Crown of Blood and Ruin: A dark fairy tale romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 3)

Smoke from the burning brothel hid the moonlight. As we gathered in the trees, no losses among our folk, I watched without a word as those closest to me organized blades from the dead Ravens, or shim from the mistress’s coffers. To the side, the pleasure mates kept close together, watching every move, likely trusting no one.

I could understand the feeling.

Elise stood beside me, stoic and silent. She hadn’t washed her face of the blood yet. Truth be told, she hadn’t said a word about the fingers or the dead Raven who’d purchased her.

Later. We’d work through it together, preferably alone, later. Now, there was more blood to be spilled.

“Enough.” My voice carried and everyone froze. I narrowed my gaze at the inner council. At Stave, Crispin, Klok, at men I suddenly realized I knew very little about. There were no more than ten who’d joined us, but they all backed away from the blades and stood with a touch of caution.

“Line up,” I commanded, using my axe to point my directions. With a nod at Axel and Frey, I demanded they join as well. I doubted the brothers were traitors, but I would not take any chances. Without needing it, even Casper and Stieg stood in the line.

Everyone inside or near the house joined the long row in front of me.

I rolled the axe in my hand, pacing down the line, jaw tight. “Someone among us has been making deals with Castle Ravenspire.”

“My King—” Stieg began, but I held up a hand. I trusted him as a member of my guild.

“I hate traitors.” My voice hung in the air like a sharpened knife, jagged and deadly. “Now, who would like to confess to betraying your queen to Castle Ravenspire? Confess, and you die a warrior’s death to join the gods.”

No one moved. I doubted anyone breathed.

Elise rested a bloody hand on my arm. She didn’t need to say anything; I took a step back.

“My name was purchased,” she said in a tone so unlike her typical warmth and kindness. “Someone sought out the Raven, intrigued him, then sold my name.”

All gods, I wanted blood.

She stalked the line meeting each eye. The men stiffened under her watch, and I embraced the moment with pride. Like the last Timoran queen of Etta, Elise could shock fear into the hearts of the most formidable warriors.

I’d never forget the first time my mother commanded a unit of our warriors when my father had been absent in delegations over the peaks.

Elise was even bolder. Fiercer.

She paused at Stave. He met her eye, but I couldn’t read his expression. My blood boiled with each beat of my heart. Did he do this? Did she know? And if she did, how? What had I missed?

Before the spin of my thoughts faded, Elise moved on. “There would be evidence of the purchase,” she said. “Shim. I’d like to see what I’m worth to you. Strip, and turn out your clothing.”

There was hesitation, a few uncertain glances.

“Did you not hear your queen?” I shouted. “Move!”

The line jolted, and one by one the men began to remove their clothing. Tor, Halvar, and Ari set to work searching every thread of fabric. Stieg didn’t blink as he dropped his trousers and tunic. Casper pounded a fist over his naked chest, smirking. “Your name is too valuable to sell, Elise.”

She fought a smile. I did not feel the same lightness. Did the Guild of Shade betray her? No. Instinct rolled through my senses and told me Stieg and Casper were in line but enjoying their nakedness without an ounce of guilt.

Still, there was a bit of relief when nothing was found on them, nor on Frey and Axel.

“We stand with the king and queen,” Axel said, dipping his chin.

Tor shoved Stave aside. He looked at me, shaking his head. Nothing on Klok. Three of Crispin’s men were cleared.

Then . . .

“What is this?” Halvar’s tone was playful, but the dangerous kind. A sound I only heard when my friend planned on killing someone and laughing as he did it.

The pleasant clatter of coins scraping together turned ugly. I almost didn’t want to look.

Almost.

“Crispin.” My voice was devoid of any feeling as I approached the naked, old man. A few whispers filtered through our people. I tilted my head until his slate eyes dared meet mine. “What have you done? After all we did for you, this is how you stand with Etta? Or perhaps you were always for Timoran.”

