as if it’s precious or if it’s fragile, and the difference between the two. Our females are both, especially while they’re of breeding age.”
I scoff. “You could use a different term. Breeding makes it sound as if they’re animals.”
“There are a lot of things our world could do differently to help our females.” His expression is thoughtful as he tries to poke my chest, but I implement one of his lessons, bending to the side to avoid contact. He smiles proudly, stepping away from my attempt to hit his shoulder. “The Day Realm men won’t stop abducting them anytime soon, regardless of what we’ve done to prevent it.”
“And your preventative measures would be…?”
“To even out the population, Kirian and I have an open-ended offer to Day Realm men—if they want the opportunity to meet our women the old-fashioned way, they can move here. All they have to do is serve five years in our military to show their loyalty. Like Tibbs. He was from the Day Realm, but he came to my kingdom to make a new life for himself.”
“Why don’t all the men do that?”
Damon shrugs. “Impatience. Also, lack of respect for females, which is unacceptable. Women are revered in Valora. The birth of a female is more celebrated than a male.”
“Even with royals?”
“It’s always been a rule that the firstborn child to the king and queen will be the rightful heir, no matter what gender. With fertility being so hit or miss, any child is better than none.”
“But you said fated mates usually have kids, so how could conceiving be a problem?”
“Oh, my naïve mate.” His sword knocks my upper arm, and he briefly swoops in to kiss the spot. “Not all fae wait for the chance to find their soul mate. In past generations, having a lone ruler was discouraged. In fact, it was almost a law that only a married couple could run a kingdom. Many princes and princesses settled for someone who wasn’t a fated match so they could gain the crown.”
“But what happened if they ended up meeting their fated mate at some point?”
Damon grimaces. “Things got messy. For the commoners, that particular situation isn’t difficult to solve. It would be a lot like a run-down-the-hill divorce in your world.”
“Run down the hill?” I briefly stop fighting to make sure I heard him right.
A sheepish look passes over his face. It’s the bewildered expression he always gets when he realizes he screwed up a human saying. And it’s adorable.
“Run of the mill?” he corrects himself.
My lips twitch with amusement. “Better.”
I come at him with several jabs, each one getting blocked with a loud clack of the wood. Although I’m not winning, it feels good to make the contact. Grinning, I back off.
“Fated or not, casting a king or queen aside isn’t a flippant matter,” Damon continues. “For royals it was more complicated. When they’ve been ruling for decades, hundreds, or even thousands of years, the people come to love them. To simply toss them out on their backside could cause riots. And if there were children involved… well, that was even worse. I suspect that’s why King Zarid kept Queen Rowan around. He didn’t love her, but she’d provided him with his only heir, and she was kind to their subjects. If he’d done away with her after her purpose was served, there might’ve been an uprising.”
“You still haven’t told me the solution.” Clack, clack, clack. “If someone does meet their soul mate, it’s not possible for them to stay apart.”
“Exactly. There were methods of getting the unwanted party out of the picture. Best case scenario? Moving them to a different wing of the castle while taking the true mate as a lover.”
“Why do I get the feeling that’s not what usually happened?”
Striking out, Damon comes within inches of my ribs. “Because you’re smart. Having them banished for minor offenses was the next step. Then mysterious poisoning or accidents leading to death. There was one instance of execution, but it was valid. A queen of the Day Realm tried to murder the fated mistress of the king, which would’ve eventually led to his death as well. It’s the highest offense one can commit here. Even worse than run-of-the-mill treason.”
Getting the saying right, he emphasizes his triumph with a waggle of his eyebrows. I fight a smile. His charm is too distracting.
Enough conversation. Time for victory.
More determined than ever, I close in on him. No hesitation. No holding back, just like he instructed in the