“Yes.” A nobleman, thickset with graying hair spouting from both his beard and scalp, rose from the far left-hand pew. “I have been asked to speak on behalf of the nobles.” He cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, many of us want to know why you are allowing this criminal a chance to speak. He has committed heinous crimes, including murder, rape, arson, and treason. After twenty years of his reign of terror, we finally have him in our grasp. Why not kill him and be rid of him?”
The king paused for a moment before he replied, his voice relaxed and smooth. “There is no use in cutting off the head of a snake only for the body to squeeze you to death. Maddoc has gained support over the years. We need confirmation of those who’ve aligned with him and have enlisted in his fellowship of destruction. In addition, it is imperative we know how they are operating, how they get supplies in and out of the kingdom, how they coordinate and plan attacks, and most importantly, where they are based. This man can give us everything we need to eliminate his band of ‘Mad Men.’”
The sound of snickering rose throughout the hall at the use of the frequent nickname given to Maddoc’s men, but Ana was too nervous to be amused.
“Do we really need the information that desperately, Your Majesty?” the nobleman asked. “We will find them all eventually. Better that the man is dead.”
The king inclined his head. “We cannot underestimate the reaction of his men when news of his death circulates. It may inspire them to fight harder and longer to avenge him. And consider this, Maddoc came here of his own free will. His men must know he is here. I’m sure they cannot be so foolish that they’re not expecting his demise.”
“I doubt he is here to offer the information you seek, Your Majesty.”
“Too bad for him,” the king said gravely. “He has placed himself in our hands. There is no possible way for him to escape us now. We will get the information out of him, or he will suffer greatly before his execution.”
The nobleman nodded and sat back down, a low hum rippling through the crowd.
Ana swallowed at her father’s words, a hard ball of tension and nausea souring in her stomach. If his men knew he was here then they could be planning anything. It was all very well to mock and belittle them in front of the court—call them a band of mad men like they were incompetent fools—but Ana knew from her reading, and from talking to her father, that they were smart and dangerous and sophisticated enough to cause real damage.
“Bring him in,” the king called.
Silence gripped the hall again as the doors creaked open. Heavy footsteps echoed across the space as a man entered and walked between the crowds seated on both sides.
A dark trembling gloom bloomed in Ana’s stomach at the sight of him.
Huge and thick, he was a towering mass of muscle. A patchwork of mismatched grey, brown, and black clothing covered his bulky frame; heavy leather boots adorned his feet, and a ruby red cloak swayed from his shoulders while its hood covered his head and obscured his face. There could be no doubt he was an Alpha. He was larger than the guards who accompanied him, and he walked with a confidence not even the Alphas of the royal houses possessed. The arrogance saturating the way he held himself made Ana’s stomach plummet—this was not going to be an easy exchange.
He took no notice of the audience on either side of him, his attention remaining on the thrones. When he reached the engraving of the royal crest etched into the floor, a few feet from the platform, he abruptly halted, then removed his hood.
Silence swallowed every last shuffle in the hall. Ana tried to drag her eyes away, to prevent herself from seeing the face of this monster who had been a malignant force against her kingdom for so long, but she couldn’t. He held himself with the poise of a wild animal, waiting to strike its prey when the opportunity arose—deceptively relaxed, watchful, and predatory. He was unlike any other man she’d seen, and no one took their eyes off a creature so dangerous. Black, shaggy hair surrounded his head, and a short beard covered the lower half of his face. He had a strong nose and a gaze so piercing, it made Ana shudder.
“Maddoc.” The king’s authoritative voice cut through the tension. “You asked for an audience with me and you have it. Just know you will be charged here today, so I hope what you have come to say is worth it.”
The Alpha remained still, almost statuesque. The solemn weight of his dark eyes captured the menace emanating from his whole being, and his gaze didn’t waver from the king.
It were as if the entire court held a collective breath, and in that moment Ana sensed the aggression that stifled the room. It was so potent, it would only take one spark, one wrong word, to ignite the proceedings into chaos.
“You think I am that foolish?” the Alpha said finally. Deep and gritty, his rough voice cut straight into Ana, agitating the tremble that was already unnerving her. Surprisingly, his accent was untainted. Usually, the commoners, depending on region, held a slur or tonal dialect that made them difficult to understand, but it helped differentiate their location in Allandis. This Alpha’s speech suggested he was educated—that hadn’t been in anything she’d read.
“I don’t pretend to understand the mind of a criminal,” her father replied, his voice deepening as he leaned forward. “That does not interest me. All I know is your crimes cease today. I hope you have come with the intention of giving up your men.”
“I’ve come with the intention to claim what I am owed,” the outlaw growled. “And you will compensate me.”
A hushed murmur rolled though the court, but King Orick did not move. “You are the one who has attempted to run this kingdom into the ground with your violent, senseless rebellion,” he said, his voice hard. “You have failed. So instead of crawling into the Oakenshire to die, you come here to play the victim? That is your plan?” The king shook his head, disgusted. “You are more foolish that you are given credit for. Tell me the names of your men, or you will be sentenced immediately.”
The Alpha didn’t move. “My men are not at issue. The Royal Promise you owe me is.”
The king stiffened in his chair, and Ana stiffened in hers. The Royal Promise was reserved for commoners who aided the kingdom in such an exceptional way that the royal family had a duty to reward them. It was detailed heavily in Allandis law. Milly had explained in one of Ana’s lessons that since the inception of the Royal Promise over eighty years ago, unrest and dissatisfaction against the crown had dropped drastically. Commoners held the promise in high regard, seeing it as something they could be awarded if they proved their value to the kingdom. However, Ana was disappointed to learn that only one person in history had earned it.
“Why the fuck would you think you of all people would have claim to a promise?” The king’s voice boomed across the hall.
Maddoc’s head tilted slightly, his voice measured and deliberate. “I saved your life a month ago.”
An icy horror breathed along Ana’s upper arms. No.
“I killed the men who were about to murder you on your last hunt… and they would have succeeded. Your guards were fucking ineffective and useless.” His eyes bore into the king. “Much like they are now.”
“You expect me to believe that?” the king snarled. “From a liar and a cheat?”