His gaze turned wickedly cold. “I have never stood with Timoran. I would gladly watch it burn. My loyalty lives in the crown of Etta, and I am loyal enough to protect its king, even when he is blinded.”

I’d peel his skin away layer by layer. “I have never seen so clearly.”

“Why?” Elise’s softness returned. Hurt was there. I wanted to take it away. “Crispin, we helped you. I helped your people.”

“Helped me? You overruled me.” His nose wrinkled in disgust. “We have no business working with Timorans. I knew it from the day you insisted those Ravens be given a second chance at life, not only to live, but to join us. Ravens? You have manipulated the heir of Etta and have worked your way to be queen of a land that will never be yours.”

I made a move to strike him, slaughter him, one of the two, but Elise stopped me.

She didn’t look away from the man, simply shook her head. “You are the blind one, Crispin. You cannot see beyond your own prejudice and have become nothing but a coward. It is not so painful to know you betrayed me; I can see the looks, the mistrust around me. But you put our people at risk today. You put us all at risk.”

I’d heard enough. With a flick of my fingers, I gestured to Tor and Halvar, standing by as they bound the old man.

“Etta will never rise strong if we do not rid it of all things Timoran,” Crispin shouted. “They robbed our people of the fury from this soil. They do not deserve to walk it now! I am not alone in my thoughts.”

His cries muffled as Casper took over. His bulky hand closed around Crispin’s throat as he wheeled him through the trees.

I watched him disappear into the shadows. Cold. Detached. Vengeful. Without a look at our men, I followed into the trees. “We return to Ruskig. We have an execution to attend.”

This time, I sat by the window. Cold dawn spread over Ruskig as I sharpened the curved edges of my battle axes.

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t hear Elise slip from our bed. But as if her touch had a bit of fury in it, the instant her arms curled around my neck from behind, my shoulders slumped. Relaxed.

“I love you, Valen. I am loyal to you.”

I stopped drawing the stone over the edge of my axe, and turned to her, pulling her onto my lap. “If there is one person whose loyalty will never be questioned, it is yours. Have you kept things from me? Mistreatment of you that I haven’t seen?”

Her lips tightened, but her fingertips kept stroking the side of my face. “Not since our vows. But . . . as consort, some folk didn’t seem to approve.”

“Who?”

She buried her face in my neck and shook her head. “Until there is reason to cut them open, I think it’s better if your bloodlust does not know their names.”

I pulled her away so I could meet her eyes. “You are queen here, Elise. My equal. I don’t care if you came from the slums of the Eastern Kingdom, you are the queen; you are the better half of my heart. Do not accept treatment any less than that. And if it happens—damn my bloodlust, let it spill out.”

She offered a sad smile, holding me tightly. A quick glance down and my gaze found the dark, rusted blood of the bandage wrapped around her leg. My hand fell to the wound, but she covered it with hers quickly. “I’m fine.”

“The Raven could have killed you all because of a traitor.”

“But he did not, and I took his fingers. If our messenger is swift, Runa and Calder will receive a gift I hope ruins their evening meal.”

I kissed her neck, breathing in her goodness, her viciousness, trying to soothe a bit of my darkness. If I did not calm the race of my heart, I would take all my anger out in the square today, and I would dishonor the crown through wretchedness and brutality.

A knock on the wall drew us apart. Ari stood in the frame of the door. His typical blithe way of looking at life was missing. Today he frowned and his gilded eyes looked blacker. “It’s time.”

Elise slipped off my lap and pulled a fur cloak over her slender shoulders. While she bundled for the chill of the wind, I stripped my chest bare. Across my skin was painted runes. Traditional curses and prayers for what was to come. Deep inside, beneath the anger and lust for gore, I hated this. To know a man I’d respected, a man Elise and I had befriended together—or so I’d thought—had tried to sell my wife to her bleeding sister. It wouldn’t stand.

Examples needed to be made.

