I cast her a thought.It seems you have gotten better at hiding your thoughts.
No answer. I’ll deal with her later.
When I turn back to the display, one of the giants is preparing a basket for the head. One of my hunters is kneeling on the ground, lifting the body to be returned to its home.
If our enemies were not here, I would not hesitate to cradle the body and do it all myself. I would wail and mourn for the loss of a good man in an impossible position. Another casualty.
The Second Prince looks at me with a mixture of disgust and satisfaction and claps his hand on my back. I turn to face him, death leaking out of my pores.
Giants have extremely weak lower back muscles—the perfect spot to stab when they least expect it. I could kill him now.
And ruin Tirin’s sacrifice.
As if sensing my thoughts, he snatches his hand back. "If I were you, I would be grateful we do not require you to pay back the hundreds lost in the Battle of Roark, Butcher.”
Vann hisses at my side and I push to my feet as my advisor growls, “Do not speak of battles you didn’t fight in, boy.”
Rholker holds his hands up. “Very well. We will wait for your diamonds," he says, watching his warrior stash the head carelessly.
I push aside the bone-crushing grief—the urge to scream, and wallow in the pain that I alone have caused—and sit down. The air is silent. Stony. Like the essence of a diamond.
I turn to Vann. He looks ready to start murdering anything in sight. That rage is poisonous—he needs to get away from these brutes. "You go for the diamonds and a scroll."
He leaves and I turn back to the prince. “Thenwe will begin the contract. Correct?”
The prince nods, and a silence ensues. The open air seems lifeless without the gems to sing sweetly around us. It is lonely and sad in the snow.
The quiet is interrupted by the prince. "So. Won the tiny bitch in a drinking game, did you?"
His bored expression has turned spiteful, with his legs now hanging over the side of his ridiculous seat. One of the men behind him passes him an apple.
He is immature. Letting him goad me into making even more poor choices would be like losing a game of wits to a toddler."I handle my drink exceptionally well."
A hate-filled laugh tears from his lips before he takes a bite of the fruit. "My brother was very angry about losing." The bit of fruit moves around his teeth as he speaks. I focus on that instead of his vulgarity.
"Yes, I remember."
His lips curl into a smile while he crunches. "I'm sure you do. He brought her here to punish me for taking her to my bed. Can't sleep with the slaves, and all that."
To punishhim? Estela was scared out of her mind. The effort it takes not to flatten his face hurts my insides. "It's generally a good rule."
More crunching. The sound grates on my nerves, but I keep my composure. "She's pretty enough. Small tits. Your size will be an adjustment. At least, it was for me. That's the bullshit about humans—they are just too stunted."
He... touched her. I see red. But deny myself an outward reaction. I refuse to let him win. I see the way her body looked after a thorough lashing, the way she cried. I remember the brands on her chest, two interlocking rings. Realization strikes—one for each brother.
When I touched Estela’s back, she had punched me. It was a reflex. I know what invisible scars look like. Did he give them to her? Or was it his brother?
Rholker continues, interrupting my thoughts. "You did realize that you were getting used goods, didn't you?" He spits a seed on the ground. "If you want a whore, I would happily bring you a full gaggle of them after we finish up this business. A basket of the freshest apples in the kingdom." Another bite. He's almost to the core when he holds the apple out to me. “Since you like leftovers.”
My hand tightens around the hilt of my blade, my grip white-knuckled. He is trying to provoke me. He wants to see me break, to see me lash out so he can have an excuse to kill me. I can't let that happen. I have to stay calm, to stay in control.
“You are interested in allowing humans to live with us?” I ask.
He takes the apple core back and he shrugs his shoulders. “Between us, you’d be surprised how much humans can reproduce in fifty years. We almost have too many. If you give me back the woman, I will find you as many slaves as your stony heart desires.”
“Perhaps I need workers to help rebuild my kingdom. There was a young man, practically a boy, that came to our city last time. He was taller than most humans. I would be interested in buying him,” I say, watching the prince’s face to see if recognition flickers.
The corners of his mouth turn down, a tell for his lies I’m realizing. “I’d have to check with the slavers. After you give me back the woman.”