Saebane recounted the night's events with vivid detail at lunch the next day, evoking a series of grins across the Spiderweb. Arabella hadn't been there, thankfully, but his father had. Urnald said nothing as Saebane boasted, though his complexion blanched. He would be scalding with shame, but Frederick no longer cared. He would be the king his father always intended him to be, even if he would be a pathetic one, and now he needn't concern himself with matters of honor and appearance.

It never fucking mattered.

So let Urnald see what was becoming. Frederick hoped he choked and died on it.

When lunch was over, the vampyres took to circling him constantly, slipping in sly remarks when they knew only he could hear them. It continued all day long and would last for days yet to come. Months, possibly. Years.

He didn't care.

He didn't.

He ...

He'd been harmed many times throughout his life.

He'd been broken and reshaped both physically and mentally by the Gentle King. By loss. By war.

But he always repaired.

And long after the blood rinsed from his skin what lingered in his mind was a hatred so strong it fueled him. Drove him.

But he knew now that what happened last night ... abuse of a sexual sort. Those left an entirely different pain. They stayed. Stained. They took away any illusions of power and rendered its victims weak.

It left behind no burning hatred. If it had, then maybe he could hold his head up high. He would have the energy to plot and seethe, the patience to wait for Saebane to get what was coming to him. Instead, Frederick felt overwhelmingly defeated. Diminished. Thinking about it was more than he could take but he hid it all.

What pained the most was knowing he wasn't forced. Not strictly. It had happened precisely as Saebane said: I've never had to force myself on anyone, Your Highness. And I mean anyone.

And this was what he meant. Frederick had willingly volunteered himself for Saebane's bedroom sport to spare Arabella for some of it. Any of it. He stayed and participated so that she wouldn't have to do it alone, but now that she wasn't with him he felt so ...

Defiled.

If only he had been allowed to stay with her, then maybe he wouldn't be reduced to something so cheapened. He'd chosen to participate in that degradation only to have it hurt more when he closed the door and left her behind all over again. He went to bed. Alone. His head filled with nothing but her. His mouth tainted with the taste of her tormentor.

Ara ...

Was this the horseshit prostitutes were subjected to? Was this the reality for men like Gheorge. But Frederick knew that Gheorge wouldn't give a damn. He might just blow his naysayers a kiss and ask if they wanted to find out just how good a cocksucker was. So the next vampyre to taunt Frederick would receive the same response.

Tonight, he forced himself to assume his throne before the sorcerer could sit in it. The courtiers gathered for Saebane's never-ending festivities, a murmur of gossip about the place as they had no doubt learned of what happened. Even some soldiers dared to cast him curious glances.

It took no time for one vampyre to near him, two others at his back. They all smirked. Frederick forced a bravado he didn't feel and raised a brow. He would look them in the eye the way Gheorge would. Give them the bored stare of a king and dare them to challenge him.

Don't let them see you're wounded. Don't let them see you're hurt. Hold your head up high and let these motherfuckers have it.

"Do you have a taste for it now, cocksucker?" the closest said, the red on his chest stark against the black of his leather. "We each have cocks if you need something to suckle on?"

They all laughed.

Frederick twisted his mouth into something ruthless and ready, borrowing something purely Gheorge until it would become natural, knowing well that one day he would get the chance to kill each of these bastards-

The doors to the Great Hall opened and slammed against the walls. Arabella entered, striding in with sure, aggressive steps. "You. Come here."

The other two vampyres were quick to retreat but not the first, and Arabella had him by the scruff of his armor. A jab to his face sent him reeling. She snarled like a wild animal as she pummeled, blood splattering across her cheek. She was rabid. Unhinged.

Without mercy.

She didn't stop until the vampyre's head was no more than pulp as it slipped through her hands, and she discarded him before turning to address the court. "Anyone else want to make some charming comment to the King of Thescan?" she called, flicking blood from her fingertips. "Any takers at all? I'm in a stunning mood just spoiling for someone to ask me to dance. Any fucking takers?"

Hastos came forward, the other vampyres stepping well away as if to signify that they were not associated with whatever he was about to say. "I think you forget that we are under the master's protection. We answer to him. And the last time you harmed one of us you spent the night being tortured in prison. Are you stupid enough to do it again?"

Gasps sounded around the hall.

She loosed upon him a smile that was somehow terrifying in its vacancy. "And you forget, Hastos, that Saebane didn't save the vampyre I killed. He certainly didn't get here in time to save your comrade today. Maybe tonight is the night he cannot save you." She advanced, and he backed into the crowd to get away from her. "I might be punished, but I'll be alive after today, pet. And I've been dying for the chance to rip your fucking throat out. Just give me a reason." She reached him and ran a bloody black nail along his throat. "Say one little word and you're done. Just one word is all it takes to arouse my legendary temper."

