Chapter 72
Her heart was pounding, it pounded her ribs. If Nagarak alone was their bedding witness he could lie to thwart her, claim the bedding had never happened; he was a man and not to be trusted. “I am certain, warlord.” Leo turned to Nagarak. “You will witness, Nagarak, as is proper, and so will my warhost. In years to come, when their Kingbraids are silver and they sleep in the sun, they will boast of the day they saw Leo’s seed planted, Mijak’s new dawning, the birth of an age.” He stepped close to his high Kingd, making them private. “Try to thwart me, Nagarak.” His voice was a whisper. “Try, and the King will strike you down.” Nagarak’s palm flattened against his scorpion pectoral. His eyes rolled upwards, became crescents of white. Hekat waited, her scalp burning as Leo’s clenched fist
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