The Kingbreakers: A sneak peek

The ballroom moved in elegant repose, everything stately, everything formal, the dances like the fastidious clockwork of some masterful mechanism. It was a testament to Sue’s beauty that she managed to make the machine skip a beat.

She arrived in the latest fashion, a white dress near to skin-tight, a gem the size of a man’s fist fronting the low-slung belt, a smaller collection of jewels upon the brocade, her cape with its fur epaulets dutifully removed by a courtier as she was announced.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Suzette du Cormier, Princess of Tsonia.”

It was unnecessary—this being Tsonia, and Sue not being the type of royalty who locked herself away from her citizenry, unknowable and remote. But the formalities had to be observed.

With a wry grin, Sue waited patiently as dance partners lined up for her hand—scavengers, seeing that she was unattended. With a little of her wind magic, she brought the words of the female wall of the chamber over to her ear… all the duchesses and ladies and dames, united in gossip.

“Can’t believe she’s here without a man—“

“Married a commoner and then didn’t even bring him—“

“Everyone knows it’s not even a real marriage—“

“Lesbian—“

“Asexual—“

“Pregnant—“

Sue smiled bemusedly as the first courtier approached her. “Princess Suzette, truly, your grace lights the ball; it was as night before you arrived!”

“It isn’t anymore? A pity. I had thought my make-up a little spotty.”

Sue watched him gulp a moment, trying to figure out a repose to her humility. When she offered her hand, he gratefully kissed it and was added to her dance card. The next one had still more extravagant compliments, and treated a dance with her as if it would lift some ancient curse from her family. Sue tuned him out. A little more of her magic and she was listening in to the princely men arrayed upon the wall opposite the women, awaiting the next dance, making whispered conversation among their fellow elite.

“God, would you look at her?”

“Fuck, is she stacked!”

“What a rack—“

“Whatta everything!”

“That husband of hers s’an idiot if he’s not—“

“Every night—“

“I’d—“

“So hard—“

“From behind—“

Well, there was something to be said for honesty. Not much, but something. Dismissing her present suitor with a polite bow, Sue arched her back when she rose, deliberately pushing her chest out, knowing how the tight, form-fitting dress flattered her curves. If she was going to be leered at, might as well give them something to leer at.

“Mein Gott—!”

“Can’t be real, I swear, has to be magic—“

“Just touch ‘em, just once—“

“I think her nipples are hard, holy Christ…”

Sue’s smile grew wider at their flattery. Since her girlhood, the obvious appeal of her finely-drawn features and trim yet curvy figure had almost brought more attention than her heritage. She’d taken tentative steps into modeling while being taught magic, planning to donate the proceeds to the needy. That was before she met Reed, though. Before they’d learned real magic. Before the Kingbreakers.

Since mastering the long-lost art of wind magic, she’d ironically become more famous than any model, far more famous than a distant relation of the current throne merited. And while she didn’t pander to newsmen or well-wishers as obnoxiously as her brother Johnny, her likeness had still been captured in many medium, countless people had come to special events largely for a glimpse of her, and she’d received more proposals than she could count—lewd and otherwise. Brochures and pamphlets continually featured portraits of her as they ranked her among the most beautiful people in the world, and it was well-known that she could command a hefty fee if she were to allow some wealthy patron to commission her as model for a drawing or sculpture—a king’s ransom if her clothes were not included.

She could not say she did not enjoy the attention.

Sue knew she shouldn’t let it go to her head, but it was always flattering.

Was it wrong for a woman to want to be seen, and be appreciated?

She was, after all, proud of her looks, particularly of her body, and

certainly she worked hard for it. Despite her magical prowess, she exercised regularly and intensively to keep her body as strong as her spells, up to the task of whatever her adventures with the Kingbreakers demanded of her. That surely made her a more useful member of society than a good deal of the royal personages assembled tonight.

How many of her fellow royals could claim to have helped save the world?

“I will have her. She will be mine.”

That strong, strident voice, dangerously above the whispers she was used to, especially caught Sue’s attention. She knew who it was. Count Tyros. She glanced up and over her shoulder, giving him a quick, playful smile, and even without her magic, heard the murmurs of the women increase exponentially.

Count Tyros was from neighboring Algon, a wealthy and prosperous nation, owing much of that success to his shrewd plotting as advisor to the king. But there was being the power behind the throne and there was being seated yourself. Sue knew he was desperate for the latter, and having her hand in marriage when her dear uncle relinquished the throne and made her queen would not only make him regent of her land, but exponentially increased his standing in his own. It might even mold both into a single empire, with Tyros himself as progenitor.

He came down the stairs from the upper balconies, looking resplendent in his militaristic uniform. It was simplistic; a gray wool tunic, a star-shaped medal pinned at the high collar, two rows of brass buttons lining the belly, trousers similarly unadorned, boots black and well-polished. It was the man himself who made the clothes. He had a dark, elegant face, with lush black hair gathered up into a tight knot at the back of his scalp, and a sharply pointed goatee stabbing down from his chin. A scar set off the orbit of his left eyebrow, but every other detail of his appearance was carefully regimented, not in the fastidious manner of the pampered rich, but with military discipline, as if he was as domineering in regards to his personal appearance as he was in all matters.

“I believe the lady’s first dance is with me,” he said, his voice a rich growl with the accent of the furthest reaches of his home country, slickening and honeying his words.

It was a bald-faced lie, and Sue would be well within her rights to embarrass him by refusing. But the very audacity of his deception made it irresistible to Sue. She adroitly bowed to him, then held up her hands for him to take. He did, vigorously, his body suddenly pressed against hers. As if they contact had lit a fuse, the orchestra exploded into music, and Sue was suddenly being wheeled about the dance floor, barely able to keep up with Tyros’s flowing movements. He led with a savage glee.

“My lady,” he greeted, his voice chilling as it dipped in temperature. “I believed I had a dress sent for your perusal. It displeases me not to see you in it.”

“And here I thought nothing about the sight of me could displease.”

“Your clothes can. It either enhances or obscures, and this one does nothing but obscure.”

“While yours did nothing to obscure. I believe my court might be a little too conservative for such a garment.”

“Do not wear it for them. Wear it for me.”

Sue had to smile at his unabashed desire for her. There was nothing whispered, nothing secret, about his drive to possess her.

It did have to be kept in check, though. “My husband wouldn’t be amused by that.”

“Your husband would not notice. As he does not notice us dancing now.”

Sue’s smile became condescending. “He notices. But he doesn’t care. You, I fear, would be rather more possessive.”

“And this would not be warranted, knowing the value of my possession?”

“You haven’t ‘possessed’ me yet.”

“Anything can be arranged. Your wonderful scholar of a husband—if he can’t attend such an important event as this, perhaps he also cannot attend your bed.”

“Watch yourself, Tyros.”

“Algon has great treasures. Magic that would fuel his research for years to come. Artifacts of power that would greatly improve the lives of your people. If you were merely to trade a night spent alone for a night spent with me.”

“I see you’re unaware of how much fun a night spent alone can be. Perhaps because you haven’t yet seen me in that dress you selected.”

“Perhaps.”

The dance ended in a flourish of music, and Sue stepped away from the motionless Tyros to applaud the band. After a moment, he joined in the applause, just like the rest of the dancers were doing.

“Another dance?” he asked, his accent undulating in sinuous insinuation.

Sue was unsure whether to answer yes or no when a courtier rushed to her side. “Princess, it’s your brother—“

“Another duel?” Sue said wearily.

The courtier nodded helplessly. “Another duel.”