Chapter 25 – Raelyn
Chapter Twenty-Five
RAELYN
My rear end is incredibly sore after all the riding we’ve been doing, and my inner thighs are screaming for relief.
I’m so nervous about what’s going to happen next.
We show up at court, and then what? Will I have time to bathe or rest?
I shudder to think about meeting the king in my current state.
It’s been quite a while since I’ve been in his presence.
This is certainly not how I would have chosen to get reacquainted.
The palace gates are finally in sight, and we thunder toward them. I still can’t believe I’m actually married. So much has changed in only a few hours, and I’m struggling to figure out what it all means. My new taste for blood, the most pressing of all.
I recall my first taste that night the intruder came in, when I shook it off as a weird occurrence.
Now that I’ve tasted blood again—twice within hours of each other—I fear there might truly be something wrong with me.
When I pulled the splinter out of Kian’s hand, it took all my willpower not to draw it to my mouth and suck.
Drinking blood is not something humans do except for the rare ritual, but does this mean what I think it does?
I shake my head. I’m utterly exhausted and grasping for straws at this point.
The guards at the gate wave Kian through without trouble, and before I know it, he’s helping me dismount near the stables.
I peer up at him through the hooded cloak, grateful for the protection from the sun. Two days in a row of clear skies must be a record. “So what now? Please tell me I can take a nap.” I give him a wan smile.
“Well, considering your stepmother has probably discovered your disappearance by now, we want to make sure we get to the king first.”
I frown as I look down at myself. “Surely you will allow me to clean up before then.”
Kian laughs. “Of course, love. My father is probably still asleep, as early as it is. Do you have something to change into?”
My shoulders sag, and I tug at my small satchel. “Does it look like I have court apparel hidden in here?”
“Fair point,” he agrees.
“Not to mention, my sisters ransacked my closet and stole all my gowns the moment Stepmother relegated me to service.”
“That’s incredibly shitty,” he says. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we can find something for you to wear. I just need to sneak you into my wing for now until we can meet the king.”
The palace appears to be waking up as we make our way inside. Maids and footmen scurry about, and the wafting scents of bread and meat fill my nose, causing my stomach to rumble.
“I’ll have breakfast brought up to us as soon as we get settled.”
“Thank you, Kian.”
He’s not what I expected. With all the rumors floating about court of his partying and womanizing, his care toward me is a surprise.
But then, perhaps his amenable nature is precisely why he is adored by the women of court.
Is this how he treats his nightly conquests?
I try to shove the feelings deep down before I find myself drowning in them.
I just need to keep reminding myself that this isn’t real.
When Kian finally escorts me into his wing, my eyes widen as I take in the main living space.
The midnight blue and ebony fabrics mixed with walnut wood seem to fit him perfectly.
While everything is clean, there’s organized clutter on tables and shelves.
The room looks lived in. I gaze longingly at the oversized settee by the fire.
How I’d love to curl up and take a much-needed nap.
“Would you like to bathe?” Kian asks, startling me from my perusal.
“That would actually be quite lovely,” I admit.
Kian rings for his valet, and I take a seat, waiting to be told what to do. I feel so out of place in the palace, everything foreign compared to home.
Within minutes, Kian leads me to his private bathing chamber, the giant tub already filled with piping hot water, a luxury I haven’t had in what feels like forever.
“Um, I’ve asked for clothing to be brought for you, but for now, I’ll leave this robe for after your bath,” Kian says. He seems almost shy, which is so unlike the prince I’ve barely begun to get to know.
“Thank you. This is perfect.” And intimate . . . and stirring up all kinds of confusing feelings . . .
“Well”—he clears his throat—“I guess I’ll leave you to it. Shout if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
“Of course.” His gaze lingers, and I need him to stop looking at me that way.
I wrack my brain for something, anything to distract me, when a thought pops into my head.
“Kian?”
“Yes?”
“I had a lady’s maid at the manor who was dismissed a little over a month ago when Stepmother took over . . .”
Kian nods for me to continue.
“Is there any chance I might be able to employ her here?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He smiles. “Just give me her name, and I’ll see if we can find her.”
I feel a little guilty that I’m not sure where she lives—so used to her being at my beck and call in the manor, I hadn’t ever considered where she’s from. I’m a terrible friend.
“Thank you so much. Her name is Sera Elsterbrock.”
Once Kian leaves, I strip off my filthy clothes and sink into the bath.
It’s so luxurious to be allowed this simple pleasure after days of working morning til night with hardly a break.
While this isn’t necessarily how I envisioned my life, it’s better than the prospect of serving my family for the remainder of it.
I’m also starting to doubt Father would have even been able to put a stop to it with Stepmother holding the scandal of my parentage over our heads.
After scrubbing every inch of skin and washing my hair thoroughly, I stand and reach for a towel to dry off. Kian’s soaps and oils worked wonders on my rough hands, and I look at them in awe, my mind snagging on a thought, but my exhaustion seems unwilling to allow me to go there.
I towel off and try to ring as much water out of my hair as possible before I put on the black, oversized robe Kian left me. Glancing in the fogged-up mirror, I catch sight of my reflection. Wiping the mirror with the sleeve of my robe, I lean in closer, holding back a gasp.
My cheek looks completely normal, no bruising or swelling in sight, and most surprising of all, tiny flecks of gold that I never noticed before surround the green of my eyes.
Is this an effect of the marriage bond? I glance down at my right wrist, and the faintest shimmer of the ribbon glimmers up at me.
