Chapter 40 – Raelyn
Chapter Forty
RAELYN
Kian stiffens at my lack of response, and I gently push him off me. He looks over his shoulder and groans. “Father, what are you doing out here so bright and early?”
The king raises a brow. “What do you think you’re doing out here in broad daylight where anyone could see?”
Kian laughs darkly. “She’s my wife. I can do with her what I like.”
I fight the urge to snap at him for that comment, reminding myself it’s surely an act for the king’s benefit.
The king frowns. “I’m not sure if this is just part of whatever ploy you have going on, but either way, I thought I raised you better than that. Do whatever you like to her in your rooms, Kian. Keep it out of sight.”
Kian wilts at his father’s harsh tone.
I attempt to discreetly fix my dress and hair as the king speaks, mortified at my actions despite the fact that I was caught kissing my husband and not some random stable boy.
“You are expected to act with the decorum befitting your role as prince. You have responsibilities to our land, and dallying like this only makes you look like a spoiled child. You have been a waste of space and resources long enough, and I’m tired of putting up with your bullshit.
Yes, you may have finally settled down, but it appears your behavior has not changed.
I’ve heard talk of you and Alex coming and going from the palace all hours of the night.
Back to partying again so soon after your marriage? I am so disappointed in you.”
The king’s words are clearly meant to hurt, and they hit their mark with precision. Kian curls in on himself as each barbed insult digs deeper.
“Perhaps I should send you away from court for a time. Don’t think you’re off the hook for your lies and deception, but lucky for your wife, our people seem to approve of your choice. You two can go work on some heirs in case your brother’s unborn child dies like the last three.”
I try to hold back a gasp at that revelation. I always wondered why no royal heirs had been announced over the last decade. I had no idea. My heart instantly breaks for Princess Juliana and the pain she must have gone through losing children.
“Father, please don’t be so crass,” Kian begs.
“If you can’t behave like a prince, it’s not beyond me to strip away your title,” the king threatens, completely ignoring his request.
As Kian tries to placate his father, my mind drifts away, still muddled from the breath-stealing kiss we shared. But suddenly, it feels wrong. It feels forced. Did he know his father was coming? Did he kiss me to try to prove a point?
Rationally, I know Kian hasn’t been at parties, and I should be glad the king isn’t suspicious of his actual activities, but a tiny part of me worries that it’s not the entire truth.
I want to trust that he won’t dally where people can see him—he promised to be discreet.
It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been pining after my own husband all these weeks, wondering why he hasn’t been spending time with me.
I can’t even comprehend what the king and Kian are saying at this point. I need a moment to think, to breathe.
I’m struggling not to think the worst as I push off the wall and murmur, “Please excuse me,” to the king, dropping into a quick curtsy before running off, praying to the gods I didn’t just commit an unforgivable sin by leaving without being dismissed.
I race into the palace, but I’m not sure where to run. Our rooms aren’t safe—Kian will find me there—so I keep running and running, not knowing where I can possibly go in this large palace I have yet to fully explore.
“Raelyn!” a voice calls out, and I stop short. I’m not sure if I should be happy to see Dylan again or worried that we’ve bumped into each other twice in the same day. “Are you all right?”
I nod frantically, trying to calm my racing heart. “I just need a quiet place to be alone, and I still don’t know the palace well,” I try to explain.
Dylan nods. “Follow me. I can help.”
Unsure of what else to do, I decide to go with him, even though something within me tells me it’s a terrible idea.
Dylan leads me up a few flights of stairs and down some unfamiliar corridors before bringing me to a secluded sitting room that looks like it hasn’t been used in quite some time.
Sheets are draped over furniture, and the curtains are drawn.
It’s almost shocking to have found a room in the palace that’s been neglected by servants; every other room I’ve passed during my stay here has always been immaculately dusted and ready for guests at a moment’s notice.
“What is this place?” I ask, blinking when Dylan pulls the curtains open and dust motes become visible in the beams of light.
