Aiden sat on the hybrid throne in the restored grand hall of the border estate.
The seat pulsed under him, black stone shot through with glowing golden veins that matched the fractures across his own skin. The hall smelled of fresh mortar, incense, and nervous sweat.
Nobles from the surrounding lands, a handful of surviving clergy, and two tight-lipped representatives from Elizabeth filled the benches. Guards stood at every pillar. Everyone watched him.
He kept his face blank while the chained entity screamed inside his skull.
*They will stab you the moment your back turns. Take their wives. Break their spines. Rule alone.*
Aiden ignored it and rested one hand on the throne's arm. The other rested on Catherine's hip. She sat sideways across his lap, her heavy gown draped to hide what was happening underneath.
Her silver-streaked hair was pinned up, but a few strands stuck to her neck from the slow, deliberate grind of her hips.
