House of Blood and Whispers

Copyright © 2023 by Natalina Reis

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact https://natalinareis.com.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Book Cover by Adrijana Cernic of https://www.adriaticacreation.com/

Map by J.P. Kemp

Editing by Hot Tree Publishing

Also by

If you liked House of Blood and Whispers you might want to check out Natalina Reis’s other books.

Romantic Comedy:

We Will Always Have the Closet

Loved You Always

Blind Magic

Her Real Man

Fictional-ish

Dating the Intern

Dystopian Romance:

Heart’s Prey

MM Paranormal Romance:

Lavender Fields

Infinite Blue

Of Magic & Scales

Of Scales & Fire

Of Fire & Bone

Of Tails & Mistletoe

Foxy Tails

FM Paranormal Romance/Romantasy:

Dark Feathers

Kiss of the Swan

Desert Jewel

Snow Jewel

Rebel Jewel

Contents

Dedication

Disclosure/Trigger Warnings

Map

1.Caged

2.The Plan

3.The Courtyard

4.Layover

5.All the King's Men

6.Tangled

7.The Father

8.The Wedding

9.Kiss of Life

10.Rain

11.The Emperor

12.Punishment

13.Wounds

14.Emperor

15.The Dance

16.Stained

17.Falling

18.Cold and Cruel

19.Darkness

20.New Plan

21.Confession

22.Whisperer

23.Healing

24.Whispering Love

25.Taking Risks

26.The Flaw

27.Love War

28.Battle Mode

29.Victory & Defeat

30.Dagger

31.Long Live the Emperor

32.The Cold North

33.Karma

Glossary of Terms

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Follow the Author

Coming Soon

Dedication

Dedicated to all the kickass women who won’t let anyone put them in the corner.

Disclosure/Trigger Warnings

House of Blood and Whispers is a captivating romantic fantasy tale set in a kingdom governed by a ruthless emperor devoid of morals and principles. Within this narrative, you'll encounter depictions of battles, extreme brutality, gore, explicit language, mortality, severe wounds, and sexual content, all portrayed on the pages. If you have a sensitivity to such content, please take note and ready yourself to delve into the world of the Southern Kingdom.

Chapter 1

Caged

Everyone calls me Cahki, an old-language word that means hard and icy. Cruel.

It’d be hard to protest that assessment of my personality as I stood in the captain’s cabin, legs wide apart, braced for the few men who were still standing to attack. Bright red blood soaked my white tunic and pants and dripped from the blade of my raised sword.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The bodies of the three men who had dared to touch me earlier were scattered on the slippery wooden floor, forming a human line between me and the men who still breathed. The captain, a burly man in his forties, stood by his bed, sputtering nonsense and waving his broken sword in front of him as he ordered his sailors to overtake me.

The remaining two had taken stock of what I was capable of and hesitated. Had they known how exhausted I was, how my legs trembled beneath me, more liquid than solid, they wouldn’t have. The way every muscle of my body ached and spasmed meant one thing only: this battle was lost for me. But I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of victory so soon. I would keep them guessing until the last possible second, no matter how much pain it caused me.

I waited, sword at the ready even as my vision blurred. Soon, I’d pass out.

No food for at least three days and just the bare minimum of water had left me weak and woozy. The fact that I had managed to kill three of them gave me a sick kind of satisfaction. My dad would be proud. He had taught me well, and I would never go down without a fight to the end.

You might be smaller than most warriors, daughter, he always said, "but you have the spirit of a fjord pirate and the fierceness of a drage. And with the skills I taught you, there won’t be many men who can put you down."

I snorted, my sword hand shaking as I did.

What are you laughing at, you Northern whore? the captain yelled out. Do you realize what great honor has been bestowed upon you by our emperor?

I snorted again. Louder. Honor? You call being kidnapped and taken against my will to go warm the bed of a foreign king an honor? I spat on the floor, projecting it well enough to fall close to his boots. I’d rather die.

You just might get your wish, the captain said. He turned to his men. What the fuck are you waiting for? Get her.

The men stared at each other, and that momentary hesitation was all I needed to surprise them. There was no way I could win this, but damned if I would give up.