Hastos dropped his gaze.

"Smart boy," she purred. She smeared a bloody finger over his lips, causing him to wince. "I still hear you cry at night. It pleases me. To know I will be in your every nightmare until the day you die. And I'll be there on the day you die. In fact, I'll be the one who kills you, sweet."

Her face became the picture of boredom as she seemingly lost interest and turned away, leaving the vampyre quivering. "Drag the corpse out of the hall, but I want everyone here to remember it well. It will be you next if you dare insult the king again. Respect is not optional."

Queen. The word clapped over his brain like thunder.

She was his queen, his defender, and he didn't deserve her for a single second.

A vampyre from the Spiderweb took the body away, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Arabella paid them no mind as she made her way up the dais, crunching her skirt in bloody fists as she reached Frederick. She sat by his side without a word, and this close to her he could see her eyes were bloodshot.

None of them spoke until the forced chatter of the hall resumed, and Frederick was the first to break the quiet between them. "What will that cost you now, Ara?"

She clenched her knuckles until they cracked. "I'll kill them. All of them. I don't care what it costs me to do it or how long it takes me to do it."

"You told me to pick my battles," he said quietly. "You didn't need to do that."

"I don't care," she rasped. "No one will speak that way to you. No one."

Emotion clenched his throat, as he suspected it did hers, and the both of them remained there, watching the world move while they could sit there and do nothing about it.

"I cannot believe what he did last night," she said. "That he would-"

"Don't. I would rather not talk about it. You know it all already."

"I'll kill him," she breathed. "I'll kill him for what he's doing to you. The bastard doesn't even like men. He just wants power over you."

"It's no less than I deserve for what I did to you," Frederick said, meeting her eyes. "If you're to suffer, then I'm to suffer with you. That is the way of it now. We suffer together."

"Frederick-"

"I meant what I said to you, Ara."

Her body jolted with alarm. "Don't say it again."

"Know that I'm sorry. I was late to realize how good you were to me. Too stupid to treasure what we had. But I know what I feel for you now. And that's why if I can't free you, then by the gods, I'll suffer with you, Ara. Because I love you."

The trembling in her hands was slight. "I don't want you to suffer. I want you to live. Don't say yes to him next time he asks you to join us. I mean it. Because I love you, too."

He wanted to groan with triumph, biting his lip to stop from making a sound.

She loved him still. After what he put her through. After what they did last night.

She loved him.

He leaned against her ear, causing her shoulders to tense. "You think I wouldn't suck a thousand cocks just for one night inside you?"

Her sharp note of laughter took them both by surprise, and she dropped her head into her hands with a whimper, smearing her temple with crimson. "This isn't funny."

He shrugged. "It's true. If there's another chance to be with you, I'll gladly take it. No matter what the cost."

"Freddie this is killing me," she whispered. "I don't want you to suffer. Not for me. You don't have to subject yourself to this." She gripped her elbows and stared at the floor. "It's killing me. Killing me."

He reached for her. "Ara-"

"I once swore to you that I would never be unfaithful to you. I swore it. And now-" She turned her face away, gripping her stomach as she rocked. "I promised you. I intended for you to be the last lover I ever took. But now that promise means nothing. I did not keep my promise to the only person I wanted to keep."

"Stop," Frederick said, resting his palm on her back. "This isn't betrayal. What he's forcing you to do is something entirely different. Do you think these idiots could convince me otherwise? Anyone with eyes can see it."

She wiped her eyes, leaving a faint smudge of red on her cheekbone. "I wanted to be true. I did."

"You still are. Loyal to me in the only ways that ever mattered." The ceiling blurred in his vision. "Gods, I've been such a fool."

Everything in the Great Hall became nothing. He heard nothing. Could see nothing. All he could do was sit there as Arabella wept silently at his side. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He just wanted it to be over.

"Say it once more," he whispered finally. "Just once."

"Greedy man. Will you ever stop being so greedy?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't think so."

She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "I love you."

He shivered. "I love you, too."

She rested her hand on his knee and squeezed it. And he did not mind it. The blood wetting him from where she touched him. The blood he'd wet his own hands with in her name if given the opportunity. And he would get the opportunity. He swore it.

But from now on, if she fought, he fought. She bled, he bled. It was that simple. The two of them bonded in love. In blood. In war and revenge.

In everything.

