Chapter 16
Sixteen
A good brownie is never difficult.
I’d swear off sex for her. - Arienna
“Fabia!” Jumping to my feet, I launch myself at her. I expect her to try to shove me away like she always does, but her arms hang loosely at her sides. Grabbing her shoulders, I hold her at arm’s length. My own needs fade away under the paleness of her features. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “But you have to marry –” She swallows hard, her pulse hammering in her neck.
I frown. “There’s blood on you…” My grip tightens as my eyes scan her body. “Did he hurt you? Are you in pain? I’ll tell him off. I’ll –”
“No.” She pulls me into a hug. “I’m okay. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me?”
Pulling me down onto the seat, she holds me in her arms. My stomach twists in concern. My pulse starts to beat rapidly again as I wait for her to speak. This is so unlike her. If Richard hurt her…
“The wedding has been moved up to now,” she tells me. “Nicholas is standing outside. As soon as we’ve spoken, we will head to the hall.”
“But I don’t even know if I want to get married! I need to talk to you about –”
She grabs my shoulders, gripping them hard. “You don’t have a choice, Arienna. You have to marry him.”
“Because of the peace thing, right? But I was think–”
“No.” She shakes me, shutting me up. “Because he’ll kill you if you don’t. And I’ve seen… He’ll do it, Arienna, and I can’t… You can’t let him…”
This is the first time I’ve ever seen her cry.
Shocked, I can only stare in silence.
Then I’m pulling her into my arms and holding her close.
As she sobs against me, fury lights up my insides. I am going to tell him off. I am so mad at him for hurting her. I want to… I want to… I want to scream.
When the door to the suite bangs open and Nicholas strides in, I snap, “We’re not ready. You can tell my king he can bloody well wait.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it again. After a few seconds, he asks, “For how long?”
“Until Fabia stops crying.”
“How long will that take?”
I narrow my eyes at him, for once not caring that I’m being a bad brownie. His brother hurt my best friend. He is related to the bastard. Snarling, I answer, “However long it flippin’ takes.”
Turning my attention back to my bestie, I comfort her as best as I can. She might’ve told me to get married, but I’d rather die than be with anyone who’s upset her.
Even if that means being hanged by my own intestines.