The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King

In a dark world, eyes naturally find the light.

“End it,” he said, and pulled her wrist. And he did not look away from those eyes as he died, by the hand of the only person who deserved to kill him.

Whoever was knocking. I knew who was fucking knocking. I didn’t move.

“Knock on that door,” I breathed, “one more fucking time.” My husband smiled at me, lowering his raised fist, which had indeed been ready to knock one more fucking time. “There she is.”

But Mother, I would take a dagger over Raihn’s hands—would rather feel a blade than his fingertips brushing my skin, far too gently.

A previous version of myself, the one buried beneath the dozens of layers of ice I put between my emotions and the surface of my skin, would have been curious.

If I was supposed to be moved by this show of… of generosity, or kindness, or whatever the fuck this was supposed to be, I wasn’t. I sat and didn’t look at Raihn.

Despite the Mark, the crown, the wings, they still saw a Turned slave. Fuck them.

The door burst open, the slam against the walls splitting the silence like a sword through flesh. Vale stood in the doorway.

Vale stood in the doorway.

I had a blessing from a goddess and an ugly magical tattoo I couldn’t get rid of. Yet it was Vale who was going to give me “legitimacy.”

The consensus, after hours of talking, was that we were in deep shit.

Vale thought it was stupid that I had taken Septimus’s deal. He thought it was very stupid that I had done so without negotiating his terms. And he thought it was monumentally stupid that I had kept Oraya alive.

“I am trying to keep you alive, Oraya,” he said, voice low. “And it’s hard fucking work, alright? I know none of it is ideal. But I’m trying.”

It was time to fucking fight.

There is nothing more dangerous than a bargain. No greater horrors than those you choose. No worse fate than one you beg for.

“This is what I did not miss about this job,” he muttered, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Working with incompetence.”

Why? Because if I let you go, I’m committing treason against my own throne. Because if I let you go, I’ll have no choice but to fight against you out there. Because if I let you go, you become my enemy in earnest. And I can’t kill you, princess. I’ve tried. I can’t. Too many damned words. Too much honesty.

“Well?” I rasped. “Are you going to kill me, princess?” I really wanted to know. Maybe tonight would finally be the night.

My blade pressed to Raihn’s chest, for the second time. You want to do it, so do it. And I didn’t. Couldn’t. Even with his heart right there for the taking.

“I don’t think we need to ask stupid questions that we all know the answers to, right?” His voice was low, rough. Teasing, with a dark edge. “Oraya doesn’t like games.”

I choked out, “And what the fuck does one do with the teeth of the God of Death?”

“Put it on,” he said. I didn’t. “Why?”
“Because I said so.”

I allowed myself to be manipulated into an alliance that I didn’t want, into a deal I can’t get out of, and now here we fucking are.”

Raihn and his performances.

“What is your word worth?”
“Not much. It’s seen better days. A little banged-up. But it’s all I have to offer, unfortunately.”

“Because we’re supposedly allies again, and allies don’t lock each other up every night.”
“I have some allies I certainly wish I could lock up,” I remarked.

“What did you think we were going to do? Send a couple of servants to go search for us?” At my flat stare, Raihn laughed. “My, how you’ve adjusted to royal life, Your Highness.”
“Fuck you,” I muttered.

“Wouldn’t it be smarter if you stayed here? A king shouldn’t leave his castle unguarded.”
“A king shouldn’t leave his queen unguarded, either, especially not one as prone to getting into trouble as you.”

“Look at this.” I leapt to my feet, thrusting my hand out to the view of Lahor below us—this dead, pathetic, broken city, a mere ghost of what it once was. Just like me.

His mouth twisted into a wry smirk. “Love is fucking terrifying,” he murmured. “I think that’s true no matter who you are.”

I never knew something could look so beautiful flying away.

“Mm,” I said, between bites. “I’ll take that as, ‘Delicious, Raihn. Thank you for this meal cooked with love, and also for saving my life.’”

He huffed a laugh. “I guess I’ve earned that face. But I’d come too far to let one woman with a knife bring me down.” Then, after a pause, “Well. That woman with a knife. Met another one who was a whole different story.”

Feels like it’s all cursed. This crown. Maybe the only way to survive as a ruler of this place is to become just like the ones who came before you. And that—that terrifies me. I’d kill myself before I let that happen, and I hope that if I couldn’t, you’d do it instead.”

“To die, rather than killing you?” he said quietly. “Yes. That would have been worth it. Even I had to draw a line somewhere. And you’re the line, Oraya.”

Mother, I was a fucking masochist. Asking questions with answers I didn’t know what to do with.

Humans mourn time, because it’s the only currency that really matters in a life so short.

“I’m fine,” I said. Mische said softly, “You don’t have to be fine.” She said it so simply. Like it was just a truth, nothing to be judged or disagreed with. I knew that she believed it, and in this moment, I loved her fiercely for that.

“Long day, huh?” The smile softened. “Long week. Long month.”

I scoffed. “You’re a dreamer.”
“Couldn’t have made it this far if I wasn’t.”

“Sometimes the little things are harder than the big things.”

“No,” he said. “I’ll tell you a tale of a prince of the House of Blood.” Oh. About himself. That figured.

“I understand what it feels like to not have time. You and I, we don’t get centuries to play our games like they do. And I think it makes us better. More ruthless. More willing to do what needs to be done.”

“I know better than to make a deal with a desperate man,” I said. “Besides, you’re right. I am tired of being caged. I recognize bars when I see them.”

“I’ve got to believe in love, Raihn. The world is sad enough.” My eyes slipped to the other side of the ballroom, to the one painting that still remained from Vincent’s reign. That lone Rishan man, falling to his death, reaching for something that was never going to reach back.

It looked fake. But not his stare. That was… too revealing. He shouldn’t be looking at me like that here. Not with all these people watching.

The smile that Raihn gave Simon was barely even the facade of anything but a threat—wide enough to expose the sharpest points of his teeth. “She’s mine,” he said. “I don’t share.”

Feeling possessive? I wanted to say, but before I could, he growled, “Stay the fuck away from him. If you want to hurt me, do it in other ways.”

“Good. If you’re going to play the game, can’t quit just when it starts to get interesting.”