Chapter 23 Rhea #2
“Right,” I breathe out, twisting my hands together in my lap.
The king had demanded that, before we could return to the castle at Vitour, I needed to be worthy of my status as his soon-to-be queen.
Apparently, that involves taking actual lessons until he finds that to be true.
I had snarled, reminding him that I would never be his, and to my surprise, he had only smirked as his eyes dragged down my body slowly.
But I could do this—I could pretend to be enough of what he wants in the hopes that he lets his guard down.
The sooner we return to Vitour, the sooner I will be reunited with Nox.
Gods, I miss him. I can’t even imagine what he is doing now.
How he is handling… everything. I suppose that isn’t totally true.
Nox had once told me he would drown the world in shadows if it meant I was safer.
Despite what he’s said, I know that he cares for his people.
For those innocently caught between his wants and desires and the expectations thrust upon him by his title and the council.
I do not doubt Nox would choose me over them, that he will come for me as soon as possible, but I hope that it will not come at the cost of anyone else.
Or that the damage caused when he leaves won’t be irreparable.
I shiver from the note of dread that settles in my stomach just as Eve finishes my hair.
“All done.” She pats my shoulders gently, drawing my gaze up to hers in the reflection of the vanity mirror.
She doesn’t look much older than I am, and the urge to ask her about herself dangles on the tip of my tongue.
But then I think of the crescent scar on her palm.
Of the way the king so ruthlessly handled her.
As if sensing my hesitation, she steps back and clears her throat.
“I will be meeting with you later today for a tea lesson. Before that, you’ll meet with Mia who will instruct you in dancing. ”
A sigh leaves me as I stand and thank her, though it morphs into a pained groan when my hip begins to throb.
How long has it been since he branded me?
A week? Nearly two? Time has bled from one day to the next, each one spent with me trying to tap into a part of myself that feels foreign.
I suppose every part of me does now with the presence of another’s magic suffocating my own.
My heart pounds in my chest as we exit my room, each beat reverberating in my skull like an ominous drum.
I could do this. I have to do this. And if I lose myself a little along the way, then I could do that too.
“What news is there from my advisors?” King Dolian asks from my left, his question directed to Simon who occupies a seat across the table in front of me. Thankfully, there have been no follow up nightmares involving him.
“Nothing of note. There was a small skirmish in the city center, but it was dealt with quickly by our guards.”
“What over?”
“A few of the shop owners refused to pay their taxes. Apparently, they are unhappy with the newest increase.”
With my stomach already leaden being near the king, I lazily push the food on my plate around, my interest piqued by Simon’s words.
“They think running a safe kingdom is something that can be done on will alone. Their coin goes directly back to them, ensuring no one enters our borders without our knowing,” King Dolian sneers, his chair creaking as he adjusts his position in it.
A short huff leaves me, hidden by the sound of my fork scraping along my plate.
I don’t have to understand politics and the intricacies of running a safe kingdom to know that he spews nothing but falsities.
Nox had infiltrated his kingdom—his godsdamn castle and the tower attached to it—without issue.
I highly doubt he is the only one capable of doing such a thing.
“They also worry about the Cruel Death.”
King Dolian’s fingers drum on the table. “What is the total number of deaths this week?”
Simon takes a drink from his chalice before answering. “Twelve. All men under the age of twenty-four.”
A few seconds of silence pass, and I glance the king’s way to find him already looking at me, lines bracketing his mouth.
“Send out a missive immediately to every province. Able men twenty-five and under are being enlisted. We don’t have time to wait for those who volunteer.
We need our numbers robust for what may lie ahead. ”
My grip tightens on my fork. It hadn’t been twelve deaths in the kingdom but twelve in his precious army.
The Cruel Death had always been something I felt far removed from, living as I did in the tower.
Without frequent updates from Alexi and then Nox, I wouldn’t have given it much thought.
And recently, I’m ashamed to admit I hadn’t thought about it at all.
Still, the image of Tienne’s emaciated body flashes in my mind, sending a chill down my back.
“Word has also come from the Mage Kingdom.” Stupidly, I eagerly look to Simon. He smirks, as if acknowledging to us both that I was too obvious in my interest.
“And?” the king drawls.
“It’s quite interesting. Princess Bahira has returned from her stint over in the Shifter Kingdom.”
I glance over to King Dolian then. Though he feigns nonchalance, I’ve studied his face up close for years.
I don’t miss the way his eyebrow twitches or how his jaw hardens at the news.
In contrast, I draw in what feels like a deeper breath than I’ve taken since I woke up here.
Nox having Bahira will be good, as he and his sister are close.
I hadn’t gotten the chance to really know her yet, but Bahira didn’t strike me as someone who would tolerate the council’s interrogations and controlling tactics towards Nox.
She would make sure he was careful and taken care of.
