The King’s Bride : A Steamy Second Chance Fantasy Romance (Scions of the Underworld Book 3)

IT HAD BEEN three months since Osric’s capture.

As Xara sat in an underground room at Seven Sins, a famed pleasure house in Cadia’s red-light district, watching a pair of men glare at her, it was all she could think about. A bag of gold coins lay on the table. Heires, one of her suppliers, stood before her, eyes sparkling with greed at the sight of so much gold. It was ironic, she thought, that the Queen of Inferno was sitting in the basement, and nobody even recognized her.

“Count it,” she said, sitting back to present a picture of authority. “It’s for last month’s shipment to Terra.”

Heires’ gloved hand reached for the coins, eagerly feeling the cold metal in his palms. When he smiled, one fake golden tooth showed. “Ifer doing business directly with me? Never thought I’d see the day.”

She never thought she’d see the day either. Osric had handled her transactions with Heires before. Ever since the king had cracked down on their operation and captured her right-hand man, she had been forced to take a more active role in the business.

Xara surveyed Heires from one end of the room, wearing a black satin mask that covered her face. It was a custom piece, etched with a distinctive design made of rubies and pearls. Her thick brown hair had hidden under a wig, sporting aristocratic men’s clothes, she became Ifer, the enigmatic crime lord who ruled the underworld.

Two men stood next to her, her trusted guards. She made it a point to never travel alone, and made few public appearances, choosing to negotiate with only the most important of partners. However, Osric’s capture left her with few options. With her other ally, her cousin Walric, being hunted by the king, she had no choice but to involve herself in business dealings. Xara needed to find someone reliable to take Osric’s place, but it wasn’t easy to recruit people she could trust.

“Nothing beats the feel of gold,” Heires continued, counting the coins as Xara glanced at the door. She conducted her final deals for the month that evening. She’d soon proceed to the next part of her plan. It was all for the greater good, she reminded herself. Tonight, she’d take another step toward the liberation of Escayton. It was her dream, after all, to see her homeland liberated from King Delton’s rule.

She had funded the movement using the money she made from the illegal supply of drugs and alcohol throughout the continent. It was the first step in her plan to take back what belonged to her. She was the true princess of Escayton, after all. She was the rightful heir to the throne. Or she would’ve been if she hadn’t married King Delton all those years ago. Bile rose in Xara’s throat at that thought. His name always brought back thoughts of her unhappy marriage.

The sound of a demonic flute being played echoed. Pleasure houses played it sometimes. The instrument’s hollow, slightly sweet sound reminded her of her wedding ceremony. In her vision, she saw Delton, his dark blue eyes boring into her as he bent down and kissed her, shocking everyone in the court. The entire world faded as his lips touched hers, drawing out every ounce of feeling inside her body. He’d always had that effect on her — like a magnet attracting iron. It was a quick peck, but a few seconds had been enough for her to know how violently her body reacted to his presence. Back then, she’d thought it was a sign of compatibility. She knew better now. It was a weakness.

“I didn’t expect you to show up tonight. Not with King Delton rabidly hunting for you. But nothing scares the mighty Ifer, of course,” Heires said as he approached the end of the bag of coins. She had been doing business with him for over eighty years, but she didn’t trust him. All her partners were crooks, and it would serve her well to remember it. He owned a network of farms in the countryside that produced Lag, a potent recreational drug that was popular among the masses. It was sold illegally almost every drinking establishment in the country and had been rising in popularity in Terra and Elysium. Xara had taken control of the supply network early on, using her power as the queen to overly slip supplies past the border. The drug stimulated feelings of ecstasy, something that the hardworking masses needed and would pay generously for.

“Do you think I’ll go down that easily?” Xara asked, deepening her voice to create Ifer’s. Her own smoky voice was distinct, and she had to practice hours to get Ifer’s low, clear voice right. “I haven’t lasted so long due to sheer luck.”

“Of course, we know that,” Heires said. “Osric’s capture must’ve come as a blow to you. I’ve been working with him for decades. If you knew where he was, I’m sure you’d find a way to get him back.”

Xara deflated at that reminder, even as Ifer kept his shoulders up. Osric’s capture had slowed down her plans of inciting a revolution in Skera and spearheading a similar revolution in Escayton, but, more importantly, it had made her weak. He was the closest thing she had to a friend. He had saved her when she was at her lowest point. She knew he’d die before he revealed her identity but she didn’t want him to die. She owed Osric her life.