My sword sliced through the arm of one of the sailors as if cutting through butter, and I allowed myself a moment of triumph. I might not have killed him, but he would remember me for the rest of his miserable life. Unfortunately for me, the effort did me in. My legs gave up beneath me, and I sank down to the floor, sword still in hand and a stupid smile on my lips.

Maybe they would kill me right then, and that was all right by me.

Unfortunately, I heard the captain’s voice, hoarse from years of drinking high spirits, saying, Take the bitch and put her in a cage.

Damn!

Darkness fell, blissfully quiet and oblivious. It was the closest I was going to get to death today.

Something tickled my nose, and laughter bubbled out of my dry lips before I even opened my eyes. Mom often tickled me awake, heavy sleeper that I was when I had no chores and nowhere to be. In hindsight I probably should have kept my eyes closed, because when I slowly opened them, waiting for the blur of slumber to clear, two tiny beady eyes met my gaze, challenging and icky, two of eight, I realized before I reacted.

I screamed like a banshee and smacked my nose so hard, I was sure I’d have a black eye later. Sitting up on the cold metal floor, I swatted my face several times in the off chance that the furry spider was still on my nose.

Mocking laughter made me look to the side. Not so brave with spiders, are you, little whore? The guard, a scrawny young man who obviously spurned dental hygiene, pointed at me and laughed again.

After spitting in his direction, I looked around. Iron bars, just slightly taller than I was, surrounded me. I looked up to find more bars stretched overhead. This square space was a cage. I was caged like a wild animal.

"Get me out of here, jævel, I growled, searching for my sword and not finding it. Where’s my sword?"

The man, a boy really, stood up and took a couple steps closer but stopped far enough away that I couldn’t reach him. I don’t know what you called me, bitch, but I would start thinking before speaking, he said, his chin sticking out in a dare. You have no place to go. If the emperor didn’t want your kind so bad, you would have been dead by now.

And what kind might that be? You’re still wet behind your ears. What do you know about anything? I goaded him, hoping he would get close enough that I could wrap my hands around his neck. He didn’t take the bait.

Blond hair and fair skin kind, he replied, leaning in with a huff. You’re even more precious to him with your freaky white hair.

Oh wow, I apologize, then, I said with a mock bow. "You do know your stuff, jævel. Come closer and I will reward you with a kiss. The smirk died on his lips, and he blinked. What? You’ve never wondered what makes women like me so special? Don’t you want to try it?"

He licked his lips, and I could almost read his mind; he wanted to try it so bad, his hands shook. After a moment of silence, he took a step back and said, No way, witch. I won’t fall for your tricks.

More like he didn’t want to spur the emperor’s wrath by touching me that way, but I had to give him credit. He was not as dumb as he looked.

So, am I a bitch or a witch? I asked just to keep him talking. "You’re confusing me, jævel."

The little turd scowled and yelled, Don’t call me that, whatever it is.

I burst out laughing, throwing my head back, and then stopped suddenly. Make me, I growled with an eyebrow wiggle.

Unwisely, the young guard thrust his lance between the bars to hit me. Even from where I was standing, I could tell it was as blunt as a spoon, but it would do nicely. Just as he began to retract it, I grabbed it and gave it a pull. Surprised by the sudden move, the man tipped and was dragged forward until his body slammed onto the bars. I held the lance with one hand and headlocked him with the other arm, twisting his body around and nailing him against the metal rods.

Well, well, my friend, it looks as if the tables have been turned, I purred in his ear while poking him in the back with his own lance. He tried to scream but managed only a tiny squeak. Now, you have two options: you let me out of here, and I will do you a favor and knock you out so your captain doesn’t blame you. Or I just keep tightening this hold until you can’t breathe anymore. Your choice.

He mumbled something.

What was that? He choked as I pressed my arm harder around his neck. "Make a choice, jævel. I loosened my hold just enough to let him speak. He spat out a few words. Wise choice, boy. You choose to live. Good for you. I squeezed harder just in case he thought I was bluffing. Where are the keys to this cage?"

In my pocket, he whispered, digging in it like a squirrel after a nut in the winter.

After fumbling for a while, he produced a large key that he handed to me. I dropped the lance but wasn’t about to let him go. Stretching, I managed to insert the key into the keyhole and turn it. It clicked twice, and the door swung open.

"Good work, jævel," I said, stiffening my free hand before chopping it onto the side of his neck.