The doors opened, and Saebane strolled in. Frederick was quick to remove his touch from her, but Arabella's hand remained on his leg. Saebane regarded the both of them with mild interest, and by the look on his face, Frederick could tell that Arabella was no longer willing to hide what she felt for him. Not from the sorcerer or anyone else.

And neither was he.

#

Frederick would later sit by his unlit fireplace, immersed in the darkness and silence of his room after the sorcerer had defiled him in the next unimaginable way. And tonight Saebane had tampered with something critical, something that unmanned him and reduced him to nothing, nothing, nothing.

And all he could do now was stare into nothing.

When it was done and Saebane had dismissed him to attend to the prostitute in his bed, Arabella lowered to his side, her fingers soothing as they strummed along his scalp. Her eyes held such rage it took his breath away.

Fix it, he begged silently. Help me.

She'd lowered to kiss the corner of his mouth. Once. Twice. Thrice. Her sweetness, her care. It unleashed something in him, and he snatched her jaw and seized her lips. He kissed her as desperately as he'd longed to kiss her. The both of them on the floor kissing for what might have been hours.

Nothing more than that.

Nothing more than being able to hold his wife as he was meant to hold her, smell her, breathe her in.

Remain just that way.

The two of them had given in to their desires to be perfect fools, and he soon became afraid to pull away from her. But eventually he had to leave her again, and this time Saebane had seen it all between them-the love. The longing.

What would happen next ... Frederick could only guess.

A presence filled the room then, seeping into the space to make the darkness more foreboding, causing every hair on his body to freeze. Gheorge once asked if he really couldn't feel that presence. Frederick wondered now how he could have ever missed it.

He rested his glass against his temple, leaning heavily on the armrest of his chair. "Tessande. To what do I owe the pleasure of another one of these ... clandestine meetings?"

"How did you know I was here?" she asked.

It had taken Frederick awhile, but finally, Gheorge's training started to make sense. Being back in the Thescan castle meant he had no choice but to focus on every presence that neared his door, fearing Saebane was around the corner. Both Saebane and Tessande were of the sorcerer species, and both beings brought with them a sense of dread. An energy crackled in the air to announce them, as though the universe couldn't contain all that they were. "Have you come to call me a cocksucker like all the rest? Do it if you must, then go. I tire."

A slash of white signified her grin in the dark. "Judging by that posture of yours, I'd say you've done much more now than just sucked cock. Freddie is a virgin no more."

He wanted to show no reaction-wanted to-but he could not stop himself from cringing. "What do you want?"

She circled the room, her eyes shimmering with marked intent. "Such an interesting tactic you've chosen to employ, Frederick, but I wonder ... What do you hope it will prove, this letting him see what you two are like together? What you're really like. Did you think giving in to his garish request to watch the both of you fuck would slake his sick interest in you."

"Not at all," Frederick said. "I wanted the bastard to see."

"You did?" she said, her tone somewhat awed. "Now why would that be, I wonder?"

He shook his head. "I'll save you the speculation and tell you that I just wanted to spare her from any of his attentions. If I can take away even one thing from her, then gladly I will. No matter what it is or how meaningless it might seem in the scheme of things."

She went quiet, as if contemplating his words.

"Tessande, let me ask you something as the fast friend I'm becoming to you." She snorted. "Is your vendetta with Arabella over now that you've been reunited with your mate?"

"With my-" She paused. "Who told you about my mate?"

"Saebane sent him to you, did he not? Ledromas. Though I can't imagine why you would want someone as heinous as that."

"I wouldn't. That's why I killed him."

Frederick straightened. "You killed him?"

"Without a second thought. I'll have no mystical tie to a monster such as that. Knowing he was alive ate away at my sanity for centuries. I killed him the moment Saebane sent him back to me."

Killed him.

She'd killed him?

"Why did you kill him?" he asked. "He was your mate, after all. And to have hatred like that ... I'm starting to think of theories."

"Why don't you tell me what those theories might be."

He chose not to answer her straight away, searching for the right words. "Every creature kept in the Spiderweb was some deplorable monster. Killers. Rapists. Child abusers. Enemies of the world." He raised a brow at her. "He was all of them, wasn't he? And it burned your blood to know he was alive."

She said nothing.

"That's what Saebane does to Arabella every day."

"You can't make me feel sorry for her, Frederick. But nice try."

"You shouldn't feel sorry for her, Tessande. You should feel outraged. Outraged that your enemy-your equal-has been detained by some less than sporting magical means. She is a woman. And though you two love to fight, how can you be allying with a monster like Saebane, a being who goes against everything you couldn't stand in your own mate." He examined his glass. "They want me to believe you're an evil bitch, but you aren't. The answer is far more complicated. You only let people see what they want to see."

