Honey, does this taste like poison to you?
I've never been a fan of murder. The mess, the smell, the whole hiding the body thing after - it always seemed like way too much work.
But trust me, when you're married to Richard Morningstar, that "work" starts to feel an awful lot like "play".
The man is a snake and king of the fairies. A barbarian. A war monger. A sex god.
Uh, I mean a...a sick pod?
Doesn't matter. The point is, it's either him or me. Because one of us is going to die, and at the moment, it's my execution scheduled in two weeks.
So I just have to figure out a way to kiss him - kill him - before then, take his throne, and turn his whole nightmarish kingdom upside down.
Easy right?
Maybe - if the guy wasn't freaking immortal.
----------
CHAPTER ONE EXCERPT
ONE
Rules are meant to be followed.
Unless you can find a loophole.
-Richard
I lounged back in my seat, a shot of ambrosia in my scarred hand. Swirling the honey-coloured liquid around the glass, I locked eyes with the High Scholar.
“I’ve crushed the Vylian forces to the north,” I said slowly. “I’ve fended off the Great Beast every year. And now you’re telling me that I must bow to a single piece of paper?”
The man swallowed, his eyes flicking to the black and purple tiles beneath his feet. “Well, no. I mean, yes. I mean –”
“Breathe, Scholar…while you still have the luxury of being able to.”
The next swallow was damn near audible.
“It’s not just…” The man pulled at his collar, the bright purple fabric doing little to hide his paling complexion. “Not just a piece of paper that’s…that’s stopping you,” he stammered. “It’s a High Law of Oyveni’s.”
My eyes narrowed. I hated hearing that fucking name. If the bitch wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her myself. And if I had the power to go back through time, I’d finish her whole damn line, including her pet toad. Oyveni’s laws had been a pain in my ass since before I’d taken the throne. It was because of her that I’d been forced to kill my younger sister rather than just banish her.
I’d been forced to kill my older sister too, but she at least had deserved it.
My fingers tightening on my glass, I forced such memories aside. “Which says what?” I demanded.
“That…that the Timeless Laws…” The High Scholar took a deep breath, his hands fidgeting in his traditional robes. He twisted the fabric round and round his pudgy fingers before finally looking up – but his deep blue eyes never did find mine. “They cannot be changed without the signature of a king –”
“Which it has,” I growled.
The man flinched. His eyes darted back down to the floor. “And a…and a queen.”
Everything inside me stilled. I raised my glass to my lips, fury tightening my brows. For nearly two decades I’d ruled on my own, had protected them from every danger, and now they required me to have a queen? A woman I would be forced to share my power with? My vision? I took a sip from my glass and placed it lightly on the table. Smiling viciously, I drawled, “A queen, you say?”
The man’s whole head ducked to the floor. “Y-yes.” He gulped.
“And does the Court have anyone in particular in mind?”
“Evangeline.”
Fucking Petre.
The weasel had been trying to secure her daughter on the throne for over four decades. Evangeline was a beauty, sure, but she’d be so much prettier if she had been born mute. Our marriage would barely last long enough for the ink to dry. And then we’d be having a funeral.