He went quiet and slack in my hold, slipping down until he was a puddle of human flesh on the dirty floor. I could have killed him, but he was young, and I keep my word. Most of the time.

Stepping over his unconscious body, I rushed to the door of the cabin, cracked it open, and took a look. I was in a moving ship somewhere in the Southern Sea. I had no idea how I was going to get out of here. Swimming was an option. The waters here were much warmer than the ones of the Northern Sea where I had learned to endure long hours in the water. But who knew where I was exactly? What if there were no islands close enough for me to swim to? I had no wish to continue on this ship and become a concubine to the idiot emperor who ruled the Southern Kingdom, but I also had no death wish. Jumping off this vessel was pure suicide.

But I can make them believe I did.

Beaming at the brilliancy of my idea, I snuck out of the room and slithered behind and between cargo crates to reach a nook close to the railing. I slipped out of my overtunic that was once white but was now almost grey, spattered with the dark red stains of the men I killed.

This would have to suffice. All I had to do was lie in wait and prevent my growling stomach from giving me away.

It was not a long wait. Mere minutes later, the clatter and screaming that arose from the place where I had been caged told me my guard had woken up. Men, stirred into a frenzy by the sound of the alarm, began searching for me. I couldn’t wait too long.

I climbed the railing and stood up, balancing on the slippery wood. "Hey, jævler, I’m over here! I yelled out, waving my arms above my head and hoping all my experience climbing icy cliffs would serve me well. I’d rather die than bed your stupid moron of an emperor. Goodbye." I jumped over the railing, holding on to it for dear life with one hand and throwing the tunic into the waters below. As quickly as I could, I climbed back onto the deck, hidden by the crates, and sat quietly listening to the commotion I had caused.

I see her in the water, someone said. Should we try to rescue her?

Leave it be, the captain replied. Good riddance. She was nothing but trouble.

But the emperor would have paid us a fortune for her sort, another sailor complained with such disappointment in his voice, I was almost sorry for him.

She already killed several of our men, the captain snapped, obviously annoyed and wanting the conversation to be over. Let her drown. She’d probably kill the emperor, and we would be blamed for it.

Impressive reasoning for such a basic mind. He was right about that. I would totally sink a dagger into the emperor’s chest as soon as I had a chance. I suppose I was doing everyone a favor by dying before delivery.

Now if I could only get a bite to eat, I’d be satisfied.

If at first I cursed the rain that fell mercilessly over everything and everyone in the busy harbor, I soon came to appreciate its use in camouflaging us all in a mantle of blurry grey, including my fugitive self. I was so weak from barely eating anything the past week, I was afraid I’d collapse and be trampled by the rushing people and horses coming to and fro along the quay. Out of caution, I stuck to the side of the narrow road, melting onto the wall of closed stalls and giant piles of cargo. Even though it couldn’t be later than noon, it was dark and frigid. Not the kind of cold I was used to, which was icy but dry. Instead, this kind of chill seeped into my bones and made me shiver uncontrollably, my teeth clapping together like demented clams. My clothing had been reduced to a thin layer of an undertunic and pants, neither proving to be enough of a protection, even with their fur lining, now that my outer garment was gone. The fact that I’d had nothing but stolen or discarded scraps to eat for the past few days did not help either.

I had to get out of there, find a warm hiding place, and get something in my belly. Then, I’d be able to think straight and make a plan to go back home.

Sighing, I slunk past clusters of unrecognizable people and undefined shapes, heading away from the waterfront in hopes of finding a dry spot where I could hunker down for the night. I wondered whether there were wild creatures roaming these parts, something I might catch and eat. I was not above eating a rat if that meant survival, but I hoped I didn’t have to go that far.

The captain of my ship had long left the vessel, followed by a small mob of his men. He had huffed and puffed on his way down the plank, flustered and waving his short arms this way and that as if he had no control over them. The wind had picked up and had no mercy on the captain’s hair, which he tried unsuccessfully to pat down and away from his face.

The emperor will blame us, I just know it, he’d said, his rough voice carried by the wind all the way to where I was hiding. Even though we had nothing to do with the death of the white-haired whore, we are going to be blamed.

That had brought a smile to my face. A small, but satisfying retribution for my kidnapping. Let them sweat. I only hoped the emperor was as cruel as he was famed to be and that he’d exact a harsh punishment on all of them.

