Enemy's Queen Read online

  “Is it to your liking?” the warrior asked.

  “It is.” He paused and noticed Sam meandering off into another room. “My delegation?”

  “They will all be housed in this same corridor.”

  “And the warlord?” Tehl asked, the question hanging in the air.

  “He hopes you and your delegation will join him for dinner this evening.”

  “We accept his invitation with thanks,” Tehl murmured in an attempt to be respectful. He clamped his lips shut from asking about his wife. If the warrior had any information about Sage, he doubted the Scythian would share it with him.

  With one last bow, the commander strode out of the room and closed both doors behind him, leaving Sam, Gav, Rafe, Lilja, Hayjen, Zachael, and Tehl in the room.

  “That went as well as I expected,” Gav said while walking around the perimeter of the room.

  “Indeed,” Rafe added, inspecting the balcony. “This place, it smells like death.”

  A shiver worked up Tehl’s spine. There was something eerie about the abandoned palace. No, not abandoned, just empty. He shook it off and shot a glance at his brother, who was peeking underneath the bed. “What did you think of it?”

  “Tactically, it’s a brilliant place to stage a massacre.”

  Everyone’s attention snapped to Sam.

  His brother stood and tapped his temple. “Think about it. It’s the perfect place to corral people. Looping walkways, narrow stairways, and every passageway looks identical. It would be easy to get lost if you’re not familiar with the place.” He shrugged and shoved at the bed, only budging the colossal piece of furniture but a few inches. “Some help, please.”

  Hayjen and Tehl both stepped forward and heaved the bed over. His brother smiled and flipped back the rug, revealing a hatch in the floor.

  “But if you know where the tunnels are, well…” Sam’s blue eyes glinted dangerously. “We won’t be so difficult to corral.”

  Zachael dropped into a squat, his black-and-silver hair falling into his face as he ran his hand along the door. He lifted his fingers, his eyes narrowing. “No dust. What does that tell you, Sam?”

  “It’s been in use. Recently.”

  The weapon master’s lips thinned. “We should be prepared for company.” He flicked a look to Tehl. “Also, consider everything said in this room to be public knowledge. Even if they don’t attack, there’s no way to know who’s listening.”

  Tehl stared at the hatch. “We need to station someone down there.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  He clashed eyes with Rafe. The rebellion leader let a ruthless grin take over his face, puckering his scar so that it looked even more fierce. “Don’t you want to be at the delegation?”

  “Yes, but I can guard during the night.”

  “And when will you sleep?” Gav asked without snark. “You will need rest, or we will all be in danger.”

  “They won’t get past me,” Rafe responded with confidence. “During the day, I’ll station several men down there.”

  Tehl noticed Lilja staring blankly out the window. Hayjen stood silently behind her, his hands rubbing her arms. They both were uncharacteristically quiet.

  “Lilja,” he called softly.

  The Sirenidae glanced at him with a sort of sorrow in her eyes.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “I know this is painful for you and I wish you didn’t have to bear it, but I’m thankful you’re here, for Sage.” He stepped closer, lifted her icy hand, and kissed the back of it. “I’m in your debt.”

  He began to pull away when she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug. “I’d do anything for Sage, but know I do this for you, too, Tehl.”

  Tehl squeezed her once and smiled at Hayjen, who stepped forward and hugged him with a lot of back-slapping. He was warmed by the gesture. He’d always had his family for his friends, but since Sage came into his life, his friends seemed to expand day by day, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

  “What’s next?” Rafe asked.

  “Now, we wait.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Tehl

  He hated waiting.

  Tehl paced the room as the sun set, blazing pinks and oranges splashed across the sky. “Are we supposed to go down unescorted?” he growled, tugging on his blue velvet vest, eyeing the sinking sun.

  “Calm down, brother, or you’ll tire yourself out. The night is still young.”

  He pulled in a shuddering breath. “I need some air.” He strode across the room and joined Rafe on the balcony. The rebellion leader’s head was tipped back, eyes closed, his wine-colored hair lifting in the breeze.

  “Have you worn out your boots yet?”