“Did she come home alone?”
“It appears that way,” Simon answers, taking another drink before he looks back at me. “Care to share what you know about it?”
I arch a brow, sitting up straighter. “I don’t know anything.”
He grins—though it barely constitutes one. “There is also news of Prince Nox. Rumors state that he’s sick, apparently in some sort of deep sleep that he can’t be woken from.”
What? I’m careful to let the thought stay inside, despite how my hand falls limply to the table, fork forgotten.
“The mage council is quite worried over him, as are the king and queen. It appears they are blaming the loss of your stolen bride as the reason for the downturn in the prince’s health.”
“We can only hope it continues to decline,” the king mutters under his breath.
It happens so quickly—the way my anger moves from a spark to an inferno, consuming me as I glare at him.
It burns through rationality, and like a caged animal, I snap my jaws at my jailor.
“Fiancée,” I say, enunciating the word slowly to ensure he feels the power I put behind it.
I hope it strikes him down to his very marrow, a poisoned arrow aimed directly at his heart.
“Not a stolen bride, not someone he had to shackle in order to keep her at his side, but someone who chose him. Who still does. Who always wi—”
“Enough!” Simon shouts as King Dolian stands, his hand already reaching out to grip on to my arm.
I’m yanked to my feet, my chair toppling over as I’m shoved into the edge of the table, the sharp corner hitting me in the exact wrong spot.
I cry out in pain as electrifying heat flares over my hip, sending a tingling sensation of pure agony out in all directions from the brand.
Dishes slide out of the way, my glass toppling over and spilling water onto the white tablecloth.
“Leave us,” King Dolian commands.
Simon complies, and within a few seconds, I’m left alone with my uncle.
One of King Dolian’s hands grips the side of my hip while the other drags down my back, the tug at my scalp indicating he’s fingering through my hair.
“Let me go,” I growl, attempting to push myself back.
He responds by pressing his hips closer to me, driving me farther into the table. His hand travels towards my backside, where he squeezes the flesh, an unintelligible sound vibrating from him. My body tenses as my eyes widen, blood rushing past my ears as my throat tightens.
“How many times do we need to have this conversation, my darling?” he sneers as his body drapes over mine, suffocating me.
“How many fucking times do you need to be reminded, Rhea? You were never his. Even as you had your little dalliance, you always belonged to me. Every fucking part of you.” His hips push harder, and white flares behind my eyes as I cry out at the feel of him.
He’s always invaded my personal space but not so intimately. Not like this.
Desperate, I reach out for the fork on my plate, squirming despite the way he’s caged me in. But he simply commands me to stop moving, and with the swell of magic that pours over my mind, my body obeys. “Can’t you see how lucky you are? You now have a king where before you only had a prince.”
I can’t draw in a deep enough breath, air trapped somewhere between my throat and my lungs as his fingers tighten on me.
“St—” The word is cut off by a break in my voice as a clap rings in the air, followed by a stinging sensation over my backside.
Stunned, I slam my eyes closed and reach for anything to pull me out of this moment.
Any crevice in my mind that I can get lost in until I no longer feel the king above me or the table beneath me.
I slip through those cracks in my shield and settle into the darkness waiting for me.
“Your Majesty, Lady Mia is ready for Lady Rhea’s dance lessons.” Xander’s voice slices through my mind, throwing me right back into the present as King Dolian shifts his weight. I open my eyes and find the king’s commander’s gaze focused on King Dolian above me, his mouth set in a grim line.
“Of course,” King Dolian says, peeling away from me.
My hands grip the edge of the table, and I quickly push myself up, a wave of dizziness threatening to topple me.
“Make yourself presentable, darling, and then the commander will escort you to your first lesson of the day. I will see you for dinner.” He leans in, causing me to flinch, but all he does is place a kiss against my temple, lingering for a few seconds before drawing away.
His footsteps echo out, and I stare down at the disturbed plates and my knocked-over glass, my mind slow to reconcile what just happened. He had just—
“Lady Rhea, are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I say, forcing the words out as I straighten myself and run my shaking hands down the front of my dress.
No clothing had been removed. I hadn’t been…
violated like that. I repeat it again, avoiding the guard’s stare as he leads us out of the dining room and down the hall.
I’m fine. We continue down a new corridor, a door left open to a room with wood floors and walls lined with mirrors.
Xander stops in front of it, his hands clasped behind his back as he introduces me to the dance instructor, an older woman named Mia who smiles warmly and beckons me into the room.
“I’ll be right outside,” Xander says, his gaze lingering as I walk past him.
I’m fine.
Mia immediately leaps into proper instruction for the types of royal dances, congratulating me on my engagement to the king.
We start off with something that I think is meant to be easy for a beginner, but all of her instruction is lost to the same two words that repeat over and over again in my head:
I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.