Chapter Ninety-Three Rhea
The irony I feel at having magic that I can’t control still isn’t lost on me.
Day after day, I feel its presence as I heal thousands of the king’s army, yet I can’t use it to help myself or those around me.
Where its warmth had once felt like a comfort, now it slips through my fingers, taking a little more of myself with it as it does.
Both Xander and Eve still try to help, the former still encouraging me to not give up hope while the latter spends her evenings in my company, despite the fact that I’m hardly present.
So little of myself remains in this flesh and bone body.
It is easier for me to pretend I’m not a monster if I let my mind wander, if I let myself feel nothing over my surroundings.
But, despite my desire to be numb, Xander and Eve keep trying to break through to me, even though my existence only makes their lives harder.
So one night after Eve leaves another one-sided conversation with me, I gather enough of myself to try and form a plan.
One that will benefit her now and hopefully Xander in the future.
One that will solidify the knowledge within me that this version of Rhea Maxwell is one that only a monster could love.
And so, here I sit facing King Dolian, tea set between us and his hazel eyes locked on my own. “I must admit, I’m not sure what to make of this,” he says, arms resting on the table.
I put my tea cup back down on the saucer, the noise it makes ringing out loudly in the small room. Despite Eve’s tutelage, I haven’t quite mastered the grace one is expected to have while consuming the beverage. “There is nothing to make of it. I simply asked to have tea with you.”
His brow arches, and he leans in closer, the gold thread on his vest catching the sunlight.
“And that is why I find this so hard to believe, my darling. Not once in our many weeks together have you ever initiated contact with me.” His smile is razor thin, and it jabs between my ribs and straight to my broken heart.
“Don’t mistake my curiosity for disappointment.
It is always a pleasure to see the sun shining down on your beautiful face. ”
I force myself to smile. “It seems time has done what you hoped it might.”
King Dolian tilts his head as doubt etches itself over his brow. “And what is it that you think I hoped for?”
“For me to bend to your will,” I answer, keeping my lips upturned. “For a pliant fiancée.”
He chuckles before taking a drink, his tongue darting out to lick his lips after. “Pliant. Is that what you think I want? Better yet, is that truly what you think I’ll believe?”
I knew he would never presume I’ve suddenly had a change of heart, but I also know that despite the king’s bravado and the way he presents himself to the world, his ego has been damaged by the fact that I still love Nox.
That I have never uttered those three words to him.
I decide to use that to my advantage, sacrificing whatever remains of myself in the process.
“I know you have heard about the mage prince becoming king and getting engaged.”
He traces his finger slowly over the rim of his cup. “You see now that I was right about his intentions with you. His supposed devotion.”
I give a rueful nod. “Yes.”
“So, what? You come to me now that you can’t have him?”
His defensiveness surprises me, but then again, everything between us has always been a game to him.
This act is nothing more than getting what he wants from me—total submission.
The admission that he was right and I was woefully wrong.
“I come to you now in understanding,” I lie, grateful for my voice coming out steady.
For the fact that I can hide within layers of myself even if I can still acutely feel his gaze moving over me like malicious strokes of a paint brush. “I come as your future queen.”
He laughs, leaning back in his chair as his fingers drag over his lips. “Clever woman.” His amusement quickly shifts into something darker—something cruel. “Tell me you no longer love him.”
The lie I spew next is one of the worst I’ve ever told, and it rots me from within. “I don’t love him.”
“Ah, ah, darling,” he says, pushing his chair back to stand before rounding the small table. I push my chair out as well, but he orders me to stay put, instead spinning the chair around so that I’m facing him with his fingers gripping the armrests. “Let’s see if you speak the truth.”
“I am—”
“Do you still love Prince Nox?”
My fear spikes as the magic forces me to give the answer both the king and I know to be true between gasps. “Ye-yes.”
I brace for his anger and the physical punishment it will dole out on my body.
But it never comes. Instead, the king lifts a hand and cups the side of my face, his eyes blazing with something between lust and possession.
“I understand now,” he whispers, leaning in until I can feel the scratch of his beard at my cheek.
