Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Abbie hums softly behind me, her hands gentle as she runs a brush through my hair.
I’m glad of her presence and not afraid to admit that I do not want to be on my own after the Queen attacked me last night.
Reclined on a soft armchair, I stare out the window and watch the gardens, but that is not what I am really seeing.
No, my mind is on the attack and the reason behind it.
I had woken from unconsciousness to find Abbie at my side and Amir watching me silently from the other side of the room.
I have never seen him look so quiet and pensive before, as though he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
When I had opened my mouth to speak, only a series of croaks and wheezes could be heard before the pain in my throat stopped me from trying. Amir left the room at that point.
Ever since, Abbie has been by my side, making sure that I’m okay.
I’m bruised all over, but they are nothing to the lump on the back of my head and the neckless of bruises around my neck.
It has become clear to me that I am not as safe here as I thought I was, and I have no one to blame but myself.
Without Kit’s involvement this would have never happened.
The soothing presence of Abbie and her soft fingers through my hair are helping to keep me mellow, but there is one thing I want to know.
“Will the Queen be okay?”
She was searching for a demon, one that was there because of me. While I can’t say for sure that she wouldn’t have had a breakdown, I cannot help but think I am the reason behind it. If anything was to happen to her as a result, I would never be able to forgive myself.
Abbie hums in consideration, continuing to work her brush through my knotted hair.
“When she has had these episodes before, she is usually confided to her rooms for treatment.” A heavy pause fills the air between us and I brace myself for what is coming next.
“However, she has never almost killed someone before. Not to mention how important you are…”
Guilt twists my stomach and I feel nauseous, not needing her to continue.
I want to snort at her last comment. My life is worth no more than anyone else’s, and I won’t allow her to get hurt because of this.
“I will speak to the king.” I’m speaking more to myself than Abbie, confirming my course of action.
“The Queen will now feature in my nightmares, but I don’t want her harmed. She is sick and needs help.”
I feel like shit saying this when she was partially right. There was a demon in the palace last night and no one is going to believe her. However, it is clear she is struggling, and if there is help available for her then she should take it.
“You are very kind,” Abbie comments softly, laying a hand on my shoulder and squeezing gently.
She means it as a compliment, but if anything, it makes me feel worse. With the weight of the world on my shoulders, I slowly release a long sigh. “No, I’m not.”
There is a knock at the door and I flinch.
I know Abbie sees it, but thankfully she says nothing.
Lowering my brush, she steps around me and makes her way to the door.
Not bothering to see who my visitor is, I continue to stare out of the window, the bright sunny morning at such contrast to the mist that surrounds my mind.
Voices fade into the distance as I lock my focus onto a single butterfly, its almost translucent wings somehow giving it flight.
Such a fragile creature, yet it has more freedom than I do.
A figure appears at my side and I manage not to flinch, glancing across at Abbie. Her expression puts me onto alert, although I cannot quite place a finger on what exactly is causing the reaction.
“The prince is here. The King has requested your presence and Prince Amir wishes to escort you.” Ah, that explains her part excited, part concerned look.
She, like much of the rest of the palace, believe that something is going on between myself and the prince.
However, after last night, she has become protective of me.
It is something I haven’t experienced in a long time and I am not sure how to react.
Swallowing the lump in the back of my throat, I slowly stand and brush down the front of my dress. I want to see Amir, but any conversation about his mother is only going to make me feel guilty. Meeting with the king, however, I could do without. What is he going to demand from me now?
Stepping out into the hallway, a smile instantly pulls at my lips. Amir is waiting several feet away, his hands clamped behind him. He’s wearing a dusky orange tunic with golden accents today, which looks amazing against his skin tone.
“Good morning, your highness,” I greet, dipping into a curtsy.
He is at my side in an instant, placing a kiss on the back of my hand, his eyes scanning my face for injuries.
I have a few scratches on my face, but his gaze is instantly drawn to my neck and the purpling fingerprints left there.