"I could tell him all of this," Tessande said. "Tell him everything you're saying."

Frederick shrugged. "Do it if you wish, but I don't think you will. You might hate him worse than you hate her, and deep down you and I both know that she doesn't deserve this. Not really."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" she asked. "When my knowing it could cost you everything."

Water filled Frederick's eyes as he stared at the blackened fireplace. "Because if I have to be at anyone's mercy, it shouldn't be his. It should be yours."

"You make no sense."

"You're smarter than him. Stronger than him." He glanced back at her. "Yes, you're stronger than him. It took me awhile to figure out, but I have. He hasn't killed you or tried to-quite the opposite. He has welcomed you as a guest night after night."

"How did you-"

"He's done nothing but work hard to appease you. That is because you have more power, isn't it? He's right to fear you. Because you're the one who helped him take Arabella down. You're the one who gave him the collar."

"You-" The silence thickened, and Frederick waited patiently for Tessande to choose her next words. "What makes you think I'm the one that gave him the collar?"

"You don't want that information known, then."

"Get to your point," she said with a snarl of warning.

"He's been resurrected by Rycard, but he hasn't gone mad like mere mortals have, and that's because he isn't a mortal. He still has the focus and iron will of a sorcerer. But even so, it would have taken him a while to re-master any semblance of the power and strength he had before. He might have been strong once-and he might be again-but he isn't as strong as he wants to be right now. Hence, his obsessive mission to find the Chalice. He wants us all to think it's because he wants to be a ruler in the Star, but he needs it to give him more power before we all find out what he's no longer capable of. But I'm not supposed to know that, am I?"

She said nothing, so he continued. "He couldn't have conjured a spell complex enough to keep Arabella's power completely leashed. That collar took more cunning and power than he could spare. That collar must have come from a powerful sorcerer-or sorceress. That collar came from you."

She grinned, giving him the answer he sought.

"You could take it all away," Frederick said finally. "Without that collar she could end him, couldn't she?"

"But I won't," she said smugly. "Arabella's where she deserves to be."

"Then you're a bigger coward than he is," Frederick snapped. "If this is how you've chosen to end your nemesis then you have no honor."

"This isn't about honor."

"No, it's about spite. How disappointing. Pathetic."

"Pathetic?" she hissed, nearing him in jerky strides. "There isn't anything pathetic about it."

"Her capture is entirely to your credit, and yet you don't want her to know." Frederick raised a brow. "That's because it's cheap and underhanded, and on the slight chance she breaks free you don't want her to come after you because this time she'll end you."

"I'm not some human with some weak ego you can shatter," she said, standing over him. "Your mind games will not work on me."

He shrugged. "I don't need mind games. You'll realize the truth of what I'm saying all on your own." He stared her down. "It's over. You won. You got what you wanted and killed your mate. You no longer have a vendetta against her-not one worth carrying to this extent. So do what needs to be done, Tessande. Free her. Or end this bastard yourself."

She shook her head. "Don't make an enemy out of me."

"I'm not trying to," he said brokenly. "I'm trying to fix what I ruined. You are the only hope I have and without you ..." He swallowed. "He'll win, Tessande. He'll overcome us all."

They both viewed each other in the darkness, everything they'd needed to say hanging between them.

At least that's what he thought until she said, "Don't suffer this way, Frederick. I know exactly what you're feeling now because it happened to me the same way it happened to you. With no dignity, no care, and by force."

His lips parted.

"Don't let him twist you into thinking that you did it to yourself-that it was your choice. It wasn't. Not even if you volunteered yourself for the slaughter. Understand?"

It became impossible for him to speak, but in that moment he wanted to thank her. He just couldn't form the words.

She left him in the dark, but her presence hovered at the door. "Is she worth it? All your sacrifice, I mean."

Frederick exhaled softly. "Maybe she is. Maybe she isn't. You and I can debate that all night long, and neither of us would ever agree. But the simple truth remains that I did this to her, and she doesn't deserve it." He closed his eyes. "I don't know what your motives are, but I don't care. If you help me, I'll be eternally in your debt. I will gladly be in your debt."

A stunned silence. "You shouldn't promise eternal debt to a sorceress, you know. If I accepted your foolish debt, she would never deserve you."

He almost laughed. "I'm the one who betrayed her, remember?"

"You and me both, Prince of Lies. You aren't special. She's weathered worse and though I'm loath to say it-she still has a long miserable life left to weather much more. You don't know her like I do, so worry for yourself."

She finally left, and Frederick could not help but realize that Tessande had visited him to pay him a kindness. A comfort. To stop him from shattering entirely tonight.

The question was why.