“David?”
“Mm?”
“Why didn't you tell me about the dagger?”
He sighed and rolled up on his elbow, placing his hand firmly over mine. “I didn't want to break your heart. We fought so hard to be together, and you—” He squeezed my hand. “You wanted to die after you were tortured. And that was only because you thought I was dead. So, what would happen to you if you had to be here, alone, ruling, doing things you didn't believe you were capable of, if you also had the burden of losing me?”
My eyes watered.
“I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Ara. I am. I wanted to, and that’s why I stayed away. In fact, I laid here—” He pointed to the pillows. “I came to you one night, laid here for hours telling you everything, and in that one perfect moment, as I stroked your cheek, you smiled, and for the first time ever in my life, I felt like everything would be okay.”
I laid a hand gently to his cheek. “It will.”
“No.” He pulled away. “It won’t. It can’t be, and that single moment I let myself believe it would caused more pain than I ever knew existed, because I was forced to realise then that I’d never feel like that again.”
“But it doesn't have to be that way, David.” I grabbed his hand and held it tight. “You don't have to kill Drake.”
“Yes, I do. He will come for you, Ara. He will come for our baby one day, and I can't—” He shook his head, searching for words. “I can't live with that fear. I need you safe. I need our people safe.”
“I won't lose you,” I said, and it was non-negotiable.
He looked at me, seeing my thoughts, seeing my strengths, but none of what I felt seemed to matter to him at all. “You will, Ara. There is no choice. It takes the hand of a king to use that dagger, and I am the only king.”
“There are hundreds of people who would take that role and kill Drake, David. It doesn't have to be you.”
“I am the only rightful king,” his voice grew louder.
“There are ways around it,” I said sternly.
And his body shifted, his shoulders going back as he saw the words in my mind: king by right of heir. “No.”
“Why?” I stood up as he appeared across the room by the fireplace.
“Just…no.”
“David, I would do anything to—”
“It’s out of the question.”
“But it would save our forever.”
“No. It would destroy it, Ara!” He spun around to look at me. “Do you think I would ever be able to touch you again if you’d been with another man?”
I sunk back a bit. “I wouldn’t have to sleep with anyone to do it.”
He frowned at me.
“IVF, turkey baster…” I suggested.
He turned away. “I couldn’t live with myself if you had to go through that just to save me.”
“But you’d be living. And I know, from experience, that you can get past just about anything that happens to you, David. You were burned on the fire—you caught me with my legs around Mike. You can get past a damn turkey baster.”
He went ultra still and ultra quiet for a second, then turned around again, his whole body shaking with laughter.
“What are you laughing at?” I asked, trying not to smile.
“Turkey baster.”
And I couldn’t help it. I laughed too.
He wandered over and placed a hand to the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss on the brow, my favourite kind of kiss. “My love, it’s a good idea, but I'm the king. It’s my job to die for our people—for you. I swore that in my oath, and that is what I’ll do.”
I stepped back. “No.”
He smiled conceitedly. “You have no say. Arthur gave me the dagger, Ara. I'm leaving for Paris in a month to kill Drake, and you can either enjoy this time with me, or you can waste it being mad.”
Paris? Which meant Arthur hadn't given him the real dagger, because I knew, and Arthur knew, that Drake was in Romania. I propped my hands on my hips, a challenging grin marking my lips. “Fine. I’ll take door number two.”
“Ara, be reasonable.”
“Me? Me be reasonable? You’re talking about going to your death, taking our forever and throwing it away, and I don't get any say!” I leaned forward on each word. “And you just think I should sit back and take it!”
“Yes.”
“No!” I stomped my foot. “I won't, David. If you go . . . if you go to kill him, I . . . I’ll do something stupid while you're gone.”
He stepped into me. “Like what?”
I shrugged out of his grip. “I’ll sleep with Arthur and make him king.”
His jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I held strong; my shoulders straight, head high.
“Ara.” He grabbed my arm firmly. “If you touch him—” He shook his head, his teeth like a cage behind his lips. “If you . . . I’ll kill him. And God help me, Ara, I wouldn't be able to stop myself.” He dropped my arm and turned away. “So, if you think for one second that having a child with him will save our forever, you’re wrong.”
“No. I'm not, because it’d mean you’d be alive.”
“But I will hate you.”
“I can live with that better than your death.”
His eyes narrowed, the stern, scary David resting just behind that green gaze. “I am going to tell you something, young lady, and you are going to listen.” He grabbed both my arms and moved me to sit on the chair.
I plonked down clumsily, keeping my eyes on David's as he squatted in front of me, composing himself.
“You will do as you are told. I am king, and I will kill Drake. I will not have you touching or carrying the child of another man.” His voice shook with anger. “This will not be negotiated, and if you even think about going against me, I will have you locked in a cell until word of Drake's death has been received. Do I make myself clear?”
The little girl inside me shook, nodding her head, but the woman I felt growing deep in my soul every day stood taller, readying her sword. “You can't ask me to accept your death, David.”
“I'm not.” He stood up. “I'm telling you to.”
“God!” I stood up too, and stomped my foot again. “Why do you have to be like this? I'm not one of your minions. I'm not someone you can boss around. I am the goddamn queen, and I! Have power! Over you! Maybe I’ll lock you in a cell, and not let you out until I kill Drake.”