His expression shutters, and slowly he brushes a finger over my collarbone.
The touch is feather soft and leaves me craving more.
Sighing, he lowers his hand, but offers me his arm instead, leading us through the hallway. “How are you feeling?”
I could lie and tell him I’m fine, that I can barely feel my injuries, but this feels important for me to be honest with him on this.
“Sore,” I admit, pulling an apologetic expression.
He sighs again, the sound heavy and full of regret. “I am so sorry for how my mother behaved. The ball was too much for her. She must have been triggered by something last night and managed to slip past her guards…”
This is exactly what I didn’t want and it’s raising emotions inside me that I am not capable of dealing with today.
How do I respond? I don’t want to tell him that I am fine with what happened as that would be a lie.
It was terrifying, I thought I was going to die.
Slowly, I have been learning to let my guard down since I came here, and this is what happens.
No, instead of lying, I will just keep quiet.
Lifting my head I smile at him apologetically, and I think he understands, squeezing my arm in comfort.
Arm in arm, we walk the rest of the way in companionable silence until we reach the double door that leads to the king’s study.
The closer we get, the heavier the atmosphere between us seems to get.
I can feel my shoulders tightening up with each step, knowing that behind those doors is the King.
“Kiara, before you go in there-” Amir cuts himself off, his voice tense.
Frowning at the change in his voice, I stop and turn to face him. Why does he look so uncomfortable all of a sudden, and why is he acting as though whatever happens next is important?
“Dancing with you last night was magical.” He closes the space between us and cups my cheek with his hand, his touch gentle.
Am I dreaming this? I feel like I have woken up in a dream, only I know it’s not from the throbbing pain in my throat.
Listing my eyes to meet his, I gasp at the intensity that he’s watching me with.
“I am sorry that the night ended like it did. Really, I wanted it to end like this-”
He leans in and presses his lips to mine.
This time I don’t gasp in surprise or hesitate; I return his kiss with as much passion as he shows me.
I am highly aware that we are kissing outside his father’s office and anyone could walk by at any moment, so I don’t deepen it as I wish to.
Instead, our kiss is sweet and holds a silent promise.
As soft as a butterflies kiss, he steps away, my body swaying forward, his pull magnetic. Slowly, my eyes open and the warmth of his gaze is like the rays of the morning sun.
“I will speak with you later, Lady Kiara.” Lifting my hand, he kisses the back of it, and with a reluctant smile, he walks away.
Watching him leave, my heart makes this strange flip in my chest and I force myself to stay rooted on the spot, otherwise I fear I shall run after him.
When did I become one of those women? Girls who swoon when a handsome man walks past and become brainless at the mere sight of a member from the opposite sex.
Feeling flustered, I take a deep breath to settle the rush of strange new emotions.
Prince Amir sure has bad timing. He could have kissed me at any other point, but instead he chose to do it right before I go into his father’s office.
Whatever the King wants, I need to be clearheaded, and he would know something was up for sure if I was anything other than focused.
Listing all of the reasons I have for being here, I feel myself begin to settle, engaged and ready to face whatever the King has planned for me.
His voice instantly calls through the door as I knock, so I walk straight in.
Gaze locked on me as I make my way to my usual spot in front of his desk, the King is silent, brooding almost.
Not letting him see my fear, I clutch my hands behind my back to hide their quivering and lift my head high. I watch as his eyes narrow, zooming in on the bruises to my neck and scratches on my face.
That’s it. Take in the damage your wife caused me. He promised me safety for compliance, and he failed to deliver.
“Your highness.”
My greeting breaks the tension in the room, and slowly, he pushes up from his desk and walks around to sit on the edge, facing me.
This is the most casual I have ever seen him act, and that makes me nervous.
Why has he changed? My eyes flick around the room and I realise we are completely alone; there is not a single guard or advisor present.
“I apologise for the injuries my wife caused you.”