Chapter 22
I was going to strangle Fenn.
If I didn’t know him, I would have assumed he was blind. That he was incapable of reading the emotions of the people around him.
Unfortunately, I did know him. And he was doing this intentionally. He delighted in setting fires and watching as the world burned around him.
Throughout our introduction to the court, I kept my gaze either fixed on the floor or demurely aimed at King Tyrone. I never let myself glance toward his brother, as much as I felt Callan’s eyes searing into me.
And Fenn was doing a spectacular job stoking my ire. By the time we were escorted from the throne room, my fists were shaking with rage.
I held my tongue as a servant showed us to our rooms. Fenn tried to convince the attendants that we would share a room, but they informed us they were under specific instruction to prepare separate quarters. It was also painfully clear the servants would be punished if we did not comply, judging by their pale faces and stammered responses. One young woman seemed on the verge of tears.
Fenn and I exchanged uncertain glances. Our quarters were on opposite ends of the hall. Although I should have been relieved to have so much space between us, a darker part of me presumed Tyrone had done this on purpose.
My insides twisted at the thought .
I was shown my room first, the Golden Room. Every inch of it spoke of its namesake. Gold tapestries, plush gold pillows, a gold and umber rug running from the doors to the open windows that boasted the dark purple rays of the sun’s descent.
I’d stayed in this room once, long before Tyrone and I had begun our courtship. I was grateful I hadn’t been placed in the Magenta Room—that one held some of my darkest nightmares, and I had no desire to ever return to it. Small mercies, I supposed.
I ran my fingers over the delicate gold embroidery of the comforter on my bed. My eyes took in the grand armoire against the wall and the oval mirror atop the vanity on the opposite end. Wide, frightened eyes met my own in the reflection.
I was unrecognizable. Not the firebird Fenn claimed me to be, but a scared, trembling creature that I did not know. This place turned me into a weak prey, simply waiting to be hunted and devoured.
I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. I refused to be cowed.
A knock sounded at my door, and I whirled, my heart racing, my breath catching in my throat. Terror seized my heart in the tightest of clutches, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing…
“Aurelia?”
Fenn opened the door and poked his head in, his curious green eyes surveying the room with interest. He chuckled. “This is much nicer than mine. I fear they may have accidentally placed me in the servants’ quarters.”
A sharp breath whooshed through me, and only then did I realize I hadn’t been breathing. I sucked in huge gulps full of air, practically gasping. Suddenly dizzy, I grabbed the mahogany frame of my four poster bed, struggling to catch my breath.
“Aurelia?” Fenn said again, stepping fully into the room and shutting the door behind him. I couldn’t even muster the strength to don my court mask in front of him. I’d been keeping up the ruse for so long, pouring all of my strength into maintaining my cold and confident persona, that I had nothing left.
A warm hand pressed into mine, and I jerked back, taking several steps away from Fenn. He raised his palms placatingly .
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “You look unwell. Should we depart tonight? We do not have to stay here.”
“Yes, we do.” My voice was clipped. “It would be the greatest offense for us to leave without making an appearance at the ball.”
“To hell with appearances,” Fenn snapped. “You are paler than death. I’d wager that showing up and spewing your dinner all over their guests would be a greater offense.”
“Oh shut up,” I groaned, rubbing my temples. “You’ve already put us in too great a mess. I don’t know why I even bother.”
“Excuse me?”
I let my hands fall against my thighs. “Your behavior in that throne room was appalling .”
“No, my behavior was precisely what everyone expected of me.”
I let out a dry laugh. “So it never occurred to you that perhaps you should defy those expectations? No, it’s far better to just drag me down to your level, isn’t it?”
“You’re being daft again, Aurelia,” Fenn said, his voice low and lethal. “Perhaps I am not simply behaving as a foolish and spoiled prince. Perhaps there is another reason behind my behavior.”
“Another reason besides your own sense of morbid amusement?” I grumbled.
Fenn was in front of me in a flash, towering over me, his eyes flashing dangerously. I stared up at him, daring him to come closer. If he touched me, I wouldn’t hesitate to ram my knee right between his legs.
“Our ruse isn’t foolproof, princess, ” he practically spat. “It has plenty of holes. And we needed a fool to take the blame for that. So I played that part for you. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“I am not —” I said hotly.
“Furthermore,” he went on, talking over my interruption. “That king was looking at you like you were a piece of meat he was going to bite into. And I wanted to remind him that you do not belong to him; you belong to me.”
My face flushed. “I don’t?—”
“And lastly,” he said, and with each word, his voice did not rise, but it became softer and somehow more dangerous. “My behavior was to remind you that you despise me. That you hate me. That your anger can be more powerful than your fear. Because you were like a stunned gazelle standing before a ravenous lion in that throne room, Aurelia. And I was not going to stand by and watch you wither away.”
My breath caught in my throat, and my head reared back in surprise. My lips parted as I stared at him, too startled to even muster a reply.
He had done those things… for me? He had noticed how Tyrone’s very presence seemed to elicit a reaction from me?