I close my eyes, every sense overwhelmed by his proximity. “You want to forget him.”
My heart thunders in my chest, shame a dizzying wave that leaves my palms clammy and stomach churning. “Yes. I want to forget.”
“I can help.” His mouth is warm at my neck, and though my shredded resolve protests at the touch, at the wrongness of it, I arch my neck to give him better access.
He growls in approval, his teeth scraping and tongue lashing while I imagine myself in a pool of darkness, water surrounding me on all sides until I’m submerged.
His voice sounds distant when he speaks next.
“Do you know that they didn’t fight me when I told them I wanted you back?
Their council had written to me, telling me they intercepted my letter to the king, but that they would be willing to negotiate.
Though I’m sure my threat of using my army against their small border towns likely helped with that.
I told them it would all go away if they just returned what was taken from me.
And they didn’t fight it. The king’s council agreed to hand you over as if you were as insignificant to them as their prince is to me. ”
My eyes open, one single word making it through my numbed fog. Council. The council had been in contact with King Dolian? “How…” I trail off, unsure of what to even ask.
“How did they know it was you? How did they agree to give in to another king’s demands?
” I feel him shrug against me, a hand trailing down my arm.
“I told them to return the woman with golden hair and green eyes. The one who arrived with a male named Flynn. Apparently, those details alone were enough to identify you. And, as you have seen, my army has no match. Spell in place or not, healed guards or not, we are a formidable force compared to those who are losing their magic. Even as we lose some to the Cruel Death.”
I nearly ask how he knows about the dwindling magic in the Mage Kingdom, but of course he knows. He has a spy there, after all.
“So, you see, that is why they don’t answer my summons now.
That is why no one has come for you. They recognize the truth in what I’ve always told you, Rhea.
You belong here, with me. You always have, and you always will.
” King Dolian leans back just enough so I can see his face, his lips swollen from his assault at my neck. “Do you finally see it now?”
There is no magic behind the question, so I only nod. When lust overtakes the distrust in his gaze, I know I’ve done what I needed to. His face hovers over mine, but before he can crash his lips down on my own, I say, “There is one favor I would like to ask of you.”
He tangles a hand in my hair, gripping the strands tightly enough that my eyes water. “I am not a man of favors, Rhea.”
“I know,” I respond quickly, wincing when he tugs my head back. “But this is small and easily within your power as my king to do.”
He lets out a slow exhale, drawing so near to me that I can smell his cologne, the scent stinging my nostrils. “Humor me, then, darling.”
“Eve,” I whisper, licking my lips and sinking back down into myself when his gaze tracks the movement. “I would like for you to let her return home to her family for a short time.”
“Eve,” he repeats, eyes bouncing between mine. “You don’t want her here for the wedding?”
“She misses her family, and there are plenty of other servants available to help me.” It is a small thing, but Eve deserves time with her family after being forced away from them for so long.
Even if only for a week or two, it surely wouldn’t be enough to disrupt the daily happenings at the castle.
But beyond that, I simply want the opportunity to do one good thing while I can.
Before the chance is taken from me fully.
“She has worked hard, and deserves the time off.”
Just one good thing.
My next inhale is stopped short when King Dolian’s lips invade mine, and I feel myself drowning as I press my fingers into his shoulders.
I usher in an icy numbness to combat the knowledge of his tongue pressing at the seam of my mouth, of the way his hands roam over my body.
Deeper and deeper I sink until I’m chilled to the bone, the last embers of the fire within me plunged into darkness.
I don’t know how much time passes, only that, when he’s done, he agrees to give Eve the time off. Helping me stand, he kisses my cheek before sauntering out of the room, passing Xander as he does.
“Make sure she heals at least half a battalion today. We’ve had a bit of a late start.”
Xander nods, his eyes going to me as soon as the king is out of sight. “Rhea—”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s not the godsdamn truth, and you know it.” My eyes shut as he blocks the doorway, keeping me trapped in this room. “I’m going to keep asking every single day until you say yes. Let me take you to meet the resistance. We’re so close to finalizing a plan to get you out, Rhea. To freeing you.”
