They reached the throne room, but the king wasn’t without company. Norah paused in the wing, watching out of sight.
Mikael sat on his throne, listening to a man in an emerald-green cloak. An embroidered golden crest on the chest of the man’s jacket caught the light as he moved, but she wasn’t able to make it out fully. His skin was darker than that of the Kharavian people, but not black like the people of Etreus. He wore his hair cropped short but his beard long.
“An envoy from Serra,” Vitalia whispered. Her breath came shallow. “Perhaps it would be better to speak to Salar later.”
Vitalia was afraid. But of what?
“Who is that—Serra?”
“It’s the slavers’ kingdom. South. Across the Aged Sea.”
Norah swallowed. The kingdom that dealt in slave trade. Her own revulsion swelled. She watched them. Norah understood the man’s words as he spoke to the king. “They speak the Northern tongue?”
“The Northern tongue is the Common tongue. Almost all kingdoms use it for trade and relations.”
That meant everyone spoke the Northern tongue. After what had happened with Bremhad, she’d known it was that way in Kharav, but she hadn’t realized it was a common language across kingdoms. A bitter taste crept over the back of her tongue and down her throat as she thought about the lord commander. And as if thoughts made him appear, her eyes found him. He stood to the right of the king’s throne, looking murderous, as always.
“King Milar disagrees,” the envoy told Mikael as Norah started to listen in. “He proposes a reduction of Serra’s share by one third, or an increase in provisions from Kharav.”
“They talk of trade?” Norah whispered to Vitalia.
Vitalia nodded, visibly upset. “Kharav trades slaves with Serra and provides provisions to support them.”
“Go back to the sanctuary,” Norah told her. “I’ll return after I’ve spoken to the king.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Norah whispered. “Go.”
Vitalia left her standing in the wing, and Norah turned her attention back to Mikael.
“He awaits your answer,” the envoy said.
“I’ve already given it,” Mikael replied. His face didn’t show the anger that Norah heard in his voice.
“King Milar says this is unacceptable.”
Mikael rose from his throne. He walked down the stairs, calm and composed. Then, in a single movement, he pulled his sword from his scabbard and cut down the Serran guard beside the envoy. Norah’s heart leapt to her throat, and she clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry.
Mikael grabbed the envoy by his jacket and forced him to his knees as he swept the tip of the blade to the man’s neck.
“No!” Norah called out, stepping forward from the shadows of the wing.
They all turned at the sound of her voice. Mikael’s eyes met hers, and he stopped.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
He looked back at the envoy, and his face darkened again. “Sending my answer to King Milar.”
“Don’t harm him,” she said. “Please.”
Mikael paused for a moment, looking back at the envoy. He angled the tip of his sword against the man’s throat. “Salara asks for mercy,” he said finally. “Your gods smile on you today.” He released the envoy, and the man scrambled backward and to his feet.
But Norah didn’t feel relief. She stared at the dead guard on the floor. Blood pooled around him and veined out along the grooves where the patterned stone joined together to form its image.
“Leave us,” Mikael said to the room. The Serran guards collected their dead companion and ushered their lord out and away from the loosely leashed danger. The Kharavian soldiers followed, clearing the room and leaving only Mikael and Norah.
And the lord commander, of course.
Norah peeled her eyes from the smeared blood on the stone.
“I’ll have it cleaned,” Mikael told her.
Is that what he thought she cared about? “Will you bring back the life you took?” The life he’d taken so easily, like it had been nothing.
Her words silenced him for a moment. “These are not good men, Salara,” he said finally.
As if that justified murder.
Mikael glanced at the parchments in her hand. His eyes met hers again, and his expression shifted. “You read them?” he asked.
Norah looked down at her clenched hand. She’d forgotten she was holding the marriage annulments.
“This is what you wanted, yes?” he said, his voice softer now.
Yes, but no. None of this was what she wanted.
The lord commander stepped forward, the line between his brow creasing. “What have you done?” he asked the king.
Was he serious? This man was truly unbelievable. Norah glared at him, finally finding her voice. “You’re fine with him killing a man but not absolving a marriage?”
But he did not respond to her reproach. His eyes stayed on the king. “Salar?”
“Leave us,” Mikael told him.
The commander’s eyes shifted to Norah, and she could see the swelling rage within. But he said nothing, only turned and left them in silence.
“Walk with me?” Mikael asked, only he didn’t wait for her to answer before moving them forward and out of the throne room.
“Do you kill all your trade envoys?” she questioned as they walked.
“Not all of them.”
She wasn’t sure if he was being cheeky or serious. Anger touched her cheeks either way. She didn’t like this Mikael—the dark Mikael. He drifted closer to her as they walked, close enough to touch her. He’d better not dare.
They reached the great hall, and he slowed. From the corner of her eye, she saw him looking at her. “I spared him.”
“Because I asked you to. Not because you had mercy in your heart.”
They stopped and stared at each other.
“Has it come already?” he asked. “Your loathing for me?”
Did she loathe him now? She wanted to.
“Not that I thought it would take long,” he added. His voice came fainter, as if he were speaking more to himself than to her, as if he were regretful, even. “I just hadn’t expected it so soon.” His face fell, and his eyes softened. “What would you have me change?”
His question wasn’t what she had anticipated. What would she have him change? His kingdom? Their values, their culture, their way of life? Anything she could ask for was too much or not enough. Or both. She stayed quiet.
He shifted his gaze forward again and let out a long breath. “The villa is yours alone now. Will you be moving there?”
Her mind was still on the man that had just been killed; she couldn’t think about the villa, other than that she would most certainly not be moving there.
“You don’t want the villa?” He paused a moment. “Have you seen it?”
No. She didn’t need to see it. She didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to stay where there had been wives before her, women he had known in such an intimate way. But she didn’t want to argue about the villa right now. “I’m sure it has everything I need,” she managed finally, hoping to put the subject to rest for now.