The Beast of Salt (Saga of the Gods #1)

11. Avina

11

AVINA

August 19th, Year 100, 9th Era

Treland Arena

T he sun quickly sets over the coast, stealing even the stars from the moonless sky. Avina settles Nellie into her basket with a ceramic bowl of water before leaving for the reception next door.

Avina enters a vast open-air structure made of polished black marble columns and adorned with luscious gardens and fountains.

Tonight’s soiree is an invitation-only for the Arena’s most wealthy and influential patrons.

She is still nauseous from Sigvid’s match with Face. The longer she thinks about the competition, the more personal his actions seem compared to his other fights.

“Shadow! Fancy finding you here.” Bertie reaches out to her in his impeccably styled plum suit. “The Beast is all anyone can talk about.” His blue eyes sparkle. He is no doubt imbibing much tonight away from his home and husband .

“What brings you all this way, cousin? Are you a patron?” She questions as he is typically abhorrent to violence as a general rule.

They embrace, and he kisses her head before he permits her to leave his arms. Yep, she can smell the wine wafting from him like a cologne.

“Let me be clear. I am not a patron of this vile establishment, but my husband’s gambling issue funds our entrance into these shindigs. I am here for you.” He smiles, draping an arm over her shoulder.

“I overheard your father mention Prince Sigvid’s new home in the Arena, and something told me my dear Shadow would be a benefactor.” His gray eyes scrutinize her as if she is keeping secrets from him. He removes his arm and offers it to her.

She accepts it, and they sashay into the party. A waitress passes by, and Avina swipes a glass of champagne from the tray.

“Why would you suspect that?”

“Because I have never seen two people more obsessed with one another.” He looks down at her mid-sip of his wine.

“He has been my enemy for so long now. I learned everything I could to defeat him, and now I have. Can I not celebrate his demise?” She takes a noisy gulp of the bubbly wine.

At least they sprung for sweet Timber wine instead of the bone-dry Ridge crap .

“Uh-huh.” Bertie's judgmental eyes bore down on her from over the top of his goblet.

“What?” She narrows her eyes at him.

“I heard he is magnificent in the ring with the dual axes his mysterious sponsor gifted him with. Those I have talked to consider his fighting style a stunning display of power and terror.”

Yes, he is all of those things.

“I cannot imagine who is springing the money for his fancy axes,” Bertie whispers with a smile.

They dodge their way through the crowd until they arrive at the wine casks.

“Whatever do you mean?” A secret grin brushes across her lips while she finishes her first glass.

“You can lie to yourself, Shadow, but do not lie to me.” He pours them both a second large glass of wine .

She sighs, crossing her arms underneath her breasts. “I felt guilty, all right? Had I not brought him in for questioning, the Council would not have insisted on ruling on his fate.” She glances into her wine cup with a softer expression. “At least we are even now.” She mutters.

Bertie scoffs so hard that wine is coughing up from his mouth through his nasal passages. “Do my ears deceive me, or does Queen Avina sympathize with the Beast?”

“Sympathy?” Her laugh is hollow. “How do you compare my guilt over condemning a man to sympathy for that barbarian?”

“Because I heard you paid for him to have a private cell too, not just the hot meals, a bed, and brand new freaking axes, Avina! And the one comfort he does not have are prostitutes.”

She scoffs and looks away.

That is the only comfort she refuses to provide. Why? Because she is a sad, lonely woman with far too many outrageous fantasies about a man who has attempted and threatened to kill her. Call it jealousy or an obsession, but it is her money, and she’ll be damned if Sigvid gets laid once a week while she lay crying over what her fingers couldn’t provide.

“And why do I even have to bring this up? He is Sigvid bloody Thordsson. Avina, this is the man who burned Timber Province villages and fields to the freaking ground! He pillaged towns and didn’t just kill your soldiers. No, he committed war crimes on deserters and prisoners of war from your army. Yet, you feel guilty because your advisors forced him to fight for his life? What did you have in mind for his fate?”

Avina refuses to respond and instead finishes her second glass of wine. Her cheeks flush a dusty rose, but whether from the sweet wine or his accusation that she holds affection for someone like the Salt Prince is unclear.

Ha! Affection for Sigvid? Bertie’s sense of humor is ripe from the wine.

“I worry for you, Shadow. You have a big heart and trust too easily. That’s all.”

Bertie drops the subject, and they lapse into people-watching while munching on a tray of crostini appetizers they stole from a table of Timber lords.

“Bertie?” She considers the bit of information Sigvid relinquished during the torture. A tiny nugget of knowledge she has spent some of her free time exploring. And now, without letters to trace back, she decides to ask the man who knows everything and everyone in the Ridge.

He looks over at her with a quizzical expression.

“Have you heard of a Lord Leto back home?”

“Ah, you mean Lord Lembo-”

“No.” She interrupts more harshly than she intends. “I am certain I mean Lord Leto.”

He chuckles at her intensity. “Shadow, you still spend a chunk of your time in the Sapphire Palace-”

“I am coming to you because you know everyone, and your memory of people and places is impeccable. Please, Bertie.”

“Which is why I find it comical that you came up with some wildly fabricated name like Leto. It reminds me of the ‘wager wigs’ the older royals pick during their closed-door gambling den sessions.”

Her vacant eyes must be enough for him because he sighs and leans closer. “Your grandfather started secret gambling dens for him and his buddies to hide away from their wives. The men enjoy wearing masks and donning false names. I went once and found the whole thing extravagantly cloak and dagger.”

“Does anyone use the name Leto?” She presses.

He shrugs. “No one to my knowledge.”

“I need another drink.” She disappears and pours herself two glasses of wine, finishing them both at the bar before jerking him to the dance floor. They spin unsteadily under the black night. He twirls her around, fluttering her short black dress around her kneecaps.

Her attire did not need to be stately at the Arena due to the rule prohibiting any overt political maneuvering from occurring. Instead, she will enjoy good alcohol and excellent music while wearing a dress that would appall someone like Duke Samson.

“You know, cousin. I may not be attracted to women,” he pauses to drain a bottle of wine he had absconded with, “but you are prettier than you give yourself credit. No, don’t shake your head at me, Shadow. Tell me Rendel isn’t the only man you’ve been with.”

Avina cradles an unopened bottle of wine in her left hand while her right throws the last of some ginger mead from the Salt Province down her throat.

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh ho, what about the night of your engagement party?”

Her blush betrays her thoughts to Bertie.

“Ah, ha! And I'm telling you now, that man was Prince Sigvid.” Bertie bursts into uncharacteristic giggles.

Is this his third or fourth bottle of wine?

“Is that the reason for your obsession during that whole war mess?” He waves his hand as if a ‘war mess’ is something you encounter daily. “Because you hoped he would finish what he started in Uncle Ceowald’s study?” He slurs his words.

Avina laughs so hard that she pulls a stitch from her side. “You are so drunk.”

“And you are not drunk enough. Here.” He pops the cork of her bottle and then hands it back.

Avina doesn’t think and takes a long swig.

Sigvid cropped up throughout her life in several fateful incidents. At best, he is a walking coincidence. Besides, she had taken her fair share of swipes at him during the war, not to mention her final move to entrap him.

He may have been one of the few people in her life who made her feel seen as a strong woman, but he is still nothing more than a beast.

And with that final thought, the rest of the night becomes a blur of wine.