Taken by Bloodsinger – Bonus Scene

Enjoy a bonus scene of the moment Valen and Elise Ferus find out Erik Bloodsinger attacked the Crimson Fort and stole Livia to the Ever Kingdom. The Rogue Princess is the header title for Elise Ferus from The Broken Kingdoms

***

The Rogue Princess

The ride to Kunglig for the annual royal council was long, but never dull. Each turn—no matter how many passed—the caravan consisted of bored kings trying to arrive before the others.

Sol and Tor were the instigators of our coach.

Sol Ferus—father of a grown man, eldest of the Ferus children—but when my brother-in-law wanted to rile his younger brother into a competition, the man knew just what to say.

“Valen, you always were a bleeding disappointment.” Sol slumped back on his side of the coach bench, propped one foot on the edge, and accepted Tor’s hand when his consort held out his palm. “That’s three damn turns in a row where you’ve let House Sekundär win. Ari never lets us live it down.”

Valen narrowed his gaze at his brother, but here was as glint of his own disappointment in his midnight eyes as the coach slowed to jeers and shouts from the coaches of the southern realms.

Tor chuckled, glancing out the window. “Ah, but Ari might be sulking right along with us.  Seems Kase and Malin pulled ahead at the last moment.”

Sol crowded behind Tor, peering through the window. He barked a laugh and gripped his lover’s shoulder, shouting, “Well done, Nightrender! Show that sod where he belongs.”

Ten breaths, five, then steely amber eyes filled our window. Ari reached a fist inside, trying to strike Sol in the shoulder. “My own folk betray me.”

“You betray us every turn,” Tor grumbled.

“Out of the principle of the race, Torsten.” Ari huffed. “I may be a glorious king of the glamour fae, but lest we forget I was once a glorious king of the Night Folk. You once . . . bowed . . . to me.”

His words broke more than once when he dodged, trying not to grin, as Sol returned fire, trying to snatch Ari’s raven circlet.

“We never bowed to you.” Valen was the one who finally caught hold of the king’s crown. He used one of the intricate wings to point at Ari’s chest. “Your memory must be muddled in your old age—”

“Ah-ah. Watch your tongue.” Ari swiped his circlet back. “I will remind you that the gods cursed our lands with your aggravating face first, My King.”

No matter how long he ruled his own realms, no matter how many titles Ari earned, Valen would always remain his king.

Valen chuckled. “Does not change the fact that we never bowed to you.”

“You did. It was stunning watching you tremble beneath my glory.”

“More like we fled from your voice,” Tor said, stepping out of the coach.

I rolled my eyes. “We are the rulers of fae, parents of grown children, and you lot act younger than Rorik sometimes.”

Valen flashed his white grin my way. “Why do you think our boy is the way he is, Kvinna?”

I threaded my fingers with my husband’s and stepped into broken sunlight of the front gates of Kunglig. Somewhere in the pit of my belly, unease still toiled. The whole of the journey, I’d shoved it away, convinced it arose merely from the turn this represented.

“Elise.” Valen’s dark, satin voice brushed against my ear. “Are you finally going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

I pinched his side. “You are too perceptive.”

He tugged me against his side. The man still owned every sliver of my soul. His dark eyes were deep as a raven’s wing, his hair still dark as the deepest sea, braided off his face. Rorik took so much after his father, I wasn’t certain if there was any hint of my blood within our son.

Valen Ferus was deadly, bold, bloodthirsty, and my home. Safe, gentle, and tender to me and our children.

I could admit the truth of my discontent without concern for a taunting word in return.

“I think Liv and me both felt the same. Something about this tenth turn since the end of the war has me unsettled. It’s a feeling,” I admitted. “Almost . . . ominous. It feels like it did when the sea fae attacked before. This . . . prickle on the back of the neck that the Norns are not through with us.”

Valen’s forehead furrowed, doubtless he was taking the time to consider each word. It was one of my favorite pieces of my husband. Valen did not disregard my fears, he mulled them over, considered them, he listened to them before trying to find a way to ease them.

