Chapter 18: CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - SNAKE CHARMER

Torchlight from iron braziers cast dancing shadows across the obsidian table as Alistair hunched over it, fingers tapping rhythmically on a map of Calypsa and Seraveth. From the corridor behind him came muffled wails of agony, with the occasional sound of something snapping. The screams belonged to the latest prisoner - a Calypsan naval officer - who had been unfortunate enough to have been on the docks during their escape. Alistair’s concentration focused as the sounds swelled, a desperate crescendo of pleading that played like a melody to his ears. Then, abruptly, the noise ceased with a sickening crunch.

From the darkened archway, Kaelen appeared, copper hair blazing in a half-shave, half-braided style. Her tall, muscular frame moved with prideful confidence, body plated with a mix of bronze, animal bones, and leather. Fresh streaks of crimson stained her forearms, bits of gore beneath her nails as she twirled a small metal tool between her fingers. She approached without hesitation, aquamarine eyes lustfully locked on Alistair’s shirtless form; stretching across his entire body, thick bandages wrapped tightly around multiple impalement points where ice spikes had driven deep, leaving ragged holes that refused to fully close. Crimson smoke leaked from the wounds like dying sizzles of ember, and the magic oozed slowly around each site, his healing visibly slowed.

Alistair did not glance up from his work. “Had fun did we? Let’s hope you got enough information out of him first.”

“Over a week of around-the-clock torture and still kept saying he was a new recruit - wouldn’t know anything at that rank. It was a waste of time to keep going.” She tossed a pair of bloodied pliers atop the table as she lowered her eyes, sultry and smooth. “But speaking of fun…”

Kaelen brushed from behind him, hand resting against his lower region, her lips brushing against the back of his traps. “Would you like a distraction?”

Alistair’s lips pressed into a thin line as he reached for a quill, shaking her off absently. “Now’s not the time. There’s still planning to be done. We can’t afford to rest if we’re to make up for lost time.”

Kaelen pouted as she reached for a nearby cloth. “You push yourself too hard, as always. Barely just returned to Redgorn and already you’re working into the night.”

“And if I rest, who secures the fate of Seraveth?” Heavy ink blotted around a parchment as he scrawled.

“It was secured when the shard was finally broken - thanks to you. Even you need a break at some point.”

The delicate feather snapped into two spines beneath his thick fingers.

“It was broken, yes, but what I do not understand is why the shard’s full power was not relinquished. It makes no sense. The blood of one of the pillars who shattered Lunare herself courses through my very veins - that shard’s power is my right!” Alistair roared, his fury echoing off the walls. “Not to mention these damned wounds…”

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Kaelen rested her hand on his, a residual print of blood blotting his skin. “Things will return according to plan in time, Your Majesty. Then you will get your revenge on the northern duke.”

Anger rushed through him at the reminder of the insolent ice bastard that crippled him in battle, foiling the remainder of their planned attack. The volatility of his new powers absorbed from the shard’s shattering would’ve been fine to handle on its own, but the ice cage that Cassien had entrapped him within had severely weakened his constitution. It was a grueling combination that even he, a great king, had to retreat from.

He slammed his fist against the table, and the blood that stained the top of his hand blazed in a crimson burst that lit the room briefly in its aura. Kaelen stepped back, her head lowered in submission. A webbed crack was deeply embedded into the obsidian surface as he lifted his hand.

“Damn Rivain! We should’ve been able to overtake Tudor on the same night. If he hadn’t intervened, everything would’ve gone exactly as planned.”

“On the bright side, the spell scrolls proved to be invaluable. Your idea to turn the duchies against another succeeded brilliantly - that is a major advantage for us!”

“What does that matter if the execution was flawed? Even if I had a hundred ice and transmogrify scrolls, they wouldn’t compare to the full absorption of the shard.”

“Your Majesty,” she said cautiously. “Your injuries were still quite severe even by the time you returned home. It was good that you called a retreat.”

Alistair’s eyes darkened as he turned towards her. “Are you saying that I was so weak that my only choice was to pull back?”

Kaelen pulled her hands behind her, eyes widened. “No, that’s not-”

“If we are to speak of weakness, then maybe we should look again as to why you were not present at Tudor,” he spat venomously.

“Your Majesty, you know why I was not-”

Before she could continue, Alistair slammed his fist down on the table once more, sending a wide crack across the thickness of the obsidian. “You were supposed to be fighting by my side-”

“But I was with child-” She stuttered, though regret seeped in immediately after as his expression twisted.

Alistair’s emerald gaze sharpened, like the narrowing slits of a snake. Before she could react, his large hand shot forward, gripping her jaw with a force that was almost intimate - but acutely firm. His nails dug in, crescents pressed into her skin. Kaelen held her breath, eye contact unbroken and steeling her body with false confidence - she knew that there was nothing he hated more than weakness.

“I could have almost forgiven your absence,” he hissed. “if you had truly carried my heir to fruition.” His eyes bore into hers, merciless. “But your inability to even do so contributed to the detriment of our victory. And now look at the state I’m in.”

Alistair’s hand lingered as a dark smile curled at the corner of his mouth, twisted menace flipping in an instant to affection. His grip loosened into a soft caress around her cheek, his finger tracing her trembling lips.

“I… I would’ve rather been at your side,” Kaelen whispered, bright blues entranced. “I swear to you, I will tear down Calypsa, brick by brick, in your name. My sword will always be yours to wield.”

“I believe you,” he murmured, his crooked smile dangerously alluring. “You know I don’t like it when you leave me no choice but to reprimand you. Hurting you… is the only pain worth noticing.”

Kaelen’s breath hitched as his hands moved down and around her hips, hoisting her atop the obsidian. His breath was hot against her ear, tongue grazing her skin. “Maybe you’re right - I have been pushing myself too much.”

Her eyes shimmered at the affection, his cruelty either willfully forgotten or blissfully ignored, as he closed what little distance remained between them.