“It’s a guest wing that hasn’t been used in quite some time,” Dylan says matter-of-factly.
“I can tell.” I sniff before letting out a sneeze as the dust tickles my nose.
“Galyna bless you,” Dylan offers, and I give him a weak smile.
“I’m not sure if this is quite what I had in mind.”
“You look parched. Can I get you something to drink?”
“From where?” I laugh awkwardly.
“I like to come up here to get away from people, so I keep a stash,” he explains as he rummages around, producing two relatively clean glass tumblers and pouring an amethyst-looking liquid into them.
I give the tumblers a suspicious glance but accept the one he hands me. “How long has this been up here?” I question.
“Oh, not long,” he says reassuringly. “It’s harmless. Just grape juice. I left the liquor out, as it’s not very thirst-quenching.”
I sniff at it cautiously and don’t smell any alcohol, so I take a sip. The sweet juice has an oddly bitter aftertaste that’s familiar, but I am rather thirsty, so I drink it down.
It’s quiet up here. The usual bustle of servants and people moving around is absent, and all of a sudden, I’m acutely aware of the fact that I’m alone in a secluded part of the palace with a man I do not know well.
After setting the glass down, I wring my hands as I walk around the room.
Dylan pulls a sheet off a small settee and drapes it over another piece of furniture. He sits down and pats the spot next to him.
“Have a seat, Raelyn. I insist.”
I glance around the room and shake my head. “I’m quite fine standing, thank you.”
Dylan gives me an annoyed look. “I’m perfectly harmless. Please come and sit. I’d love to get to know you better.” He holds his glass casually but doesn’t drink from it, which sets off warning bells.
“To be honest, I’m not comfortable being up here alone with you,” I say, hoping he’ll be respectful and listen.
Dylan scoffs, “What, did our prince say something about me?”
I frown and shake my head. “Should he have?”
“Of course not,” Dylan retorts.
I start to back away toward the door. Coming here was a mistake.
“Where do you think you’re going, Raelyn?” Dylan tsks. “I can’t let you leave just yet.”
“What in Luna’s name are you talking about?” I ask as I continue backing toward the door.
Dylan stands and stalks forward, grabbing my arm roughly and dragging me farther into the room. “I said you can’t leave just yet.”
“Stop! You’re hurting me,” I cry out.
Dylan blows out a breath and continues dragging me toward the settee, setting me down with force. “Now, will you stay put or do I need to restrain you?”
Fear skitters down my spine. What in Luna’s name is happening? If I call out, will anyone hear?
Stepmother swoops into the room, looking completely smug and self-satisfied.
“You . . .” My jaw drops, but somehow, I’m not really shocked. If anything, I’m surprised she didn’t show her face sooner. “If you wanted to call, you could have done so like a normal person,” I spit out.
If she had a mustache, she’d be twirling it, ever the villainous persona oozing out of her in the most cliche of ways.
“Raelyn, darling.” Her voice drips with sugary sweetness that makes me want to vomit. “I would have been rotting in a grave before you ever deemed to meet with me.”
She’s not wrong.
Trying to gain the upper hand, I sit a little taller, looking down my nose at her. “Well, you’re here now. What do you want?”
“Thank you for arranging this, Dylan,” Stepmother says dismissively. “You can go now.”
Dylan appears tense as he looks between us. “Are you su—”
“Leave us!” Stepmother demands as she sits on the edge of the chair across from me.
Dylan gives us a final look before disappearing out the door. One would think I’d feel a little safer with him out of the room, but the way Stepmother is looking at me has me wondering which one of them I really ought to be afraid of.
“Who is he to you?” I ask, wondering if she’ll answer any of my questions or just deflect the way my father did.
Stepmother raises a delicate brow as she pats at her immaculately coiffed hair. “Truly none of your concern, dear.”
I blow out a breath and glare at her. She’s in my home, and I’m no longer beholden to her.