His fingertips brushed along the edge of my jaw. “There isn’t a way for the attacks to come again, Elise. The Chasm is warded in blood.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Why do you speak like you are convincing yourself?”

Valen shifted on his feet. His jaw worked.

My eyes went wide. “By the gods, you’re unsettled too.”

“It’s the anniversary.” He slipped his fingers through mine. “That’s all. I was unsettled after five turns if you recall.”

Not like this. I held my tongue and wrapped my arms around his waist. “You still think of him, don’t you?”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “He wanted to stay. I felt it. Saw him consider the offer to remain with us. You know she was drawn to him as much as I do. Young as they were, I believed he might’ve been drawn the same. When we shielded the Chasm against the Ever, it didn’t feel final. I hate it. I hate knowing powers and forces are locked away beneath the tides. I hate not knowing what we placed on a boy’s shoulders by shunning him.”

“There wasn’t anything left we could do, Valen. Not when the sea folk promised battles would continue.”

“I know.” He rubbed one palm along my spine and stepped back. “But those thoughts are the spark of my unease. I feel the same each festival. That’s all it is.”

I blew out a breath. He was likely right. Guilt for tossing a boy king back into an unknown world gnawed at my heart each turn.

After ten, guilt was merely harsher.

First, Valen killed the young Ever King’s father. Wretched as Thorvald was, he was still the boy’s blood. Then, to be defeated and banished, there wasn’t a way to know what had become of Erik Bloodsinger.

“Are you two coming?” Malin Eriksson waved near the front entrance. Her sunset hair was tied in a long braid and she stood next to Queen Saga while Kase and Ari argued about the fairness of the arrival of House Eriksson’s coach.

Valen squeezed my palm, flashed his calming grin once, then led us into the great hall of the palace.

***

It didn’t take long for nerves to fade. With the royals of the fae realms, it wasn’t difficult to do.

Ari always saw to it that Silas, our somber fate king engaged in no less than five conversations. Kase and Saga still battled over who got to hold Princess Vera—Silas’s and Calista’s new babe—and both were stubborn enough to never relent.

Sol and Tor always boasted about Aleksi’s achievements in the Rave with Calista. Since the earliest moments of our interwoven lives, Sol and Calista had a bond like a brother and sister. She beamed with a bit of pride every time the two men spoke of my nephew’s new rank.

“I do hope the fort will be in one piece when we return.” Malin sipped from a drinking horn. “Every turn, I think the twins get more devious. I thought they’d grow out of it by now.”

Valen laughed and sat back in his chair. “Mal, I’ve no idea why you’d even think that. We have to have a special allotment in the treasuries to account for Niklas and Junie skimming profits off the top of every trade, Kase tries to thieve from Ari during each visit, and let’s not even go into how you still peek into the memories of—”

“No.” Malin held up a finger. “No, I learned my lesson about memory peeking. I made the horrid, horrid mistake of looking into Sander’s two turns ago. I know, it’s a bit of a privacy invasion, but he offered and was being petulant when I questioned him about somewhere he’d gone. I didn’t need Junie to tell me he was lying—”

“Wait. Sander?” I arched a brow. “Sweet, scholarly Sander?”

Malin’s mouth pinched. “I know Jonas well enough to know his feckless . . . well, his love of . . .”

“Women, Mal.” Valen grinned and laughed when she swatted at him. “What? The boy isn’t bashful at admitting it.”

“Just wait, Valen Ferus.” Malin pointed a finger at my husband. “You just bleeding wait until our delightful, gentle Livie finds someone who catches her eye. See how you’ll feel knowing a man is tangled—”

“Ah.” Valen grimaced and shook his head, holding up a hand. “Stop there. I’ll slit his throat before he has a chance.”

I used my elbow to jab his ribs. Valen spoke a great deal about never letting reckless young men come close to his daughter, but in truth he was much like me—we wanted both our children to find their own hjärtas someday.

I shook away the thought of the young sea fae king my girl used to sneak out to see. I ignored the tug at the memory of how it seemed a bond was forming.