Their small retinue was way ahead of me, but I could still guess the way they were heading, possibly toward a tavern where they would meet with one of the emperor’s envoys. I would be heading the other way. My hair was so soaked, you couldn’t tell it was white. A nice side effect of the annoying rain. In a land of mostly dark-haired people, I would not escape notice otherwise.

A few more yards into the narrow, dark streets, and I stopped, raising my nose to sniff the air. A delicious scent covered all the bad smells of the port and made my mouth water. What was that? It smelled like meat, and images of my mother’s kanin stew immediately flooded my senses. I could almost taste the tender meat of the ice rabbit, smothered in a thick, savory sauce that warmed your stomach and healed your soul.

I licked my lips and followed the smell. Maybe they’d throw away the leftovers, and I wanted to be there to eat them. The scent had magic of a sort, making it hard to resist. I blamed it on a very empty stomach, but couldn’t help but feel there was something strange about it. Tracking it all the way to an alley—the back of an inn maybe—I dropped down onto my bottom, my back against the wall, and waited. For what, I wasn’t sure. Was I hoping someone would open that door and throw me a bowl of stew? Or maybe even just a bone?

The weird daze that kept me prisoner had blurred the contours of my thoughts. No matter how many times I shook my head to dispel the fuzziness that had taken residence in my brain, I couldn’t clear it. It was as if something had anchored me to that spot. My legs and arms felt as heavy as my head. I couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong but couldn’t muster the energy to fight it.

We got her, I heard an unfamiliar male voice say. "Jeonha, come see."

My unfocused eyes couldn’t quite make out who was beside me, but two dark legs appeared in front of me. This is her? a low voice asked. The figure crouched beside me and studied my face. She’s in bad shape.

The voice told me it was a male, but all I could discern from his body and face was darkness. All of him was dark, from the boots he wore to the hair on his head.

Go get the carriage, the man said, standing up. Quick.

My voice seemed to have vanished, and I couldn’t move as the stranger scooped me into his arms. Fear should be filling me, but whatever was holding me in place didn’t allow me to panic. Instead, just like the man who was carrying me, everything around and inside me turned dark.

And I let the darkness take me away.

It was getting old quickly, this habit of waking up in strange places and finding myself behind bars. At least this time I was in a large room, lying on a comfortable bed with soft, warm blankets over me. Once I was able to focus my eyes, I took a better look at it. Not wanting to move until I assessed my current situation, I relied on my eyes to do the exploring. The space was almost a perfect square, which annoyed me to no end. I had always had an irrational dislike for square things: too perfect, too angular. I preferred the smoothness and infinity of rounded shapes. Despite the bars on the wide double doors, the room was cozy and practical if not pretty. It was my kind of room—minus the bars preventing me from leaving. The only window, a large arched architectural beauty, was also barred but allowed the rays of the sun to fill the space with a comfortable warm glow. After the freezing cold of the night before, I was grateful for that and actually sighed in delight.

Are you stupid, woman?

I was obviously going crazy. The hunger, the cold, the exhaustion and anxiety of the past week or so had apparently damaged my brain. And speaking of which, my stomach was still cramping from lack of sustenance. My senses zoomed in on the small square table—what was the deal with all the square stuff?—and my heart almost jumped into my throat. There were plates of delicious-looking food on it, still warm if the steam wafting from it was to be believed.

My instincts ordered me to run to it and gobble it all up, but my training held me in place. What if that’s what the enemy wanted? And even if they were not watching me, what if the food was poisoned? I stayed put for a moment, deliberating on my choices. They weren’t good: I either starved myself and continued pretending I was unconscious, or I got up and ate and replenished my energy.

I picked the latter. After all, if I could get some nourishment in me, then maybe I could fight my way out. Or at least die happy.

Sliding my legs from under the covers and over the edge of the bed, I got up and cautiously moved toward the table. Nothing happened. No one showed up, so I moved faster to sit down and wasted no time attacking the meal in front of me. There was even a hot, sweet drink I couldn’t identify but that flowed like honey over my sore throat. Instantly I felt stronger, waves of energy running through my veins and warming every inch of my weakened body.

Once nothing was left on the plates but crumbs and the seeds from a strangely tart and sweet orange fruit, I circled the room. Prowled, really. With my hands behind my back, I