“Do not speak in riddles,” she said, taking on the deep vocal tone of Ifer. In this avatar, she felt powerful. Ifer was authoritative and independent whereas Xara had been nothing more than a pawn, hungry for the love of a man who didn’t return her feelings. “You know where Osric is, don’t you?”

Heires finished counting the coins and looked up at her. “I see you’ve been extra generous today. But it’s not nearly enough to make me talk.”

“What more do you want?” Xara asked.

“Control of the prostitution business in Cadia.”

“That’s rather ambitious of you, especially considering you almost got caught trafficking humans from Terra,” Xara’s voice remained deep and hollow. “Do you think I can’t force you to talk?” She stepped forward, her boot landing straight on Heires’s hand over the gold coins. When she stepped on it, crushing his fingers, he screamed. Heires’ men rushed forward, unsheathing their swords, but her men were faster, cutting off their heads before they could raise their hands. Blood splashed on the gilded walls. As his men fell like dominoes, the fear on Heires’s face grew. Xara unsheathed her sword, lightly running the silver tip along Heires’s neck.

“How many times have I told you that I won’t stand for forcing innocents? Your reckless actions have put the king on my trail. I cannot afford to have such a liability around.”

Heires gripped her boot and her men lurched forward. “Forgive me, Ifer. I will do better.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Her grip on the blade grew tighter. “Give me something useful if you want to live.” Xara’s heart pounded. Ever since she’d learned that Heires knew where Osric was, she’d been itching to get him to speak. Heires only cared about money. She wanted to get rid of him but Heires knew where Osric was. That made him useful.

“I know where your right-hand man is,” Heires said, tripping over his words. “The king doesn’t want anybody to get to him. That’s why he’s locked him in his personal prison.”

“Personal prison?” Xara had heard that the king had a personal prison before but she’d never seen it. Considering she’d only lived in the palace for a day, it wasn’t surprising.

“Yes. It’s in the palace,” he said. “Nobody has ever managed to get in there. It has only one key, and the king protects it. King Delton is someone I’d rather not cross.”

“Where is the key?” she asked, grinding her boot harder.

“I–I don’t know,” Heires screamed. “Only the king knows.”

Xara let out a frustrated groan. “You need to do better if you hope to live.”

“I’m sorry.” Heires squirmed. “I will find out where the king keeps the key.”

Xara wasn’t inclined to let him live, but she needed the information desperately. “How long do you need?’

“Give me a week. I’m going to Inferno City tomorrow. I’ll find out what I can,” said Heires, an oily smile back in place.

Xara pulled her leg back, letting his hand go. “This is your last chance, Heires. Don’t even dream about running away or your head will join theirs.” Her face turned in the direction of Heires’ dead men.

“Of-of course. I’m not stupid enough to antagonize the mighty Ifer.”

Heires gathered all the coins in the bag and pocketed it nervously. “Thank you for the payment. It was a pleasure doing business with you,” said Xara, using her harshest Ifer voice. “I want you back here in one week with the information. Don’t forget that my men will be tailing you.”

“Thank you for sparing my life.” Heires kept right on smiling that greasy smile, feeling the weight of the money he’d earned. His eyes twinkled as he looked at her, making her wonder if he was planning to sell out her identity in exchange for the king’s ransom. Doing business with crooks was a risk, but Xara knew how to manage them. They had too much at stake to betray her. Besides, she’d had several men murdered in the last decade for flouting her orders. Though she loathed murder, she would stop at nothing to protect the empire that she had created. And they both knew it.

Heires exited the room a few minutes later. He had been her final appointment of the day. She felt uneasy about letting him go but was desperate for news of Osric. Xara stood and stretched, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. The downside to being a wanted crime lord was that she couldn’t linger anywhere for too long. She needed to get out before a courtesan opened the door and figured out what was going on.

Leaving her men behind after giving them instructions to oversee an important shipment, she moved on. A large shipment of weapons was being dispatched to Skera that night. She wasn’t going to give up on taking Escayton back just because Delton was on her trail. Instead, she would prepare in the shadows, ready to strike in two weeks once she’d freed Osric.

She moved stealthily in the shadows, slipping into one of the women’s empty rooms. Then, she escaped through the window, getting rid of the mask but keeping on the men’s garb. When she emerged, she looked like a regular pleasure house employee, a young man serving tea to the patrons. It would protect her in case someone saw her leaving. She then stepped out the back door, moving through shrubs and flowers until she merged into an alley.

Xara traversed the narrow alleyway, buried in the heart of Cadia city. A cool breeze hit her face. She reveled in the coolness of the night breeze, which was a contrast to Inferno’s endless heat. Cadia had days and nights, something she’d missed during her exile. It felt good to be back in the capital. As a princess, she’d spent most of her life in this city.

