Chapter 39 #2
I swallow. I was expecting an answer involving “my wife to be” or the “future queen”—something that said what mattered was Threnn insulting something that belonged to him or injuring his pride.
“Annon.”
The urgency of his tone makes me forget my resolution not to meet his gaze. It kindles, the gold brighter than usual—an alluring treasure trove.
“He threatened you, and I know he managed to get you alone and that must have been frightening. But know this. If he had so much as touched you, I would’ve flayed each finger that dared to encroach upon you, even if it had only touched a hair upon your head, and I’d have made him sew it into a purse.
And then I’d have made him offer his tongue to you wrapped in that. ”
The room spins. I could blame the dance that turns and turns again and again.
But it isn’t the dance.
I see him on the tower roof, and I see him here and now. And all I can think about is that it feels like…
He chose me.
I swallow, mouth utterly dry. “That’s quite the picture you paint.”
“I mean every stroke of the brush.”
Long seconds open up where only our steps and his eyes exist.
“Can I ask about something else?”
The corner of his mouth quirks, threatening his cheek with the shadow of a dimple. “Suddenly my wife-to-be is afraid to ask a question.”
“It’s one I asked before and you didn’t like it.”
His half smile dissipates.
I’ve overstepped. He’s going to shut down again. I should’ve left it.
“You may ask.”
“What is the thing you cared for that was taken from you?”
His chest rises and falls. It seems to take eons, like he’s gathering strength. “A long time ago, there was someone I loved. A seelie woman.”
“From the surface?”
His eyes sink shut. “Please. No questions or I won’t be able to get through this.”
“Sorry,” I whisper, and squeeze his shoulder in a silent invitation to continue without further interruption.
“She was… unlike anyone else I knew down here. Our love burned fast and bright. It had been a long time since I’d needed to worry about getting anyone pregnant and I’d grown careless with prevention. I’m sure you’re aware fae don’t reproduce easily.”
I nod. Books have noted that despite their long lives, fae have few children.
The hypothesis being their fertility levels are lower than those of humans.
That hypothesis also explains the plethora of tales—both fictional and factual—where fae take human lovers or charm and steal human brides. Drystan’s just confirmed it.
Perhaps that’s why The Morrigan bargained with my father. Somehow the Lady of Fate failed to foresee that I’d be such a sickly daughter.
“I assumed she took the same contraceptive unseelie women do,” Drystan goes on.
“While she assumed I took the same one as seelie men. I do now, but not back then. Pregnancy is so rare among our kind, our misunderstanding shouldn’t have mattered, but by some miracle we conceived.
We planned for her to join me here, where we’d marry, but… ”
My throat clenches. His expression changes little, but there’s a well of pain in his eyes. Mine sting in response. To lose someone you love and the promise of a child in one fell swoop. I can’t imagine having the potential of that life, never mind it being taken away.
“Well, clearly she isn’t here. I’m sure you can work out why.” He gives a half-hearted smile that turns bitter. “My mother dripped information into the wrong ear—someone with their own motives—someone who ensured the way would be clear for her choice.”
Me.
Oh gods. No wonder he hates me.
Hated.
Because despite what he’s just told me, it isn’t hate he’s looking at me with. And it isn’t hate that made him kill Threnn.
But his own mother? She pulled the threads of fate to get his lover killed. That explains his warnings about family. I thought it was just his brothers, but this?
I shake my head, trying to convey a silent apology.
His thumb skims over my knuckles in acknowledgment. “When her soul passed through the Underworld, we had a chance to say our goodbyes.”
I hold his shoulder a little tighter, bringing our bodies closer, hoping he feels some comfort.
“She was a star in the darkness of my life.” He blinks as though returning from that great distance of years and for a moment it feels like he sees me—only me, all of me, stripping back the gown, the makeup, the blood and flesh, until my soul is bare.
“So, you see why I can’t allow that to happen again.
Even if the sun itself threatens to shatter the dark horizon. ”
Step, step, turn. Step, step, turn. My heart beats out the steps, the moments—the only accompaniment to our full silence.
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t—”
“I know. And I know I’m not meant to say that word around here, but it’s a lifetime’s habit. Besides, I am sorry for what you lost. It’s not something I’d wish on my worst enemy.”
“Am I your worst enemy, then?” His eyes gleam with a playful light.
“I don’t exactly have many enemies, but for a while you were top of that short list.”
“I suppose that’s fair.”
At this short distance, our chests bump whenever I’m slow to follow his lead. Or at least, my chest bumps into the area just above his stomach.
He shifts the grip on my waist, pulling us flush.
Somehow that makes it easier—my thigh flows with his, our steps merge together, we move as one.
I’m not sure if the song ends and another starts or if the musicians just keep playing the same tune because their king is dancing and they don’t dare interrupt.
I also don’t care.
I don’t want this to end. In his arms, I feel graceful. Something precious that’s on display but protected.
That’s the thing I felt on the rooftop with him, covered in blood, with a lifeless body at my feet.
Safe.
Death couldn’t come for me there and it can’t come for me here because its king has me.
His eyebrows clench together as he searches my gaze. “Annon?”
“I should share a secret with you now, shouldn’t I? That’s how your court works, isn’t it? Fair exchange.”
“I didn’t tell you all that to get a secret out of you.”
“I know. I’m choosing to repay the debt all the same. I already told you about my illness that has no diagnosis and no cure.”
He nods slowly as if unsure where this is going.
“That doesn’t stop me hoping for one. For years, I’ve researched symptoms and medicine, searching for answers.
I wrote it all down. I thought if I just read enough books, I would find out what was wrong with me and there would be a cure, printed in black and white.
” I shrug and smile. “But I never found one.”
“So much has been taken from you and yet…” He shakes his head. “You’re still so warm. So bright.” His fingers splay across my back, bracing me more tightly against him.
And in this moment, with the way he’s holding me, the way he’s looking at me, I can believe—truly believe—the King of Death feels something for me.
For a second, I think the world has stopped, but it turns out it’s just our dance. I blink and look around. We’re a point of stillness in the dizzying chaos of his court.
But I want more than stillness. I want him to myself. My king. My Death. Mine.
One thing I can enjoy before I go back. If the Underworld is responsible for my improved condition, I need to make the most of it.
A comforting excuse for what I really want.
A curtain wafts near by, and I realize it’s the same one Phaedra-as-Drystan lured me behind earlier.
I tug on his fingers, then slip from them and, without dropping his gaze, back into the alcove.