Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
I sat in one of the palace’s grand sitting rooms, a space bathed in the golden light of Emberfall’s eternal sun, the warmth from the high windows making the place feel like a cocoon. After the tension of the last few days—dodging the king’s questions, navigating the icy glares of his other wives—I had thought a few moments of quiet might give me space to think.
But the peace didn’t last.
“You must be thrilled!” came Vivienne’s lilting voice as she strolled into the room, her long, flowing dress trailing elegantly behind her. The mischief in her eyes and the playful smirk on her lips told me she was about to drop something that would wreck whatever fragile calm I had found. “A summer home named after you? What an honor.”
I blinked, caught off guard by her entrance. “What are you talking about?”
She paused, raising an eyebrow as though I should have known. “The proclamation, of course. Haven’t you heard?”
I frowned, my stomach tightening at her teasing tone. “No, I haven’t heard. What proclamation?”
Vivienne sighed dramatically, tossing her chestnut hair over her shoulder as she sauntered closer, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Apparently, our dear King Ciaran has decided to name his new summer home after you.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What?” I stammered. “Why?”
Vivienne gave a little laugh, the sound light but laced with mockery. “To make a statement, of course.”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Vivienne continued, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. “It’s quite the bold move, really. But poor Lyra,” she added with a smirk, “she’s going to kill you.”
“Why would she kill me?”
Vivienne rolled her eyes, her lips curling into a sly smile. “The king hasn’t done something like this for any of us. I mean, naming a home after his newest wife? It’s a slap in the face to every one of us—especially Lyra.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “Why me?”
“Oh, darling,” Vivienne mewed, moving to sit across from me, draping herself across the cushions with the grace of a cat. “Because he’s making a statement. You’re the newest, the freshest… and clearly, you’ve made an impression.”
I realized in an instant what was truly happening. Blessed ancestors, this was Ciaran making the Dragon King jealous. He’d begun his ploy.
Vivienne’s eyes glinted with something I couldn’t quite read—curiosity, amusement, perhaps a touch of jealousy. I shifted in my seat, the unease building. “I didn’t do anything.”
Vivienne raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin. “You must have. After all, you’re the one with the summer home now. So, tell me”—her voice dropped into a teasing lilt—“how did you do it?”
My cheeks burned. “Do what?”
“Oh, don’t play coy,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “The king clearly likes you. I’ve been trying for years to get him to… notice me.”
I blinked, unsure how to respond. “What are you talking about?”
Vivienne let out a soft laugh, leaning back and studying me with playful eyes. “I thought the king didn’t like women.”
I stared at her, my mind racing. “What?”
She shrugged as though it were the most casual thing in the world. “I’ve tried my best to seduce him, but from what I understand, he hasn’t slept with any of his wives. Not even Lyra.” She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “I’ve… spread rumors here and there, of course. Keeps the intrigue alive. But truly, he doesn’t seem all that… interested.”
I blinked at her, trying to process the information. Ciaran hadn’t slept with any of his wives? None of them?
“But you,” Vivienne said, her voice laced with amusement as she leaned forward again, eyes gleaming, “you’re the first wife to get a wedding night.”
My face went cold. “We didn’t…”
“Darling,” she interrupted with a laugh, her eyes dancing with wicked delight. “You’re the first to get a real wedding ceremony, the first to be honored with a summer home named after you. Of course, you’re also the first wife who gets a proper wedding night. Do tell, how was it?”
I opened my mouth, scrambling for a response, but the words stuck in my throat. “No, we didn’t—” I started to say, but Vivienne waved her hand dismissively.
“Oh, come now. You don’t have to be modest with me. I’m dying to know.” She leaned in even closer, her voice dropping into a teasing whisper. “Was he as cold as the rumors say?”
I shook my head, my mind spinning. “We didn’t… have a wedding night.”
Vivienne blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”
I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, the embarrassment swirling with frustration. “We didn’t do anything.”
For a moment, Vivienne simply stared at me, her eyes wide with surprise. Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at her lips. “Hah!” she laughed, her voice low and full of amusement. “You’re not serious, are you?”
I folded my arms, feeling defensive now. “I’m completely serious.”
Vivienne let out a laugh, the sound rich with disbelief. “That is… fascinating.”
I frowned, my mind racing to catch up. “Fascinating?”
She leaned back in her chair, shaking her head with a grin. “Well, well. It seems our dear king is full of surprises. No wonder he named a summer home after you. You’re teasing him.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words faltered as I remembered Ciaran’s words—about making the Dragon King jealous. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now… now it all felt like a chess game, with me as the centerpiece.
Vivienne stretched luxuriously, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Whatever you did, darling, you’ve certainly caught his attention. Whether it’s to make a statement to us, to the Dragon King, or to the court… well, it seems you’ve become quite the topic of conversation.”