Already crowds gathered outside the royal longhouse. Long lines of our people stood, much like the day of the vows, except today they were dressed in dark clothes, their faces painted in blood and kohl. Some wore skins over their skulls, some with horns and antlers from wild rams or deer.

Together, Elise and I stepped into the light. She was every bit as formidable with her hair braided in intricate designs around a black iron circlet. Her fur cloak made her body seem broader than true.

The lines of people led to the square of Ruskig. From here, I had a clear view of the ropes tethering Crispin’s arms out from his body like wings.

I gripped an axe in each hand and walked briskly toward a stone basin at the edge of the square. Blood filled the bottom. A symbol of what was to come, a tradition from my grandmother’s rule. My father once told me the blood was an acknowledgment to the gods that a life would be taken, and the one who lifted the blade accepted the consequences of taking it. Good or bad.

Elise dipped her fingers into the basin, then faced me. With a gentle touch, she dragged the bloody lines down my face, from crown to chin, and stepped aside.

All voices died when I stepped into the square.

For a moment, I scanned the edges of my people, allowing them to meet my gaze. As if my stare might draw out any others who felt the same as Crispin.

I hated this and craved it in the same breath.

“We are at war. There is no time for such petty things as betrayal. I have little patience, and no mercy to give such cowards.” I turned in a slow circle, voice raised over the heads of the people. “Our kinsman betrayed the crown by betraying its queen. The reason? The blood in her veins.” The axes burned in my palms. My voice darkened. “Blood that runs in mine!”

A few gasps interjected. Folk lowered their eyes, but I was not near finished. “Have you forgotten? Cut me and I bleed for Etta and Timoran. Have you forgotten, long ago a Timoran huntress saved the life of an Ettan prince? You worship Queen Lilianna the same as you worship King Arvad—but have you dimmed their history in your minds, or the truth of where my mother came from? Have you forgotten so soon that without this woman—” I pointed an axe at Elise, “without our queen, I would still wallow in blood as a mindless beast? And you despise her, and those like her because they wish to unite all people. Because they do not hate as you do.”

I took a deep breath, lungs burning. “I tell you this—if you do not stand for all people, if you plot against those born of Timoran so much you would betray your crown, then I have no business being your king.”

Each word rattled against the stone walls surrounding Ruskig. No eye turned away.

“Cut me,” I said again, hoarse and angry, “and I bleed Ettan and Timoran. Cut me and I bleed for her.”

I pointed at my wife once more, letting the finality of my voice pierce every heart. No one moved. No one looked away.

“So, tell me now,” I went on. “Am I to be your king, or should this burden fall to another?”

It took no more than a few breaths before people kneeled in a great wave, heads bowed, fists crossed over their hearts.

I gave a stiff nod. “Then let us be done with this.” Clearing my throat, I rolled my shoulders back. “For the crime of treason, I have condemned Crispin Vӓnlig to meet the hall of the gods this day.”

A roar of acceptance lifted from the crowd as folk staggered to their feet.

With careful steps, I approached Crispin from behind. “Farvӓl en ӓlskade.” Farewell once loved.

His muscles tensed. I let the first strike fall.

Moments blurred. I did not know how long I carved him to the bone, but by the time I finished, Crispin’s body was bathed in blood. I severed the bindings tethering his mangled arms to the posts and let his broken body fall in the pool of blood at my feet.

Hair stuck to my forehead. Drops of hot, sticky blood fell from my lashes. My eyes lifted to the reverence of my people. Their eyes clashed in horror and respect as the Guild of Shade moved to gather what was left of a man I thought was loyal.

A man who’d reminded me to trust few.

I handed the axes to Tor without a word and went to Elise. There was nothing to say to anyone else. I slipped my fingers into hers and walked away. She didn’t falter, didn’t tremble. She stood by my side, eyes ahead. Focused. Prepared for what we still had to do.

We would go to find my sister. Then, Ravenspire would at last be met with our blades and fury.