Steam rose from the streets, covering the path ahead. Though the alley was usually empty, a few people lingered. Demons and humans marched back and forth, laughing, slurring, smiling, and whining. She turned her head away to avoid attracting any attention. When she reached the main road, she was captivated by the sight of lit-up pleasure houses for over two miles. The red, pink, and yellow lanterns brought life to the dark thread of water that ran through the red-light district. It was where illegal money exchanged hands and deals were struck.

She joined the crowds, taking on a new avatar as a boy. In her time as Ifer, she’d gotten better at disguises, switching often to avoid being found out. She was happy with how that night had gone. She now knew where Osric was. Getting the key was all that remained.

Swallowing, she raised her head and eyed the royal palace of Escayton silhouetted against the white moon. Lights twinkled in the distance, imbuing the palace with an ethereal glow. It was her home. Soon, it would be her kingdom too. For years, she’d planned and slogged to get Escayton back. She’d saved all her ill-gotten gains and used them to finance underground networks. She’s systematically incited the frustrated people of Escayton, giving them hope that they could get their country back. Delton’s neglect of Escayton only made her path smoother. There was still a long way to go, but Xara was patient.

A long black canal ran through the red-light district. The trepidation in Xara’s heart grew as she neared it. It reminded her of River Wolfburg, the river flowing through Inferno City. The place where she’d tried to drown herself. Her body jerked at the unpleasant memory. Dark water moved like a current, filling her heart with fear.

“Only your death could please me,” Delton had said to her. “For as long as you’re alive, I will never love you.” 

As she stood naked before him on their wedding night, all her hopes disintegrating, Xara wanted to kill herself for being naive enough to believe in him. The thought of spending the rest of her life with an unfeeling monster, subjected to his casual indifference, filled her with unbearable sadness.

Ever since her suicide attempt, she’d become scared of water bodies. She remembered the chill, the hopelessness, and gallons of water gushing into her body as she sunk lower and lower into the wet abyss. She had gotten so tired of trying and had finally decided to end her life. If it hadn’t been for Osric pulling her out of the river, she’d never have survived. He’d given her another chance at life. It was her turn to do the same.

A carriage stood at the end of the alley. It was Ifer’s. Xara climbed into it after checking nobody was tailing her. Once shrouded in darkness, she pulled out a trunk from under the seat and threw it open. It contained all of Xara’s gowns. She picked one out, laying on the empty seat opposite her.

“To the palace,” she instructed the driver.

When the carriage began to move, she shut the windows and drew the curtains. Then, Xara undressed. Her wig, mask, and clothes came off, transforming her from Ifer to the queen. She slipped on a blue dress that she’d brought along. Within minutes, her transformation was complete. She adjusted her hair and clothing, taking on the role of Queen Xara. Ifer was stuffed into a box at the bottom of her trunk, and buried for the next week. Gone were the strength and the power. Her curves filled out the tailored blue dress, the skirts pooling down her waist and thighs. With her hair pinned back in a quick bun, the graceful slope of her neck and shoulder became visible. Xara parted the curtains, looking at her reflection in the window glass. A pair of dark brown eyes stared back at her, filled with apprehension, courage, and a bit of fear. It was only a matter of time before victory was hers.

Several minutes later, the carriage slowed down. The palace in the distance condensed into a solid building. Xara’s carriage moved through the palace gates, lawns filled with dried-up flowers and overgrown weeds. No matter how hard she tried, the neglect couldn’t be undone. Just like her, the palace was broken beyond repair.

The carriage came to a stop before the palace seconds later. Lost in her thoughts, Xara exited the carriage, planning her next day. The footman next to her said something but she wasn’t paying attention. Her regal manner restored, she elegantly walked into the reception area, eyes fixed on the marble floor, ready to sink into a hot bath to relieve her aching bones. She stifled a yawn as she crossed the threshold to the main area.

“Hello, Xara.” A deep, raspy voice stopped her in her tracks. Her head instantly snapped back, jaw dropping involuntarily.

For there stood the object of her nightmares, clad in a black military dress with the royal crest embroidered in gold. He was a good head taller than her, his short black hair curled around his nape. Threads of white mingled among the black, shooting out in a singular lightning bolt from his temples. On his head lay a sharp, silver crown studded with rubies. Her skin prickled at the sight of his dark, midnight blue eyes watching her carefully—like a predator watches its prey.

“Delton…”