With one hand I waved, drawing Malin and Valen away from their back and forth. “Sander. What did you see?”

Malin winced. “Again, he warned me. I’ve no one to blame but myself. He stood there all smug as I peeked and discovered it is not only his damn brother who . . . enjoys a warm body. Gods.” Malin covered her face with her hands. “I want my sons to find love, but good hells, I tire of the process.”

My lips parted. “Wait. Wait. Sander? As in, the gentle little boy who always begged me to read him old Timoran tales while he sat on my lap?”

Malin’s pale cheeks flushed with a wash of pink. “That’s the one.”

The twins were not much younger than Livia, and I felt I was close enough to my girl to know she was not experienced with men. But Sander? Gods, with his quiet and shy disposition, I expected him to be even less so than my own daughter.

And Mal’s tale was from two turns back.

“When did they stop being our littles?” I sighed. “It feels not so long ago the boys were sleeping out on our palace lawns with Liv, Mira, and Alek, talking about their favorite sweets and hugging stuffed toys.”

“I don’t know, but it feels like everything is changing, doesn’t it?” Malin spoke with a tone of meaning.

Did she feel the strangeness the same as me and Valen? I squeezed the hand of my fellow queen and smiled.

After a few tolls, we had briefly covered trade across the kingdoms. Councils were not always eventful. A blessing of peaceful realms.

But as we stood to retire to our separate chambers, shouts rose from outside the great hall.

Silas tugged Calista into his side, a low sound rolling from his throat. Calista and Silas both had seidr, power over fate, and the magic presented in tales that came from song.

My pulse quickened. There was a path of fate unraveling. The fate king and queen rarely used their seidr—they both despised the cruelty of the Norns—but at times it could not be helped.

The doors clattered open. A group of haggard Rave warriors shoved into the palace. Stieg, sweat-soaked and coated in blood and dirt, led them. Frey stood at his shoulder, and Aleksi shoved through, rushing toward the table, a look of panic in his golden eyes.

Valen shot to his feet, unknowingly taking a step in front of me, almost an instinct. “What the hells?”

“He . . . he took her.” Aleksi gasped, his chin dropping.

Sol and Tor went to their son’s side. Sol inspected a wound on Alek’s neck while Tor forced him to sit, barking for someone to bandage the prince and the wounded Rave.

Valen glanced at our nephew with a touch of worry, but looked back to Stieg. “What happened?”

Stieg was wounded much like Aleksi. Exhaustion lined his features, but there was a horrid, unnerving fear in his eyes.

I could not breathe.

“The . . . the sea fae returned. The Chasm . . . it’s open, Valen.”

A few gasps echoed around the hall. By now, every king and every queen were on their feet, hands on blades we kept tethered to our belts.

Valen’s shoulders stiffened. There was no denying which royal house would be targeted should the Ever return. Revenge against House Ferus was the last vow of the boy king.

“Stieg.” His voice was low, almost murderous. “Where are my children?”

Our warrior winced.

Gods. No.

“Heirs to the kingdoms are safe and chose to remain at the fort.” Stieg glanced to where Halvar and Kari stood. “Young ones are safe. We brought them with us here.”

Our First Knight had reluctantly agreed to allow every one of his five children to remain at the fort. Aesir, his son, was in the Rave. A man now. The four Atra daughters were divided—two grown like Livia, two still young.

Stieg gave Halvar a nod, a silent assurance his children were here.

But the assurance was not there when he looked to me, to Valen. “Rorik is here. Sleeping. Exhausted. A little shaken.”

Thank the gods, but . . .

“And Livia?” Valen’s voice was nothing more than a growl.

“My king,” Stieg whispered. Once the man was a vagabond with Valen before we took the throne. He was our friend before our warrior, and rarely used titles. “The Ever King was among the sea fae and . . . I tried to reason with him. You recall he trusted me once, and he paused at the sight of me, but already had her in his grasp—”

“What the hells are you talking about?” Valen butted his chest to Stieg’s.

I gripped his arm, digging my fingernails into his tunic.

