The Poisoned Throne

Chapter 33

Elizabeth

Anyone at court could have killed her now. There were guards, yes, but they were not to much use when all her force had gone south and been defeated. If a person decided to kill her now, then that person would probably be knighted and given some great prize for their actions when Evelyn came to the capital. In fact, Elizabeth expected it. She expected death to arrive around every corner. By some insane luck - or was it the opposite? - it did not arrive.

“It’s all over,” she told Jamie the night after the defeat. There was no sadness or desperation in her voice. It was flat and emotionless. “Eric left me. He’s in the North now. Evelyn is on her way, too. At least Aryavan went back to his forest.”

Jamie pressed his lips together but remained silent.

“You should leave,” she told him. “Evelyn won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“I hope not.”

She looked at him, inspecting his words. “You’ve never lied to me before,” she stated. “I hope that was your first time.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It was not.”

She leaned her back against the stone was, arm limp by her side, still holding onto her empty cup of wine. She let her head fall back, exhausted and hopeless. “You should,” she said. “Don’t let me have your death on my conscience.”

“You know that I can’t,” he told her. “There is no way I can leave you.”

She raised her head. “I should’ve married you,” she told him and raised her glass. He picked up the pitcher and walked to her to fill it up. She downed it all at once and let her arm fall back down. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

He let his gaze fall to the space between their feet. “You don’t love me,” he said.

“Love,” she spat.

She took the pitcher from his hands. Once her cup was full, it was empty and she threw it to the side. She barely noticed the loud crash when it smashed into the wall and clattered to the floor.

She let out a small laughter. “Do you think I loved Erich?” She shook her head and drank. “I haven’t ever loved anyone,” she continued. “Never. Well.” She shrugged and took another sip. “Not in that way. I loved my sister and my father and my mother.”

Once her cup was empty, she threw it to the side as well. Evelyn can take my kingdom, but she will have to replace a lot of dinnerware, she thought to herself and giggled. Her head spun pleasurably.

“And I love you,” she said. “Not the way you love me, but I still do.”

He closed the distance between them, pressing her up against the stone behind her, and kissed her hard. His lips quickly moved down to her neck, where his heavy breathing tickled her hairs and she let her eyes fall closed.

It was a matter of pulling up her skirts and unlacing his trousers. It was a quick matter, too, and rough and dirty and clumsy - not at all the way she had expected it to be with Jamie. However, they were both drunk and flat and emotionless, and soon to be dead.

Once they were finished, they straightened out their clothing. She avoided kissing him. She wondered if he thought that was a sign she was angry with him and took his hand.

“Is Ishmael here, too?” she asked.

He nodded. “And Thyrdís and Baldur. They’re all waiting for you.”

He took her to a small dining room. There were only five ashmen left, including Thyrdís and Baldur, but Elizabeth expected the other three had left. But when she entered, it was not just Thyrdís, Ishmael and Baldur standing together; in their midst, a man the size of a mountain stood.