I hadn’t intended to make waves—I was just trying to survive in this palace, to keep my secrets hidden. But Ciaran—he was playing a game I wasn’t prepared for.
And now, I had a summer home named after me.
The playful smirk hadn’t even fully faded from Vivienne’s lips when the sound of distant screams echoed through the palace halls. The air seemed to shift, growing colder as the shrieks of rage and fury filled the castle, sending a chill down my spine.
Vivienne raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by the chaos. “Ah. That must be Lyra getting the news.” She glanced at me, her expression still dripping with amusement. “If I were you, I’d run. Quickly.”
Before I could even respond, another scream tore through the air. I didn’t need to be told twice. My feet moved before I could think, propelling me out of the sitting room and into the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest.
The shadows seemed to stretch, the wails of Lyra’s rage growing louder with every step I took. My pulse raced as I rounded a corner, my mind spinning with the realization that Ciaran’s proclamation had just painted a massive target on my back. Whatever game he was playing, I was the pawn—and now, I was running for my life.
Just as I turned into another corridor, I collided with something solid and unyielding. A pair of strong hands grabbed my arms, pulling me into the shadows of a side hallway.
I gasped, ready to scream—until I looked up and found Ciaran staring down at me, his amber eyes gleaming in the dim light.
“You,” I hissed, shoving his chest hard enough to push him back a step. “What the hell is your problem?”
He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, just looked down at me with that infuriating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Problem?”
“Your wives hate me!” I snapped, feeling my frustration boiling over. “And you just made me enemy number one. Do you hear her?” I gestured toward the direction of Lyra’s wails, my voice rising. “She’s going to kill me.”
He sighed, clearly not sharing my urgency. “Relax. Lyra likes to make a scene.”
“A scene?!” I couldn’t believe how calm he was. “You named a summer home after me! You basically told her—and everyone else—that I’m your favorite.”
“I didn’t say that,” he said casually, leaning against the wall as though we weren’t surrounded by the sounds of rage and chaos. “I’m just getting the Dragon King’s attention. Drawing him out.”
I stared at him, my mouth falling open. “You honestly think naming a summer home after me is going to do anything?”
He shrugged, that maddening smirk still in place. “It’s a start.”
My frustration boiled over. I shoved his chest again, but he didn’t budge. “That’s not going to make anyone jealous, you idiot!”
The smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “No? Then tell me, Princess…” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “What would make someone jealous?”
His breath was warm against my skin, and the tension between us thickened, wrapping around me like a vise. I tried to steady my voice, my mind scrambling for a response.
“I don’t know,” I stammered, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “I’ve never—” I cut myself off, realizing I was about to admit too much.
Ciaran raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by my hesitation. “Never?” he repeated softly, the question hanging in the air between us like a challenge.
“I mean…” I stumbled over my words, trying to recover. “Ask Vivienne. She seems like more of an expert.”
His smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with something darker. “Maybe,” he murmured. “But she’s not the one I’m interested in.”
The words sent a jolt of electricity through me, and I felt the air between us shift, thick with tension that had nothing to do with Lyra’s wails in the distance.
“Would kissing you draw him out?” he asked.
I stared up at him, the words slipping away from me. The teasing in his voice was still there, but there was something more now, something darker and more serious. I could feel the weight of the question, the implications of what he was suggesting.
I tried to regain my composure. “I think…” I said slowly, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I think you’re directing your attention to the wrong things.”
He chuckled, a low rumbling sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Am I?”
I nodded, though my heart was pounding in my chest, and I could barely breathe under the intensity of his gaze. “Yes,” I said firmly, though it took everything in me to keep my voice steady. “If you want to make the Dragon King jealous, kissing me isn’t going to help.”
Ciaran tilted his head slightly, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful, more dangerous. “You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
He was silent for a moment, his eyes locking onto mine, and I could feel the heat radiating off him, the closeness of his body almost too much to handle. The weight of his gaze felt like a challenge, a test.
Finally, he leaned back, his smirk returning. “You might be right,” he said. “But it’s certainly more fun this way.”
I scowled, my frustration bubbling up again. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “But I always get what I want, Princess.”
The words hung between us, heavy with implication. The tension coiled tighter, and I could feel the pull between us, as dangerous as it was undeniable.
“Let’s just focus on your real problem,” I snapped, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Like the fact that your wives want me dead.”
Ciaran chuckled, the sound rich with amusement. “That’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”
I glared at him. “It’s not fun for me.”
“Don’t worry, Princess. I won’t let them kill you.”
“How reassuring,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.
He took a step back, giving me a little space, though the tension still remained in the air between us. “I have a plan,” he said.
I shot him a look. “I’m not sure I trust you.”
His smirk widened. “You will.”