56. Reyla
56
REYLA
A s the door to the hallway closed behind me, I let out a shaky breath. I wanted to punch something—one particularly snide fae man, actually, though I doubted he'd “permit” my strike to hit.
My ladies flowed around me, their gazes filled with concern, though they didn't speak. They could tell something was bothering me, and I appreciated that they could respect my privacy enough not to ask.
“I'll be fine, ladies.” I could only host a croaky whisper. “I won't need you any more tonight.”
“But my queen.” Calista exchanged heavy looks with Moira and Faelith. “We need to help you out of your gown. Your hair! And I'm sure you'd like to bathe.” She clapped her hand, taking charge. “Faelith, go start the water. Moira? I'd like you to—”
“No!” I lowered my voice when they stilled. “I need time alone. Please. I appreciate you all very much.” I could barely drag up a smile. “Go spend time at the ball. You're high ladies and entitled to be there. Faelith, I'm sure you and Surren want to dance. You're engaged. You deserve a night on the dance floor in his arms.”
“But . . . my queen.” She dipped forward in a deep curtsy. “He must remain here to guard you.”
“The others can handle this. There must be fifteen men and women out there. They can take care of me for one night.”
She swallowed with difficulty, her gaze meeting Calista's. “What about Farris?”
“I'll ask one of the guards to take him outside. Please. Go.” I flapped my hands at them, urging them toward the door. “Have fun at the ball.”
Moira's eyes locked on mine. “Are you sure you'll be alright? Truly?”
“I will be.” Eventually. By morning. Or tomorrow night. Or the day after that.
No matter what, I wasn't going to Lore again, ever.
They hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded and left the room, promising to see me in the morning.
I asked one of the guards to take Farris outside, and I fretted the entire time they were gone. Not because I was worried about the nyxin. I knew the guard would take good care of my pet. But I wanted to get out of this gown and put this wretched end to my evening behind me. I couldn't do that until the door to the hall was locked for the night.
I stalked into my bedroom and grabbed my knives, then started throwing them against the back of the door. Each satisfying smack of a hit did nothing for my inner tension, but it kept me from falling apart.
Finally, the guard brought Farris back, my little guy dashing into the room, bringing moonlight and fresh air with him. With a forced smile, I dismissed the guard, and she strode back into the hall.
I locked the door behind her and slumped against it, grateful to finally be alone.
Farris followed me into my bedroom, skipping along in a playful way that made me want to shriek or wither to the floor and cry. I patted his head instead.
“You’re a good boy, Farris. The best.” My voice broke.
Actually, everything inside me broke.
After removing the lovely gown from my body with a series of gentle tugs, I laid it over the back of the vanity chair, then stripped off my undergarments. I stood naked in front of the tall mirror, staring at my reflection, wearing only the jewelry Merrick had given me. Each piece, once a symbol of his affection, now felt like a betrayal.
With careful fingers, I took off the earrings and the dragonfly necklace, placing them back into the velvet-lined case Merrick had brought them in. My heart ached with each removal, and I couldn't hold back my snarl as I wrenched off the bracelet and flung it onto the bed. It bounced once and lay gleaming in the low lights.
It mocked me as much as Lore had on the balcony.
The mark on my wrist burned, a physical reminder of the connection I shared with the man who was not my husband. Conflict lashed inside me, a stormy sea. No matter how hard I fought it, Lore's pull was too strong to ignore.
Married to Merrick or not, I was drawn to another man. I couldn't deny it to him, and I'd be a fool to deny it to myself.
How could I continue to resist him when his every touch sent searing pleasure through my veins?
Frustrated, I stalked into the bathroom and turned on the tap over the tub. I watched as the water filled the luxurious stone monstrosity, hoping the water's soothing warmth would seep into my soul.
Farris watched, whimpering. He could sense my dismay.
When the water nearly crested the brim, I stepped inside, feeling it lap at my skin as I wrenched the numerous pins from my hair, flinging them against the wall like darts that pinged on the stone before plunging down to impale themselves in the wooden floor. I lathered my hair and rinsed it, then scrubbed the paint from my face. With each swipe of the cloth, I tried to wash away my inner turmoil, hoping to rid myself of the indecision determined to consume me.
