When he reached the king’s room, he was surprised to find it empty, with only Mikael’s servant.
“Where is Salar?” he asked.
Vimal gave a small bow. “He joined Salara last night in her sanctuary, my lord. He’s not yet returned.”
Soren bristled. He turned and strode back out of the chamber, down the hall, and through the castle, toward the North Queen’s sanctuary. As he turned the corner, nearing her hall, only a sentry guard stood watch, not her Crest guard. He slowed his pace; she wasn’t there.
He lingered in the cross section a moment, then he turned and left the way he’d come. He wondered where he might find Salar now. Mikael had already left the queen and the sanctuary, but he hadn’t headed back to his chamber.
As he crossed the center of the castle and headed toward the dining hall, something caught his eye. Two soldiers of the queen’s Crest guard stood at the end of a hallway at the back of the castle, by a door leading outside. Why would the queen be outside? And without her guard? He strode toward them. “Where is the North Queen?” he called.
“In the conservatory,” Bhastian answered.
“Without you?” he asked angrily but didn’t give them an opportunity to answer as he pushed through the doors and stepped outside. He stalked the short way to the conservatory, but as he reached the front step, he stopped. Through the side windowpane, he saw the North Queen. And Mikael.
The queen stood with her back against the stone wall. Mikael held her face in his hands, cradling her as his mouth covered hers.
A chilling burn crept under his skin and to his chest, then sank like a weight into his stomach. It wasn’t the kiss. It was what the kiss meant.
He slipped around the outside corner of the castle, out of sight from the conservatory, and leaned back against the stone exterior.
Soren drew in a slow breath and forced it out. He’d seen the king with other women, with his previous wives, but those marriages had been motivated by political gain and meant very little. Mikael had never loved anyone. Until now. And that was dangerous—loving the North Queen. The one threat to him. Mikael welcomed his fate.
Soren wanted blood so badly he could taste it on his tongue. He put his hand on his dagger again, curling his fingers around the hilt to settle his fury. But there was no settling.
“I don’t want to leave you,” Mikael said softly as he drew back from Norah’s lips. “But I’ve kept the lord commander waiting long enough.”
Norah didn’t want him to leave either, but she understood. She gave him a smile. “Go on, then.”
“I’ll return in four days.”
She nodded.
“Goodbye, Salara,” he whispered, and kissed her once more. Then he stepped out the door and headed toward the castle, leaving her alone in the quiet.
Norah waited a moment, her mind in a fog. She brought her fingers to her lips. She had never imagined this life. Mikael had woken a feeling inside her she struggled to accept. It was no longer just a marriage for an alliance. She wanted to be with him. Norah smiled to herself as she stepped out of the conservatory, heading back toward the castle.
She almost didn’t feel the blade as it plunged into her belly.
The second stab came in an instant, spilling a trail of blood to the ground. Her blood. She clutched her stomach as the red warmth saturated the front of her dress.
Norah stumbled back. What was happening? Her legs felt like they weren’t her own, and they folded under her weight. She tried to catch herself as she fell, but she couldn’t feel her arms. She lay on the ground, looking up at the sky. It was so gray. No clouds, just gray. She blinked as it grew darker.
“Where’s the light?” she asked the hands that grabbed her.
But there came only darkness.
Chapter fifty
Soren heard the door to the conservatory open and peered around the wall to see Mikael stepping out, leaving the queen inside and heading toward the stables. He leaned back against the stone in the recess and waited. The king would be looking for him now.
He gripped the dagger at his side. Blood settled him. Blood created fear, and fear gave him control. But he wasn’t in control now, and no amount of blood would solve that.
His skin burned with hate. The Battle of Bahoul felt like a lifetime ago, but when he thought of everything he’d lost, everything the Northmen had taken from him, it was as if it had happened yesterday. His mother, his brother, his sister. His father. His land. Now to have the North Queen in Kharav, as his salara… this he couldn’t accept. And Salar had changed. He saw it—Mikael’s love for her.
But Mikael refused to see this madness. Even with the visions that foretold his fall, he chose the North Queen. And he gave her everything she asked, everything he thought she wanted. He even protected the Bear, the man that would bring his own end, all because she asked it of him.
He watched his breath in the winter air. When he heard the conservatory door open again, he knew it was the queen. He delayed, waiting for her to go back into the castle. He’d rather not face her either. But it wasn’t the sound of the castle doors he heard as he waited for the queen to go inside. Footsteps rang out—someone running. He peered around the corner again and saw a man fleeing around the conservatory and into the thick of trees behind.
Then he saw the queen.
Something was wrong.
She stood, looking down. From her stomach, blood spilled down the fabric of her gown to the ground below. She stared at her hands, swaying. Then she staggered forward and collapsed.
“Bhastian!” Soren thundered as he raced to her side. He dropped to his knees beside her, covering her stomach with his hands to stop the bleeding. Bhastian and another Crest guard tore through the doors at his call and looked at him in alarm.
“A man!” he barked at them. “He’s gone into the wood. Go!”
They raced after.
“North Queen,” he said, his worry rising. “North Queen!” But she didn’t respond. He pulled her into his arms and carried her into the castle. “Healer!” he bellowed, drawing another wave of guards. “Get the healer! And Salar!”
He carried the queen down the hall and up the stairs, toward her sanctuary. The queen’s maid met him halfway down and gasped when she saw them. Then she spun around and ran ahead to prepare the room.
Soren made his way into the chamber, carefully bringing her through the door, and laid her on the bed. Her blood covered him, running down his stomach and soaking into his breeches, which now stuck to his skin. He pressed his hands back over her stomach to slow the flow.
“North Queen!” he called to her again. He held pressure on her wounds with one hand as he checked her pulse with the other. Her heart still beat, but faintly. He pressed the wound tighter. Never had he thought he’d wish the North Queen to live.
It seemed to take an eternity for the healer to arrive. He was breathless from the run and started looking over the queen’s body, measuring the extent of her injuries.
“Are you blind?” Soren snapped. Fuck the four kingdoms—this healer would need a healer of his own if he didn’t get to it.
“I see it, I see it,” the healer said quickly, and pulled some shears from his bag. He quickly cut away the gown.
Mikael thundered into the room, his eyes wide and his face etched in horror. In seeing the queen, his face twisted in anger, and his eyes burned. He rushed to her side. “What happened?” he raged.