Bride to the Cursed: a Snow White retelling

Chapter 16: Games of Love and War

Dane exited the council room, his footsteps unsteady as he fought to stave off the fatigue and aches that wracked the muscles of his body.

He looked out over a window on the other side of the hallway. The sky was dark yet, the morning too early still for the sun to rise, and he'd already spent the past five hours after midnight holed up with his council. They'd surprised him by being unexpectedly attentive as they discussed the recent events with grim seriousness painted across their features.

Every single one of them in that room tonight understood that even if they could avoid a war with Ilien and Uviel, there was an unknown enemy out there. One who'd managed to sneak past their forces at Port Basville to cause trouble for them and their friends. At the very least, there was a tough battle to prepare for.

They had men to recruit and train, weapons and armour to craft, food supplies to source, gold to collect, and most of all, a hidden enemy to weed out of the shadows with no ideas yet of how they would do so. Hopefully, the men and pigeons Sir Alan had dispatched would bring some of the much-needed answers soon enough.

Leaning against the wall for a brief respite, Dane rubbed a hand across his forehead. There was a spark of hope in the deals he'd entered into with the Emir and Emira of Steersberg: a steady stream of gold was trickling into the royal treasury from the wealthiest house in the North, and he had all the Northern houses of Asis at his beck and call. Compared to the fat, gluttonous nobles of the South who could party for days on end, the Northern Lands bred the barbarians. Little manners they had, but strong men were what they needed in a war, not manners. It was time to rally them all.

Before that, however, there was a mad viscount to fish more details out of. If he could ever stop talking about fishes, that was.

Gods, his head hurt.

Cassie slept fitfully. In her overly vivid dreams, the beasts found her no matter where she hid, their steel-tipped claws eager to sink into her flesh and tear through muscle and bone. She ran, but they were faster. All around her, monsters took flight, spreading their bat-like wings and casting a colossal mass of shadows, right before they screeched and dove for her.

As one sharpened claw curled around the cloak fluttering behind her, one of those hideous beasts roared—

Cassie jolted awake, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest. She blinked a few times, relieved to find she was still in her corner of Dane's study where she'd fallen asleep, with all her body parts intact. Her relief lasted all of two seconds until the beast made its presence known.

She whipped her head towards the deafening sound, her wide eyes finding the rotund figure of the roaring culprit leaned back in the king's chair. The viscount inhaled, then let loose another earth shattering snore that seemed to rattle the room.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered with a hand to her chest, soothing the still racing heart pounding against her ribcage.

The three of them had talked late into the night, plotting Cassie's way to Dane's heart. Why had she ever thought seduction might be inappropriate during a war? Love and war, they went hand in hand; the game of love itself was no different to fighting a war.

Raising her arms, she stretched, her eyes falling on the other plump sleeping figure—the viscountess, nestled in some makeshift nest she'd built from all the books she'd thrown from the shelves. Literally all the books.

Looking between the two of them, Cassie smiled. Crazy, unpredictable and schemy as they could be, they were the first in this world she could regard as friends, confidants, accomplices, whatever they were, because they all shared a common goal. It was comforting not having to fight this war alone.