  Tehl wrapped his hands around the banister and rolled his shoulders back. “Not yet, but I’m on my way.”

  An amber eye peeked at him. “You need to calm down.”

  He scowled at Rafe, his jaw clenching. “I’m trying. It’s like I’m trying to burst out of my skin,” he confessed. “I want it to stop.”

  “It’s being so close that is difficult,” Rafe commiserated.

  “What a sad pair we are,” Tehl said dryly, scanning the other balconies in view. None were close, but in a pinch, he could possibly maneuver down if the need arose. Was Sage trapped in one of those rooms? He tore his eyes from the windows below. “Does the worry ever end?”

  A bark of laughter escaped the rebellion leader, only to be carried away in the wind. “It only gets worse the longer you love someone.”

  Tehl mulled over that, scowling. He worried over his father, his brother, his cousin, but nothing compared to the agonizing pain and worry he carried over Sage. Was that what love involved? He caught Rafe observing him from the corner of his eye. “What?”

  “You are the only one I could ever deem worthy of her. You’ve sacrificed much for her.” The rebellion leader leveled him with a look. “Things your family doesn’t even know.”

  Tehl straightened, knowing exactly what he referred to. “How?”

  “The how doesn’t matter right now, only that my respect for you has grown.” Rafe held out his forearm. “I promise, from this moment forward, I will leave your mate alone.”

  “My mate?” he repeated, to make sure he’d heard correctly.

  “Your mate,” Rafe reiterated without so much as a blink.

  Tehl took the offered forearm. “Thank you.” And he meant it. He knew how much the rebellion leader loved Sage, even if he had a poor way of showing it.

  Rafe smiled, but it was bitter. “Just take care of her, or there will be consequences.”

  He smiled back. “Naturally.”

  A knock at the door had everyone straightening.

  “Let’s go get our girl,” Lilja whispered.

  Zachael pulled open the door, admitting a different warrior. The man bowed and gestured to the side. “Dinner is served. If you will please follow me…”

  Tehl strode forward with Rafe and Zachael at either side. In the hallway, the rest of his delegation stood in their finery and bowed at his entrance. He nodded, but kept up with their escort as they were led through a series of twist and turns, finally arriving at a gigantic black door painted with golden dragons. The Scythian pushed the door inward and it split in half, revealing it was in fact two doors instead of one.

  Tehl glanced at his brother and nodded as if to say, Here we go. He threw back his shoulders and stepped into the room just as the servant’s voice rang out:

  “Crown Prince Tehl Ramses and the Aermian delegation.”

  The dining room was immense. To say it was opulent was an understatement. Rubies the size of his fist hung from black metal chandeliers that highlighted the elaborate paintings on the ceiling. But that wasn’t the most interesting part. What was more intriguing were the exotic people staring at his group, complete silent. A chill ran down his spine when he noted just how similar they all looked to one another. A man stood at the head of a table and held a hand out to the woman next to him.


  Tehl’s breath seized in his lungs as he got a clear look at the woman. “Sage,” he mouthed.

  His wife sat serenely next to the warlord, her face a pleasant but placid mask. His heart jumped, beating so hard he swore everyone could hear it. She was alive. Whole.

  A pinch on his arm pulled his attention from Sage to Sam. His brother’s lips lifted in a smirk, but his eyes held a warning.

  “Steady,” Lilja whispered. “Calm.”

  Tehl barely registered her words, but he gave a curt nod in acknowledgment and centered himself. Tonight wasn’t for reunions, no matter how much he wished it. Tonight was for battle. A battle that involved words. A moment of dread gripped him at the thought. He was terrible when it came to speaking pretty words, but Sage’s life depended on it. He pushed the thought away and focused on his wife.

  She rose gracefully and placed her hand in the warlord’s. They moved around the table gracefully, step by step, and Sage never looked more like a queen than in that moment. Tehl froze as two gigantic man-eaters sauntered after the couple. Stars above. His mind told him to run from the predators prowling their way.

  “That’s the biggest cat I’ve ever seen,” Sam breathed. “How in the blazes did he acquire those?”

  “With skill, I’m sure,” Lilja whispered.

