12. Of feasts and unexpected kisses #4
When my father had no other heirs, some of the more particular council members found it in them to overlook my illegitimacy in the name of legacy.
Once my half-brother was born out of a miserable, court-sanctioned union, though, I was as good as a plague bearer to all of them.
But then I entered military service and worked my way through the…
challenges that initially came with it, and I spent my days surrounded by people who didn’t care about who I was or where I’d come from.
Now, the sickening feeling I hadn’t felt in so many years had hooked itself into the pit of my stomach, the one that screamed, you don’t belong here, you’ll never belong, no one will ever accept you.
My eyes were burning, and I still had a devastating distance back to my room.
To only further compound the utter shittiest of that, the door creaked open again from the throne room, and footsteps echoed out behind me. I was of half a mind to take my chances at a sprint to avoid whoever had emerged, but the call out of my name had me halting.
Maksym.
I would’ve preferred going toe to toe with one of his Elixia.
He jogged after me with a few lengthy strides, and when he took in my face, his disappointment was plain.
His amber eyes were frighteningly vivid in the dim hall as he studied me and shook his head.
He reached up and brushed his thumb over my cheek, sweeping away dampness as a frown pulled at his mouth.
“They are not worth your tears, Miss Wynn. Not a single one.”
I huffed a wet, sarcastic laugh. “Aren’t they your most trusted?”
“They are,” he sighed. “But that does not mean they are infallible or correct in their judgments. And I owe you immense apologies for their behavior. I’d thought I’d have a better handle on things, but clearly, I didn’t. Regardless, they will have respect for you. I will see to it.”
“It’s fine.” I waved him off and went to step away, but Maksym clasped me on the shoulder, anchoring me in place.
“It’s not fine,” he said. “It’s not fine at all.”
The king could make any effort he wanted—I was tired and a little drunk, and did not want to be having this conversation.
Max’s mouth opened and closed before he made a quiet, conflicted noise and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, retrieving a small vial full of milky liquid. With it poised between his lithe gray fingers, he extended it to me.
“Take this,” he said. “They’ll come for you for your initiation around the tenth evening bell tomorrow night. Drink this a good half hour before.”
I blinked at the vial before I glared at him. “Why? Do you want me to cheat?”
Maksym’s mouth twisted. “Not cheat, no. But I do not want to see you go through unnecessary cruelty. At best, the initiation will make you incredibly sick. At worst, it will torture your mind. I do not wish to see you go through either.”
Maksym could put whatever veil of false interest and care he wanted over the top of that, but I could see through to the meaning of his words—he wasn’t confident I could handle this initiation.
“Keep it,” I said. “I can handle myself.”
The king shook his head. “It’s not a matter of not handling yourself, Enora. It’s a matter of—”
Noise spilled out into the hallway behind us as the throne room door opened again. It slammed shut just as fast, and heavy footsteps echoed off the stone.
“My liege?” came a rough, masculine rumble.
Maksym glanced back over his shoulder in a discreet movement before he whispered, “Shit.”
The footsteps were coming quickly, and Maksym thrust the vial at me again. “Take it, please.”
I backed up, hitting the wall as I hissed back, “No.”
Maksym bared his teeth at me in the most displeased snarl I’d ever seen, and maybe that was why he caught me so off guard.
In one fluid sweep, the dark fae king cupped my jaw, tipped my head back, and kissed me.
Instinct had me planting my hands on his chest, ready to shove, but he took advantage of my startled gasp.
When his tongue grazed mine, I melted like the touch-hungry fool I was.
My fingers curled into his jacket, spurring him closer, and an appreciative noise rumbled from Maksym’s chest. He crowded me against the wall, and it was a damned good thing he did, because the coaxing work of his mouth had my knees untrustworthy.
“My liege?” came that voice again, extremely close. “Are you—oh.”
Maksym eased away from me, but I almost went after him.
My skin was flushed, my chest heaving, and I wasn’t ready for whatever in the hell had just happened to end. In the dim light, Maksym’s amber eyes blazed, and a smug look settled on his face.
“Sleep well, Miss Wynn,” he said far too simply before turning to the Elixia member standing a few feet away with his attention fixed on the roof. “Apologies. I couldn’t let her leave without saying good night.”
I didn’t stick around to hear any more of their conversation.
My pounding heart carried me back up to my room on hasty feet, and it wasn’t until I pressed my back to the door and slid to the ground that I realized Maksym had slipped the vial into the pocket of my skirt.