As if reading my thoughts, her smile turns wicked. “You’ve made quite the mess of things, Raelyn. You really ought to have done what you were told from the start.”
“You’ll have to be clearer. I’ve done quite a few things recently.”
She purses her lips before saying, “I’m trying to figure out what to do with you. You were never supposed to find out.”
I tilt my head. “Find out what?”
“Oh, don’t play coy with me, Raelyn. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I know all about your godly heritage. Once I discovered your father’s secret, it was easy enough to draw the rest out of him. His shame makes him oh-so-easy to control.”
I try not to wince. My father’s love had never been a question until I discovered all the lies . . . and still, it hurts to think it was all an act to protect his reputation.
Rolling my shoulders back, I feign confidence. “Why do you care? I’m no longer your concern. You have no control over me anymore.”
I spot the subtle flinch before she smoothes her features. “You see, if I were to tell the king about your—let’s call it breeding—he very well could take it one of two ways.”
“Yes, I’m fully aware of that.” I sigh.
“My bet is he will make sure you produce a godly heir before disposing of you.” Stepmother sneers.
I shudder. “Kian would never allow that.”
“Wouldn’t he?” she says, her voice sickly-sweet again. “We both know your marriage is nothing more than a farce. There is no love between you.”
While I know she’s telling the truth, it doesn’t stop the hurt from aching in my chest.
“What do you want, Stepmother?” I spit out, my loathing for her growing with every moment that passes.
“What any stepmother wants.” She smiles sinisterly. “A place at court near my darling stepdaughter.”
“Never going to happen,” I bite back.
“Well, the choice is yours, dear. You either make a place for us, or I inform the king of who you really are.”
“And if I accept that risk?”
She leans forward in her seat, her eyes boring into mine. “You’ll find, Raelyn, I get what I want without fail. If you refuse me, there are always other ways.”
My brows furrow. What could she possibly be up to?
“Dylan!” she calls out, and he appears in the doorway. “My darling stepdaughter needs a little more incentive.”
A pit of dread forms in my stomach, and a wave of weakness rushes through me. What is happening to me? My limbs are heavy, and my eyelids start to droop.
I shoot an accusatory glare at Dylan. “What did you give me?”
He throws me an almost apologetic look before he picks me up off the settee, cradling me in his arms. It feels wrong, repulsive, but I can barely lift my head.
Stepmother struts over, pulling at my hair and clothes.
“Please, stop,” I manage to get out.
She looks up at Dylan. “Make it look good and do what you will with her. I’ll make sure someone sees to back up my story.”
“What?” I ask, trying desperately to call on my strength, but it’s as if everything within me has gone dormant. The buzz of energy I felt in my veins is gone, like I lost access to that part of me.
“And if she tells the prince?” Dylan asks as he carries me out into the hall and down the corridor.
Stepmother laughs. “She won’t remember a thing.”
No . . . no . . . this can’t be happening. I want to scream, but I can’t open my mouth. I want to claw at the man carrying me, but I can barely lift a finger.
Dylan kicks open the door to a bedroom and drops me onto the bed callously.
I lie frozen, my heart beating sluggishly in my chest, and I keep blinking, trying to force myself to stay awake.
The sound of curtains being drawn grinds against my ears, and tears leak down my face.
Hells. What is he going to do to me in this vulnerable state?
Why did I go with him against my better judgment? I’m such a fool.
Dylan returns to the bed and leans over me, rolling up his shirtsleeves, a look of malice on his face.
“What did I . . . ever do to you?” I rasp out with difficulty.
Dylan only smirks as he slowly hikes up my skirts, looking greedily at the length of my legs.
I’m going to be sick. This can’t be happening.
“What did you do to me? Where to even start?” Dylan bites out.
I squeeze my eyes shut. This isn’t happening.
A grunt and a thud have me forcing my eyes back open, and I look in shock as Dylan falls to the floor, but I can’t see who . . .
My world turns black.