Of course he had. Fenn was no fool. He was shrewd, and he noticed far more than I liked.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? I would wager Fenn wanted some kind of explanation, but I wasn’t about to give it to him.
“It isn’t hard to guess what happened here.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, a breath against my face. “You don’t have to tell me. But I know he mistreated you. And it’s taking all of my restraint not to track him down and slice off his balls with my dagger. So I am telling you again, to hell with appearances. You don’t owe anyone anything, Aurelia. Not me. Not him. If you wish to leave, simply say the word and I will take you from here.”
My breaths came hard and fast, and I couldn’t seem to get enough air into my body. My skin felt hot and cold all at once. A thick lump formed in my throat, making it hard to swallow or speak. I moistened my lips, but that didn’t help. Fenn’s eyes darted to my mouth and back up again as if tracking the movement of my tongue.
I felt I should be thanking him. Or shouting at him. I wasn’t sure what to feel in this moment. All I knew was his chest was mere inches from mine, his face hovering in front of me, so close I could taste the breath on his lips.
And yet he didn’t touch me. His body was angled carefully so it lined up with mine but left space between us. I could feel the warmth emanating from his chest, but we were still not touching. As if he knew I could not be touched right now. As if he knew it would shatter me completely.
He knew. I hadn’t told him a thing, but he still somehow knew. He read me in ways my own mother could not. My parents, my sister—they never had a clue what had happened here .
But Fenn, the prince of an enemy kingdom, the most infuriating man I’d ever met, had somehow figured it out.
As much as I loathed to admit it, he was my ally right now. The only person I could rely on.
I exhaled, long and slow. I would need to face this truth eventually. The time for running was over. I was here, and the past had finally caught up to me.
“Tyrone wanted more than I could give him,” I whispered. “At first, he respected the boundaries I put in place. But as our courtship continued, he grew more impatient. He began to pressure me, and I feared our arrangement would dissolve if I could not satisfy him, so…” I paused and swallowed, trying not to dwell on that night. “So I obliged.”
Fenn’s nostrils flared, his eyes burning with rage, but he said nothing, allowing me to continue.
“It was… Well, it was fine. Nothing spectacular, but it wasn’t terrible. I thought it would satisfy him, but he only wanted more. I gave as much as I could, often making up excuses as to why I could not stay in his chambers or why I had to return to my court before sunset.” I took a shuddering breath. “And then his brother Callan returned from the war.”
Fenn blinked, confusion creeping into his expression. I felt only a sliver of satisfaction at catching him off guard. Clearly, he hadn’t anticipated everything.
“Callan was charming and patient and sweet. Everything Tyrone was not. I found myself drawn to him. Yearning for him.” My eyes closed, and a tear tracked down my cheek. “It was wrong. But I wanted to feel something. I felt nothing for Tyrone. And I longed for just one ounce of passion. Just once.
“We told ourselves it would stop. But it didn’t. And when Tyrone caught us, he—he?—”
“You don’t have to continue,” Fenn said quietly.
“I do,” I insisted. “This needs to be spoken, or it will fester inside of me until it eats away at my soul. Tyrone took me to his bed. I let him. I did not fight him. He was brutal and violent. He broke me. He destroyed me. I gave myself to him willingly, but he still butchered my soul, carving it from me with such force that I was nothing but an empty shell when he was finished with me. And still… I did not fight him.” More tears streamed down my face, and I choked on my next words. “I… did not… fight him.”
“Aurelia.” There was a plea in Fenn’s voice. I had never heard him sound so strained, so devastated. “You did not ask for this to happen to you. Just because you did not physically fight him doesn’t make the act any more vile. You were violated. He took from you what you were unwilling to give.”
I shook my head, unable to say more. Instead, I succumbed to the tears, allowing them to flow freely.
Fenn shifted, his hand rising and pausing an inch away from my face, as if he intended to touch my cheek but stopped halfway. Even in this moment, he still knew I didn’t want to be touched.
The thought only brought more tears. I could not stop them. A dam had burst, and I had no strength left to repair it, to put these memories and emotions back into place.
“We will leave,” Fenn murmured. “I will put a healthy portion of iron-laced poison in his tea and we will sneak out into the night before anyone notices we are gone.”
I snorted in spite of the situation, then wiped my nose. Gods, my face was a sopping mess. “I don’t want to leave.” When Fenn frowned at me, I said, “I want to put myself back together, one jagged piece at a time. I want to leave this place with my dignity restored and my soul rebuilt. If I have to depart from here a broken mess once more, I won’t be able to survive it.” I looked Fenn in the eye, finding my resolve. “I want to put this behind me, Fenn. I want to emerge stronger than I was before. And the only way to do that is to get through this ball, to show him that I am not some weak thing he disposed of, but a powerful creature to be feared.”
Fenn’s mouth curled into a satisfied half-smile. “There’s my firebird.” His eyes warmed as he leaned into me, still not touching, but close enough that if I shifted, my nose would brush his. “I am at your complete disposal tonight, my lady. Just say the word and I will obey.”
I found myself smiling in return. “All I need from you is to continue playing your part. Be the handsome rogue who fears nothing and no one.”
His grin turned feral. “It would be my pleasure.”