When the water started to cool, I climbed out, shivering as I dried my body. I dressed in a simple nightgown and stumbled into the bedroom with Farris padding behind me. He hopped up onto the bed and gave me a mournful look that told me he'd not only picked up my mood but reflected it. I dropped down onto the blankets beside him, curling around him for warmth.
I drifted to sleep . . .
. . . and I dreamed.
Lore chased me through the halls, shouting to whoever would listen that I was his fated mate, that I'd only ever belong to him.
Merrick raced beside him, calling for me to come back.
Come back . . .
I woke sometime the next morning to Calista calling out and knocking on the door of the suite I’d made sure to lock on the inside to keep everyone out. Slipping off the bed, I trudged into the sitting area with Farris padding beside me. I secured his collar and leash, then unlocked the door, nudging him through the partial opening until he impacted with her legs.
“I’d like you three to take him for a walk.” I shoved my hair off my face. It was a mess. No wonder they stared at me with shock blazing in their eyes and their jaws unhinged. “I’m feeling . . . unwell.”
Heartsick, actually.
“Oh, no,” Calista breathed in dismay, trying to nudge the panel wider, to slip inside where she could take control of my life. “My queen. Allow me to—”
“Please.” I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “I need to be alone. I’m fine. Just something I drank last night.” Or one particular conversation that still haunted me.
She drew herself up stiffly. “If you insist.”
Faelith sniffed. Moira continued to watch me with sympathy.
“What about food?” Calista asked .
“Bring a tray,” I said. “I’ll be happy to eat and give it back to you when I’m finished.”
“You expect us to wait out here in the hall?” she huffed.
“Can’t we join you in the sitting area?” Moira wrung her hands. “We won’t bother you a bit, my queen. You can remain in your bedroom, but you’d know we were near enough to serve your needs.”
“I don’t need anything.” Except silence. Blessed silence. “I’ll let you know if I need you. I promise.”
With that, I shut the door in their faces. What a lovely queen I was making already. My staff would soon revolt or demand they be assigned to someone new.
Other than taking trays from them with regularity, I remained in my room all day, pacing, grumbling, and, dressed in a tunic and pants, throwing endless knives against the door until I’d turned it into a scarred wreck.
Merrick didn’t come knocking.
Neither did Lore, thankfully.
As the sun started to slink toward the horizon, I found myself standing at the window, staring blindly out at the gardens.
And that’s when I finally—finally—knew what I had to do.
“Fuck it,” I snarled, loud enough Farris looked up at me from the sofa. His tail throbbed on the cushion and his eyes lit. He must think I was about to announce we were going outside.
Not quite.
I stalked to the door and swung it open.
Calista caught herself with her palms slapping onto the frame before she fell through the opening. “Yes, my queen? What can we do for you?”
“Where is King Merrick?” I asked.
Her gaze darted down the hall. “He has retired for the night.”
“I want to speak with him.” So much more than speak with him, but I wasn’t going to announce that to my ladies.
“He asked not to be disturbed,” Surren announced in a deep voice.
I lifted my eyebrows. “Is he sick?”
“Not that I’m aware of, my queen,” he hurried to say. “But he will not welcome anyone’s company.”
“It’s not even dark yet.” No one could be that tired.
Maybe he was ill. Was this why all the men in his family died so young?
“Nonetheless, you’ll need to wait to see him in the morning,” Surren said.
Not happening.
Pacing the sitting area until Faelith returned Farris from his walk, I ran this through in my mind. Once I'd urged her back into the hall and locked the door, I hurried into my bedroom and stripped, dressing in my old, familiar fortress leathers, including my new blades because they felt symbolic.
I strode to one of the tall bedroom windows and thrust it open, leaning out to peer along the side of the castle wall to Merrick's window down from my own. The height would frighten almost anyone but a dragon rider. Still, I gaped at the ground many stories below. Leave it to a king to claim a suite on the upper level where he could command the best view .
At least I wouldn’t need to cut handholds into the castle's pretty surface.
Hitching my leg over the sill, I perched, weaving the toe of my boot around until I could secure it on one of the many jutting stones making up the castle's outer wall.
I plucked a blade from the sheath at my side and clutched it between my teeth in case I needed to add to my grip. Large blocks jutted out here and there from the mortar holding the wall together. I clung to those, slowly edging my way across the surface, aiming for Merrick's window he'd thankfully left partway open.