whirled on my heels, intending to leave, but as soon as I touched the handle, Adrian’s hand covered mine. I turned my head slightly, only to find his lips hovered near. He stood close, but his body did not touch mine, and in that space, something like a current began to run between us. It took everything in my power not to lean into it.

“You are infuriating,” he said.

“You are the one who married me on a whim.”

“It wasn’t a whim. It was very much intentional.”

“You forgot to inform me,” I said.

Part of me knew how he would answer. There was something undeniable between us, something completely electric that even hate could not dissolve. It kept me rooted to the spot now, when I would usually fight to be free.

I turned toward him, though he still caged me against the door.

“Give me time,” he said. “Soon you will beg me to conquer the land you wish to save.”

“Now who is making presumptions?”

“I am offering truth,” he said.

I glared at him, and there was a knock. It came from the opposite side of the room, where a door led into the great hall.

Adrian did not immediately answer, just stared at me a moment longer, somehow looking both fierce and mournful. He wanted to talk about last night, but I was more eager to talk about vampires like Lady Bella and Lady Mila. More importantly, who would he choose as his next vassal?

Another knock, and I pushed against his chest.

“We are being summoned,” I said.

He grabbed my wrist and pressed my fingers to his lips.

“I meant it, Isolde. I would have you make your own judgments today.”

I believed him.

He held on to my hand and fitted it into the crook of his elbow as we entered the great hall. There were people gathered, many with variations of Adrian’s gold collar. Noblesse, I guessed when I spotted Gesalac in the crowd fitted with silver and emerald. His gaze was dark and made me feel dread. Still, I thought it said something about his loyalty to Adrian—and this court—that he presented despite his son’s death.

Though perhaps it said more about how feared Adrian truly was.

“Who is Noblesse Anatoly?” I asked.

Adrian looked down at me and then nodded toward the far wall.

“He is the dour-looking one,” he said.

He did not need to give me any more of a description than that. Noblesse Anatoly stood aside, dressed in black and silver, an almost sleepy expression on his face due to large, round, half-lidded eyes.

“You will have to tell me later of your relationship with his daughter, Lady Bella,” I said.

Adrian raised a brow. “I will tell you now. There is no relationship.”

“Really? She seems to know a lot about your sexual exploits,” I said. “And your bloodlust.”

Adrian held my hand aloft as I made the short walk up the precipice where two identical thrones now sat. He paused before them and touched my chin, a gentle movement that made my face flush.

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