Ciento uno, ciento dos, ciento tres…1
I freeze, my thoughts halting, and turn to my advisor. That was a woman’s voice. What the hell are women doing in the upper level? “Did you say something?”
Vann looks up from his sword, and his expression twists downward. “Not at all.”
Lord Lothar, my advisor in charge of the hunters, arrives at the entrance to the viewing room. Dyrn is beside him and wields a large hammer like the other men in his hunting group. They line the distance between the warriors and us.
Ciento catorce, ciento quince…2
The words are fuzzy and hard to make out, but the voice is sweet as summer berries. It is a whisper, but somehow it echoes louder than everything else in the room.
If I focus hard enough, they almost sound like the human tongue. This is bad. The giants do not bring women on their treks. If the woman does not come with them, then who has stayed behind in the palace… and why do I not recognize such a delicious voice?
My hand reaches for my sword, but before I can draw it, a sharp pain shoots through my head and burns at my neck. I stumble, grasping at the nearby table to steady myself. All the attention in the room is focused on me.
"Your Majesty, are you all right? The giants are ready to enter." The stone bender steps closer, the orb of lava following behind him.
I shake my head, trying to shake off the pain. There is one answer that could explain such pain accompanying the voice in my head, but it is impossible. “I—I don't know."
Like a miracle, the small, red and orange Fuegorra crystal embedded at the base of my throat starts to sing. The garnets and citrine crystals decorating the room join the joyful chorus. There is no such beautiful harmony, even on the Festival of Endu, where our gods sing to each other at night. No one around me reacts to the song, as if they do not hear it.
This can only mean one thing: a mate.
Amate. For me? After a century alone?
For a moment, everything in the room fades away into a distant memory as both my eyes and soul are being pulled to the other half of this harmonic call. It is intoxicating, a melody that lifts my soul and tugs at my heartstrings all at once.
I am roused by Vann. "Teo, are you well? They are almost here." The danger in his voice is clear, and I shake my head, trying to rid my skull of her enchanting presence.
After taking a deep breath to steel myself, I harness my thoughts. The pain is somehow both excruciating and pleasant. Like I am being melted and remade in the forge.
“Leave me. I am well,” I assure them, using every ounce of self-control to appear terrifying and stand up straight and push Vann away. It takes effort.
Vann inspects me for a second longer. "You are sure?"
“Let us in, Troll King,” Prince Keksej calls. He does indeed sound drunk.
I nod once to Vann, gritting my teeth against the sound of the prince and wrapping my braid around the armor on my neck to stop the burn. The distraction works well enough.
“Let them in,” I say.
My body is coiled tight, ready to meet my mate. Vann reaches into his pockets and withdraws two silvery sets of pointed teeth. Once they cover my normal canines, I open my mouth to bare the frightening jaws.
"Stay behind me," I order, my voice low and slightly altered by the weaponry.
A young hunter, Tirin, ducks into the entrance and bows deeply. “King Teo, here is First Prince Keksej, Heir to the Giant Throne.”
I nod, but my mind is elsewhere. Giants should know a little of the human tongue. Will my mate be a giant? A princess? Or, gods forbid, the queen?
No. Queen Lijasa is dead. I clench my fists and push my soldiers back—If fate has chosen to be cruel and given me a giant mate, I would endure it. Because then I would be able to have a child.
My mind is racing with possibilities of what this could mean for my people, for the relationship between us. A political alliance through mating. The benefits do not ease the ugly memories flickering in the back of my mind, nor the nausea turning my stomach into the tumultuous sea.While I gaze upon the giants.
Their heads are bent to the side in the hallway, still too tall for my palace despite the ample ceilings. My heart clenches when I see no woman in their company. Relief that there is no woman giant is quickly replaced by anger. They have hidden her from me.
What if they knew? And they brought her to torture in front of you?
I shove the thoughts aside and step forward. “Prince Keksej, welcome.” I try to use honeyed words but do not smile.