Stieg wiped a bit of blood still dripping from his lip. “Bloodsinger . . . he found her and used his blood. I could not approach or it would risk her life with the poison.”

I felt nothing. Cold more frigid than the darkest frosts filled my veins. Her life. Where was my Livia?

“Stieg.” Ari’s voice was low, fierce. “Speak. Plainly.”

“Livia was taken by the Ever King.”

It was Tor who caught me around the waist when my knees gave out. He held me upright against his chest.

Valen was unmoving, at least to others. To me, I saw the rage beneath his skin. The familiar wickedness of the cursed man I once knew. The man with bloodlust too fierce to tame. It was a slow build, but there was a tremble to his unmoving form.

“Valen,” Stieg whispered. “I do not know how to go through the Chasm, but we will not stop until we find a way.”

“I want his head.” Valen’s voice was low. Dark. Raw.

Steadier, I reached for him. He flinched, but didn’t pull away. Tears blurred my eyes.

My husband dealt with his own bloodlust, and perhaps we had been vowed long enough we took emotions from each other for there was more than fear, more than agony in my blood. Heat and rage and a desire for slaughter raged like the winds on the sea.

I wanted blades drawn.

I wanted bones shattered.

I wanted heads on pikes.

I wanted my damn daughter laughing across the hall with her fingertips still covered in paint from her designs on the glass.

“Cursed King.” Calista’s soft voice filled the hall. “Fate is at play. You felt it then, don’t deny it. You felt it when they were but littles. The tale is unfolding now.”

“Do not speak to me of fate!” Valen whirled around, a bit of the beastly viciousness alight in his eyes. A shudder rolled under our feet as the earth bent to his rage.

The other royals watched with a touch of horrified reverence as his shoulders heaved in untamed fury.

“Get me Erik Bloodsinger’s head. The sea fae have brought war again. And like before, we will shred their bodies until our seas flow with their blood.” he roared. “Get me to the fort and I will get my daughter back!”

He unlaced one of his axes. Along with Sol, Ari, and Kase (whose eyes had gone to a silky black), they stormed for the door.

No hesitation. No questions. They gathered, ready to go after my girl. My sweet, Livia.

My precious daughter.

She was gone.

Gone.

Tor took hold of me again when I stumbled. “Elise, we will get her back. We will. I swear to you.”

“I want the Ever Kingdom to burn, Tor.” Each word gritted through my teeth. “I want sea fae to fall into the myths and lore of these lands. Every last one.”

Torsten Bror was stern and steady. His dark, Night Folk eyes burned like hot coals. His mouth set, his strong jaw worked. No doubt he felt a bit of unrest since Erik Bloodsinger had saved his life ten turns ago.

Still, after a pause, Livia’s life won out. Tor nodded curtly. “Then we want the same. We’ve spilled blood together before, and we’ll do it again.”

I trembled, words died like ash. I looked back to Calista, to Silas. Both met my stare. Calista had tears on her cheeks, but dipped her chin, nodding.

A path of fate.

My daughter’s fate was unfolding at the hands of a king of our enemies. A king with no love for my family, a king who could kill with the slightest drop of his blood. Erik Bloodsinger despised my husband. There was no mistaking he would take his vengeance out on my daughter.

If this was her fate, I would burn the Norns where they meddled at the base of the gods’ tree.

Gone.

My heart snapped, and the last thing I could recall was the echoes of my broken screams across the great hall.

2025 events bingo Bonds of Fate Bonus Scene Book Club Broken Kingdoms Broken Souls & Bones Calista Character Art COSAT Coupon Eastern Kingdom erik bloodsinger ever queen Forgotten Kingdoms Guild of Kryv launch party LIVE with LJ livia Madam Meadowsweet market day membership monstrous monthly tatto montrous necklaces Northern Kingdom Of Mischief and Mages Preorder Read along Signing Event Sigur Havn sigurhavn southern kingdom special edition special editions tattoo the eastern kingdom The Ever King The Ever Queen The Ever Seas The Northern Kingdom The Stolen Crown WesternKingdom When Fate is Cruel