Chapter 69: The concubine's game

Chapter 69: The concubine's game
The heavy leather flaps of the tent fell shut, cutting off the roaring laughter and the thumping drums of the feast outside.

Before Jarek could even turn around, Rhea spun on him. All the feigned exhaustion and polite smiles vanished, replaced by a fierce, trembling fury.

"How could you?" she hissed, her voice shaking.

Jarek frowned, stepping toward her with his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Rhea, you need to calm down. It is not good for the—"

"Do not use our child to justify your poison!" Rhea snapped, slapping his hands away. "The Queen—that woman you so casually insulted in front of the entire high table—is the only reason we have a child to celebrate tonight! She bled herself dry on the floor of a dragon's cave to give us this miracle, and you repay her by shoving your viper of a sister down her throat!"

Jarek’s jaw tightened. The Warlord's pragmatism, usually reserved for the battlefield, hardened his eyes. "I owe that Halendarian girl nothing."

"But I owe her!" Rhea shouted, pressing a hand to her chest. "I am her companion! I swore an oath to stand by her, to guide her! I owe her my loyalty!"

"No, you don't," Jarek dismissed with a wave of his hand, turning away to unbuckle his heavy sword belt. "Companionship is a convenience, Rhea. It is not a blood oath."

Rhea stared at his broad back, utterly appalled. "Why? Because we are women? If I asked you to sneak behind Ikarion-Lir's back, to undermine his command and humiliate him in his own camp—"

"That is entirely different!" Jarek roared, spinning back around, the sword belt clattering to the floor. "Ikarion is the King! He is my brother-in-arms! Placing Maya in the Queen's household is no big deal. It’s just how things work."

Rhea felt a cold, terrifying dread pool in her stomach. She looked at the massive, battle-scarred man she loved, suddenly seeing a stranger.

"If allegiance to women means nothing," Rhea asked, her voice dropping to a dangerously quiet register, "then how can I know you won't turn against me sooner or later?"

Jarek froze. The anger instantly drained from his face, replaced by genuine, wounded shock. He closed the distance between them in two long strides, grabbing her shoulders. "Because my allegiance to you is my love! I love you, Rhea! Ikarion does not love that girl, he married her for… Other reasons. Why are you acting like this is the same thing?"

Rhea let out a bitter, choked sound. "Whether he loves her or not, Jarek, all I know is that he marched into the valleys, took that girl from her home against her will, and every single night he goes to her bed and fucks her until she can barely walk. She gave up her entire life for him. Maybe she is not entitled to his love... But by the gods, she at least deserves the respect of not being deceived by her own shield-sister! She trusts me! And you are forcing me to let you play some sick game behind her back!"

She yanked herself out of his grip, pacing the length of the rugs. "If you want your sister to be Queen so badly, why don't you act like a man? Talk to Ikarion-Lir directly. Tell him to marry your sister at once and stop playing games."

Jarek looked away, his jaw locking so tight the muscles ticked beneath his beard. "I already offered her hand to him."

Rhea stopped pacing. "And?"

"He declined."

For a moment, Rhea just stared at him. Then, a sharp, hysterical laugh tore from her throat. She covered her mouth, her laughter bordering on a sob of pure disbelief.

"Gods," she breathed. "So that is your grand strategy? He said no, so your idea is to send Maya into his household to parade around and seduce him until he changes his mind?"

She dropped her hand, glaring at her husband with absolute, unfiltered disgust. "You know what, Jarek? You accuse Misarya-Lir of not being good enough to be an Askari Queen, but she is out there every day, working in the dirt, taking care of the people, and fulfilling her duty to us and to the King. Meanwhile, you—one of the greatest generals of the Sun-Lands—are the one scheming in the shadows like a fucking concubine."

The air in the tent vanished.

Jarek’s golden-brown eyes darkened to black. His massive chest heaved. He took a slow, heavy step toward her, his shadow swallowing her completely.

"You should take that back," he growled, his voice a lethal, vibrating threat.

Rhea lifted her chin, her dark eyes blazing. "I won't."

Jarek towered over her menacingly, every inch the lethal killer that had conquered the eastern roads. The sheer size of him was enough to make full-grown warriors cower.

Rhea didn't even flinch.

"My first husband stabbed me," Rhea said, her voice eerily calm, refusing to break eye contact. "He drove a hunting knife into my womb and killed my baby. And I still managed to take the blade and slit his throat." She took a step closer, until her chest almost brushed his. "I love you, Jarek. But I am not afraid of you. Or any man."

Jarek stared down at her. The lethal tension in his massive frame slowly broke. His expression fractured, melting from Warlord fury into a profound, desperate vulnerability. He slowly reached up, his large, calloused hand gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear she hadn't realized she shed.

"I would never hurt you, Rhea," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Never."

Rhea closed her eyes, leaning into his touch for just a fraction of a second before pulling away.

"I am going to tell the Queen about your stupid plan," Rhea said flatly. "If, of course, she hasn't realized it by herself anyway."

Jarek let out a heavy sigh, dropping his hand. The Warlord's pragmatism returned, cold and calculated. "And what do you think she is going to do, Rhea?"

"I don't know," Rhea snapped. "Maybe she will send her wolf to chew your sister's face off. That's what I would do."

"And then what?" Jarek challenged, his tone devoid of anger, stating only brutal facts. "You are going to put her in an impossible position, Rhea. An attack on my sister is an attack on my family. It is an attack on me. Do you honestly believe the Alirak would be willing to take the side of his valley girl over me?"

Rhea opened her mouth to argue, but the words died in her throat.

She stopped and thought for a moment. The sickening realization crashed over her like cold water. Jarek, unfortunately, had a point. If Misarya struck out at Maya, Misarya would likely like the aggressor. She would be the ungrateful, jealous wife attacking the King's most valuable ally.

Jarek had completely cornered the Queen.

Seeing the realization dawn on her face, Jarek stepped forward, his expression softening again. He reached out to wrap his large arms around her, seeking the comfort of his wife.

"Don't touch me," Rhea said sharply, stepping backward.

Jarek’s arms dropped to his sides. "Rhea..."

"I am tired. I want to sleep," Rhea said, her voice entirely hollow as she turned her back on him and walked toward the bed. "And you are not welcome in my bed tonight."

Jarek stood in the center of the tent, looking utterly defeated. The man who commanded thousands of men suddenly looked incredibly small.

"Rhea, my love..." he pleaded softly.

"I've had enough of you today," she said, pulling the heavy furs back and climbing into the bed, facing the canvas wall.

Jarek stood in the silence for a long time, the muffled sounds of the celebration mocking the ruin he had just brought into his own home. He looked at the curve of his wife's back, a heavy sorrow settling over his shoulders.

"Well," Jarek whispered into the dark. "Goodnight then. To both of you."