  Tehl tore his gaze from the felines and back to Sage. Her expression was pleasant, pleased even, but he knew what that really meant. She was scared. He squinted, but otherwise kept his expression schooled. Her court mask wasn’t the only thing that looked different. Sage looked like an altered version of herself, more polished than the wild woman he’d taken as his wife. She looked… flawless. That thought caused unease to churn in his gut. Was it simply his being away from her so long that meant perhaps his memory was inaccurate, or could it mean something more?

  With great pain, he pulled his gaze from her and met the pitch-black eyes of the man escorting her. It felt like he’d been slapped in the face. He’d always considered himself a good judge of beauty, male and female alike. But the man—if you could call him that—was beyond anything he’d ever seen. Tehl had never felt more disheveled and self-conscious. The warlord smiled at him, and the hair rose on the back of his neck. Tehl knew a predator when he saw one.

  In that moment, Tehl put aside any faint but fanciful notions of peace. The man escorting his wife did not want peace. But what did he want? He’d find out soon enough. Tehl straightened and pulled himself together as the warlord and Sage halted just out of reach.

  The warlord’s deep voice washed over him, both powerful and smooth with a hint of accent: “Welcome, Crown Prince Ramses.”

  Tehl dipped his chin. “I thank you for the invitation to join you. I also look forward to our new endeavor for peace.”

  “I likewise look forward to our future.” The warlord’s dark gaze swept over the group and paused on someone behind Tehl before coming back to him. “I can’t wait to meet your delegation.” He turned and smiled at Sage. “I trust you know my companion.”

  His thoughts stilled at the look the warlord gave Sage. There was too much heat in his smile to just be polite. Far too much.

  The warlord lifted Sage’s hand, and she glided forward, her green gaze meeting Tehl’s. His world tilted on its access and righted at the sight of her whole. She was here, safe. He kept his feelings shuttered and took her offered hand, placing a chaste kiss on the back of it instead of pulling her into his arms for a hug like he wanted to. “My lady…”

  “My lord,” she murmured, her voice music to his ears.

  It was ridiculous. Since she’d disappeared, he’d almost forgotten how beautiful her voice was. He breathed in and smiled that she still smelled like herself. She looked different, but still was Sage. “Thank you for taking such good care of my wife. I cannot tell you how much she’s been missed,” he murmured against her skin.

  Sage smiled and gently tried to pull her fingers from his grasp. He tightened his grip for several seconds before he allowed her to step back. The light in her eyes dimmed and her mask slipped into place. The hope he held inside died at her reaction. She appeared whole on the outside, but he knew the inside would tell a different story. He forced his hand to keep from clenching and smiled pleasantly at the warlord studying him.

  “It was my pleasure.” The warlord lifted Sage’s hand and turned it over, kissing the inside of her wrist.

  Tehl didn’t react to the sexual gesture and kept his façade in place, but inside, he was seething.

  “She’s been an absolute treasure to have in my home. Now, let’s eat,” the warlord said. He wrapped Sage’s arm in his and spun on his heel.

  A flash of rage burned through Tehl at the manner in which the Scythian ruler held his wife. He blinked, surprised at the strong emotion. He couldn’t risk showing his hand and endangering everyone, so he shoved his feelings aside. With forced casualness, he followed them to the table littered with Scythians.

  Two chairs sat at the end of the table. The warlord sat Sage at one and stood in front of the other. “Please, sit, and let dinner begin.”

  Tehl placed himself on the other side of his wife and sat at the same time as the warlord. His brother glided to his other side and sat with a flourish all his own. For once, Tehl was thankful for his brother’s antics as they pulled much of the attention off of Tehl and onto Sam. He glanced across the table and nodded to Gav, who sat beside the behemoth of a warrior who had escorted them to their rooms earlier. Blair, the commander. Tehl acknowledged him and then eyed the servants placing tray after tray of food on the table. Traditional Aermian, and what he assumed to be Scythian delicacies, littered the table, the spicy, savory, and sweet aromas wafting temptingly through the air.

