Richelle Mead - Iron Crowned

“Get him out,” said Dorian coldly. “Now. If he resists again or changes form, kill him.”

The guards hurried to obey while Kiyo continued yelling his outrage at me, Dorian, and the world. I hoped they moved fast because Dorian had had a point. If Kiyo transformed into a fox, he’d slip out of his stone prison. Of course, he’d have to transform into a small fox, which would do little harm, but still. It would be a lot better for all of us once Kiyo was outside the walls.

The guards must have succeeded because no more commotion followed. Jasmine turned to Dorian.

“You should have killed him anyway,” she said flatly. Her standard response.

The ghost of a smile flickered across Dorian’s lips, though his eyes were still hard. “You’re nearly as delightful as your sister,” he observed. “No matter how displeased I am at the two of you right now, I admit, things will certainly be entertaining with you around. And they will become very entertaining soon.” That was directed at me. “If you think you brought a war down before, you haven’t seen anything yet, my dear. You’ve caused me quite a bit of trouble.”

I barely heard him. The adrenaline was fast fading from my body, and all the pain from fighting with Kiyo and then doing the forced transition began returning. I felt sick, and my surroundings were spinning once again.

“Sorry,” I managed to say to Dorian, just before collapsing.

“So, let me make sure I’m following this correctly.”

I sighed and shifted on the bed, knowing Dorian was repeating this conversation mostly because he liked seeing my discomfort.

“Your ‘technology’ can tell you you’re having a boy and a girl, when they’re due, and allow you to hear their heartbeats,” he continued. “But some medicine inexplicably totally counteracted the other one you take to prevent pregnancy.”

“Took,” I muttered. “Seeing as it’s kind of pointless now.”

Dorian leaned back in a plush armchair, face expressing overly dramatic pondering. After fainting, I’d been given a guest room befitting my status, a good sign since “hospitality” simply meant protection and in no way related to one’s accommodations. It wasn’t quite as nice as Dorian’s room, of course, but the mattress was thick and fluffy, and the green velvet canopy coordinated with the heavy brocaded bedding. As sick as I’d felt, I honestly would have been content to curl up on the floor somewhere. I’d been awake for about an hour now, alone in the vast room save for Dorian.

“What a fascinatingly bizarre turn of events,” he mused, stroking his chin. “If you thought the Iron Crown scared people, just wait until this news spreads. Which, of course, it already has.”

I draped a hand over my forehead. “Isn’t it bad enough that I’m carrying a world-conquering prophecy child? Why all the political fallout?”

“Because you’re carrying a world-conquering prophecy child,” he responded. “It’s the type of thing people tend to have strong feelings about.”

“I thought almost everyone wanted to conquer the human world.”

“Most,” he agreed. “But not all. Especially those who—after observing your record thus far—might fear you’ll conquer this world first.”

I rolled over to my side, giving me a better view of him. Since the earlier spectacle, Dorian had masked whatever personal feelings he had about my pregnancy, switching into cunning ruler mode. “But not you,” I said. “You’ve always been in favor of this—fulfilling the prophecy.”

“I’ve never made a secret of that,” he agreed. “From the moment we met.”

That was true, at least. He’d sat on that desire while we were involved, but I’d always known it lurked. “You’ve just kept other secrets instead,” I blurted out.

He didn’t answer me right away, but those green-gold eyes weighed me thoughtfully. “Yes. Yes, I have. Secrets I now regret.”

That silenced me for several moments. I hadn’t expected any kind of apology. Something in me softened toward him. “Really?”

“If I hadn’t deceived you about the Iron Crown,” he explained, “we would still be together.”

I could only stare. The piece of me that had never stopped loving him tentatively reared its head. It was hard to believe he was here confessing his feelings, admitting that what we’d had had been more important than his scheming. It gave me a new insight into him, one that astonished … yet pleased me.

“And if we’d stayed together,” he continued, “I would have been the lucky beneficiary of this medicinal slip.”

So much for new insight.

I groaned and turned away. “Of course. Of course that’s the real source of your regret. You don’t get to lead the revolution.”

I heard him get up and sit on the bed beside me. A few seconds later, he actually had the audacity to lie down. I wiggled over to make room.

“It’s more than revolution,” he said. “I also told you the first time we met that I’d have a child with you, regardless of any prophecy.”

“I’m not convinced that the ‘with me’ part was so relevant.”

Dorian touched my cheek and turned my face toward his. “Do you really believe that? Do you really believe my feelings for you were so small that your being the mother of my child wouldn’t have meant the world to me?”

I started to snarkily correct him with worlds, but it seemed petty. “I don’t know what I believe,” I said honestly. “I don’t even know if I have the energy or motivation to analyze our relationship when I have this going on.” I rested my hand on my stomach. Dorian’s eyes followed that motion, utterly captivated.

“Despite your foolish fathering choices, this …” He reached toward my stomach as well, then pulled back. “This is a miracle. This is a prophecy fulfilled. This is life. And really, Kiyo is no longer relevant. He’s given up any claims to these children. They are yours and yours alone now.”

My fingers tightened on my stomach, not painfully, but more in a possessive type of way. My gaze grew unfocused. “I still can’t believe that. I can’t believe that he’d dismiss his own children so easily. That he’d dismiss me so easily …”

“I doubt it was easy. You aren’t that easy to get over.” A small note of bitterness there. “But his opposition to the prophecy was too great. Just as my support is great enough to take you in—despite your betrayal—and embark in the madness to come.”

Betrayal? I started to tell him he was the last one who should accuse anyone of that—but held back. “Will people think you’re crazy to do it?”

“Hardly,” he snorted. “Most will think they’re my children anyway, ironically enough.” No one except Jasmine had heard my brief paternity exchange with Dorian in the hall.

I frowned. “I think sometimes Kiyo does too.”

“They can be.”

My first reaction was that this was some sort of joke of his, but all humor had disappeared from his face. “I don’t think you fully understand genetics.”

“I understand that parenting is more than just blood,” he said, still deadly earnest. “And as I said: he’s relinquished any claims. You are in control, and if even he and others question the children’s parentage, then so much the better. Simply declare me the father. Have it recorded, and by our laws, the children will be mine for all intents and purposes.”

Something about that set off my alarms. “What do you mean ‘intents and purposes’?”

He shrugged—a bit too casually. “Titles. Prestige. Protection. Inheritance—if either is strong enough to hold my kingdom. Which, according to the prophecy, your son should be.”