I’ll have to ask Kian to show me the palace’s library. There are some things I desperately want to research . . .
I’m startled by a soft knock on the door.
“Rae? Are you all right in there?” Kian’s voice sounds muffled.
“Quite all right. I’ll be right out,” I call back.
When I make my way back to the main sitting area, Kian is seated at a table piled high with breakfast delicacies.
“Gods, this smells amazing,” I say with a happy sigh.
Kian looks up and almost does a double take at me in his robe. His eyes appear to darken as they peruse my form, causing me to shiver at the intensity.
“I have to say, I enjoy seeing you in my clothes,” he says.
The forwardness brings a blush to my cheeks, and I hurry to sit so I can hide behind the mountain of food on the table. Kian clears his throat and sits back in his chair, his eyes seeking mine. I’m captured by him—I couldn’t look away if I tried.
“Rae, there is something we need to discuss before we meet my father.”
A rush of trepidation chills me. “Oh?”
“I apologize for not doing so sooner, but time slipped away from me.”
I nod as I serve myself a helping of bacon and eggs. Kian holds out a basket full of croissants, and my eyes widen. “Those are my favorite.”
Kian nods. “I remember.”
I blink, confused by the statement. I don’t recall telling him that, but perhaps I’ve forgotten.
I take a bite of the flaky pastry and close my eyes, savoring the taste. “Mm-hmm . . . this is amazing . . .” Opening my eyes back up, I meet his gaze again. “Well, what did you have to say? Spit it out. Stop keeping me in suspense and distracting me with pastries, as much as I love them.”
He grins but looks a little pained. “We need to convince the king that we are madly in love.”
“Excuse me?”
“My father will be furious that I eloped without his permission . . . so I need to give him a reason. The simplest solution is to convince him that we are so madly in love, we couldn’t help ourselves.”
My jaw drops, and I stammer, “But . . . that’s not at all what we agreed upon. You said this marriage was on paper only. If we have to convince him that we’re in love . . .”
Kian winces. “Yes, I’m sorry . . . If we’d had more time to court and get permission from your father and had a proper wedding, that would have definitely been the case, but the elopement has changed things.”
“You didn’t think to mention this before we eloped?” My voice has climbed to a higher register, and I hate the shrillness of my tone.
Kian shrugs. “It doesn’t really change things. We just need to pretend a little.”
“Pretend?”
“Give each other loving glances, perhaps little public displays of affection . . . nothing too over the top.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “I’m a terrible liar, Kian. I don’t know that I can do this.”
“We’ll be fine,” Kian says, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s only when we’re out in public or with my father. Most of the time, you won’t need to worry about it.”
I take a deep breath, considering all that he just shared. It makes sense, but I also have the feeling it’s just going to complicate everything between us, even more so than it already is.
“Okay, fine. I’ll try . . .”
Kian sighs in relief. “Great. I’ll admit, I was quite worried about bringing this up to you.”
“As you should have been,” I admonish.
“Would it have changed anything?” he asks, looking almost penitent. “If I’d told you before our vows, would you have said no?”
I pause to consider. “Probably not, no . . . I needed to get out. If pretending to love you is the worst thing I have to do, I suppose I consider that fairly lucky.”
“I’m sorry.” Kian groans. “I didn’t mean to screw up our marriage before it’s even truly begun.”
I reach across the table and place my hand on his, giving it a light squeeze. “It’ll be all right. Don’t beat yourself up.”
His smile looks part grateful and part relieved. “Eat up, Rae. You’re going to need your strength to face the king.”
I shudder. “He is quite intimidating.”
“I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” I threaten, but my voice is light.
After we devour the food, a maid shows up with an armful of dresses for me to choose from. Where they came from, I’m almost afraid to ask. If Kian has a secret room stashed with dresses for his conquests, I’ll die of embarrassment.
Having a maid fuss over me and fix my hair is incredible.
I missed being taken care of, but even the thought just makes me feel spoiled.
I vow to treat people better. Having been forced to look after myself has given me a sense of responsibility that feels good.
I can take care of myself if I need to, but I also appreciate that the servants who work for us deserve to earn a living wage for their work.
Feeling refreshed and prepared to face the king—as much as I can be—I pace the prince’s sitting room, waiting for him to finish getting ready. I worry that if I sit still for too long, I’ll nod off from exhaustion.
Kian finally enters the room, looking completely put together in his tailored pants and matching grey waistcoat. Damn, he really is good-looking. I can’t believe he’s my husband.
He throws me a smile and offers his arm. “Ready?”
Kian leads me down the long hall. Portraits of his family line the walls, ranging back generations before him. Old-fashioned suits of armor stand guard in the alcoves. The halls are so quiet, I feel like I have to whisper, so I do. “Where are we meeting him?”
Kian looks at me oddly and speaks at a normal volume. “He’s in the throne room. Today is the day he listens to petitions from our people. I’m hoping to catch him before he starts.”
A fresh wave of nerves crashes over me. Gods, I sure hope this goes better than I’m anticipating.
As we get nearer to the throne room, Kian pulls me a little closer, leaning his head down to whisper in my ear, “Smile, love. We need to sell that we’ve never been happier.”
I really hope I can do this.
“Just take a deep breath. We have the bond seared into our skin. He couldn’t stop this if he tried.”
Except he can. Death is the only thing that can end a marriage bond, and while the king might not be willing to kill his own son, he has no such loyalty to me.