A Crown Of Blades(ARTK, Book 3)

Chapter 115-116

Juhna 27th,3330 A.G

  Every single one of the sellswords showed up not a hundred moments after she'd called for them-but not every single one looked happy about it. A few closer to the back paced, one tapped their foot- and one at the front openly sighed and picked under his nails.

"Do I bore you?" Nara asked from atop her throne, an eyebrow raised. "If so I'm sure you could quickly find another lady to service."

"Meaning your grace no offense- but it isn't you that bores me. I was servicing a lady, a very beautiful one who works in your kitchens- before you called us here. Now I'd like to get back to her as soon as possible, should that be suitable." Though his face were expressionless, the two next to him struggled not to laugh. Men. So easily amused. "I would assume you're familiar with the procedure, given the state of you. I was fucking a beautiful woman and now I am only looking at one, so you understand why I am annoyed- don't you? I mean it's-"

"I could have your tongue out." Nara leaned on her hand.

She could have him hung, pull his eyes or worse out- but she found that she weren't in the mood for such. She were here to see bent knees and nothing more.

"You could, I suppose." The sellsword sighed again. "But it would be so, so boring. How old is that punishment? A thousand years? Two thousand? Do you really want to associate yourself with a method the last king, your ancestor- called cowardly on more than one occasion-"

One of the men standing beside him elbowed him in the stomach so hard he lost balance and fell, though he were still attempting not to laugh. "Begging your pardons, your grace. He has never known when to shut up. When we were younger men my father nearly killed him for claiming he'd fucked my sister- he had of course but the man didn't need to know that. I assume... you have called us here for a reason?"

Of course she had. She were reaching the stage where every single step were a struggle, where she could not see her own feet- where even sword wielding brought about so much exhaustion she'd immediately need to lay down. She knew the babe or babes inside of her were not ready to come into the world yet, but she could not help how many times she'd thought about Hastening the process. She'd asked Ysmen once- more like commanded her to tell her the methods, and they'd seemed simple enough. Pickled Hot peppers with every meal, laying with Renard when her time was near-

But none of those things appealed to her at the moment, so the babe or babes would stay right where they were.

"If Drogo is alive, he will come back to us." Nara said. "It isn't in his nature to abandon any vow."

That, and she didn't know what she'd do if he didn't. It would draw out the timeline of her helping to avenge Segar Whittaker , but beyond that..... she weren't sure she could exercise restraint in dealing with whoever killed Drogo.

They would die slowly, for sure. If they were lucky she'd grow bored after decades of torture, if not- she could carry that on until she met her own grace. Because there were very few in the world she could say she trusted with one hundred percent certainty- and he were one of them. It were only fair that she protected those willing to protect her, that she avenged those willing to do the same.

She'd had two dreams since he left; one horrid one where he'd been in some torture chamber and another where he'd been attacked on some Cralonese road- but she'd tried to forget them. They were only dreams, she told herself. What were the odds that a non-witch had more than one prophetic in their entire life?

"Of course he will." The smarter sellsword agreed. "But... forgive me my queen, it is you he will return to and not for some vow of sense of duty to us."