  He nearly jumped when a rumbling sound erupted next to him. Tehl glanced down to the floor and caught the golden gaze of a feline. The hair rose on his arms. If he so much as moved his hand he could touch the beast’s fur.

  “That’s enough,” Sage whispered softly and placed a hand on the feline’s head.

  Tehl blinked, and swore he saw the feline smile smugly before pressing against Sage’s leg. He eyed the leren for only a moment more before forcing himself to turn back to the table. He inhaled the spices teasing the air and placed a few foodstuffs onto his plate, then turned to the warlord with a practiced smile, not surprised to find the Scythian ruler was studying him. “The fare looks delicious. I thank you for the hospitality shown to my men and myself, Warlord Zane. Our rooms are exquisite, and the view, breathtaking.”

  A twinkle entered the warlord’s eye as he plopped a piece of fruit into his mouth, flashing white teeth. “It was my pleasure, Your Highness. And I might thank you for returning my niece home safely. Not everyone is so honorable.”

  Tehl nodded. “It was my pleasure. Blaise was no trouble at all.”

  The warlord released a booming laugh. “I wouldn’t go that far. She’s a handful and enjoys causing mischief wherever she goes. Isn’t that so, niece?”

  Tehl glanced down the table to Blaise.

  She set her spoon down prettily, dipped her head. “As you say, my lord.”

  “Cheeky,” the warlord mumbled, eyeing his niece. He raised one eyebrow before dismissing her and returning his attention to his plate.

  Tehl turned and peeked at Sage next to him, who was picking at her plate. “Are you not hungry, my lady?” he asked, wondering if there was something wrong with it. Was it poisoned?

  Her bowed head lifted just a touch; her gaze flitted to his for a fraction of a heartbeat and then back to the food on her plate.

  “I’m afraid my stomach is unsettled, my lord.”

  “Wild one, why didn’t you tell me?” The warlord sat forward, a flicker of concern on his face.

  Wild one? Anger heated his gut. The warlord had a pet name for his wife? That didn’t bode well.

  “It’s nothing,” Sage murmured.

  The warlord scanned his plate and plucked up a little yellow fruit and held it out to her. “
Here, this will help.”

  Tehl expected her to take the fruit from the warlord, but the air in his lungs froze when she scooted closer and ate the fruit from his hand. From the corner of his eye, he caught Gav gawking for only a moment before he recovered. The warlord smiled, brushed her lip with his thumb, and caught a drop of juice. Tehl watched as the Scythian leader sucked it into his own mouth. The move was blatantly sexual, and completely inappropriate. His hands clenched into fists under the table.

  The warlord’s obsidian gaze wandered from Sage to Tehl, a small smirk on his smug face, like he knew what the crown prince was thinking. Sage’s small hand slid over Tehl’s and squeezed once before retreating. He kept his expression schooled into something polite. Sage continued to eat like nothing had happened, so he followed her cue.

  He sipped his savory pumpkin soup while scanning the table. It was ridiculous. The entire group, Aermians and Scythians alike, was silent, each pretending they weren’t all sneaking glances at the other. The dislike and mistrust were evident with each glare or false smile. He met Gav’s purple gaze before dropping his eyes back to his soup. No one wanted to be here, including himself.

  “Is the soup to your liking?” a deep voice rumbled.

  He glanced at the warlord. “It’s delicious.”

  “Not a man of many words, are you?”

  Tehl leaned back into his chair and cocked his head. “I’ve found that people like to dance around a problem with too many fine words and end up accomplishing nothing. I hate wasting time. Why not say what you mean the first time?”

  “Why not, indeed?” The warlord swirled his wine in his goblet and dipped his chin. “I, too, believe in being straightforward and honest. So, I’ll say this…” His dark gaze intensified. “I desire peace. My people deserve more than being punished for the sins of their ancestors, but prejudices long ingrained are hard to remove. This won’t be easy, but I believe it possible.”

  Tehl regarded him thoughtfully. His words didn’t seem false, but that made him wary. The best lies were ones rooted in truth. He turned to Sage, who was listening intently, but had remained silent. “And what of you, Sage? What do you think? You’ve lived with both our peoples.”