I pry my eyes open again, exhaustion a lingering companion.
“Don’t you realize how dangerous that is?
That if the king at all suspected you, suspected me of having anything to do with you, he could simply command that I tell him?
You want your whole operation put at risk like that?
” His stare is hard, that cold exterior he prefers unwavering.
And I just… I don’t have it in me to argue anymore.
“Perhaps it’s time that you come to accept what I have. There is nothing to be done.”
His head jerks back in shock, but I don’t wait for him to respond before I’m pushing past him. When I’m done healing the men of the guard, it’s Brisk and not Xander who returns me to my room, my steps wobbling to the point that I have to lean against the wall for most of the walk back.
Changed and unable to sleep, my thumb prods at the pearl on my ring finger, spinning it around my finger over and over again. Time is lost as I think of nothing, of no one, until knocks on my door pull me from the bed.
“Lady Nele, it’s Brisk,” the guard shouts through the door when I don’t immediately answer. Upon hearing his voice, I put on a robe and open the door. His brow is creased with worry, his lips drawn down at the corners.
“What is it?”
“King Dolian has demanded that you be brought to his rooms.”
Two of the king’s Trusted are waiting outside his chambers when Brisk and I arrive, and the larger of the two glares down at me as he opens the door and gestures for me to enter.
The scent of the king’s cologne coats the room, and I lay a hand over my stomach as if that will stop the nausea from churning up my throat.
When I’m a few steps past the door, it shuts behind me, and I’m plunged fully into the king’s private space alone.
My eyes pass over the bookshelves that line the walls and the armchairs gathered around a table as the room flashes bright, lightning from a storm rolling in shining in through a large window to my right.
I startle at the thunder that follows, my breaths quickening at the anxiousness that roils through me.
The day I had been forced to kill Sterling and his wife, the king had said he was done waiting to have me in his bed.
I had been so ravaged by the guilt that coated me as thickly as my victims’ blood that I hadn’t given his words a second thought.
But being here now, I wonder if he’s finally making good on the threat.
It’s between the flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder that I hear a whimper.
Straining my ears, I listen for it again, another muffled sound traveling down the hall that feeds into this room.
My breath catches in my throat at the unmistakably female sound, and it draws me forward and down the hall lit by flame gems, bringing me to an open doorway where the foot of a bed comes into view.
The wooden footboard is carved with a swirling pattern, the shiny red fabric of the bed sheets bunching towards the bed’s center. I force myself to move closer, just as a male grunt echoes out. The next step I take brings the rest of the bed into view, and my lips part at the sight before me.
The king stands with his back to me, his deep blue shirt untucked.
The ends of his belt slap against his thighs as he moves rhythmically in an undeniable motion, his hands gripping the upper arms of a woman.
She’s completely bare, her hair unbound and draped over her back and shoulders, shielding her face from view.
Heat rises up my neck, and I cover my mouth to stop the horrified sound that threatens to slip out when my eyes catch the clothing dotting the floor.
A gray dress lays in a perfect pile, as if its owner slipped it down her body and simply stepped out of it.
Next to it is a white apron, its straps tangled, and a pair of black flats.
“You are mine,” King Dolian growls, releasing one of the woman’s arms to fist the strands of her blonde hair, tugging roughly until her neck is arched at an uncomfortable angle.
“You have always been mine.” He thrusts his hips forward harshly, and the woman cries out, her hands trying—and failing—to find some sort of leverage.
“Yes, My King,” she says, and it’s the broken tone of her voice that propels me the rest of the way forward, my hands already held out in front of me.
“Stop!” My shriek startles the king, but his glazed eyes hold mine as his fingers tighten their hold on the maid.
“Darling,” he drawls, his cheeks flushed.
“What perfect timing.” A deep groan from him threatens to make me collapse where I stand, but I force myself to stay focused, my mind scrambling to find something to say that will get him to stop.
He yanks the maid’s hair until she’s forced to turn her head, my gaze clashing with hers.
Time halts, suspending between us with shock as I stare into her soft blue eyes.
“Eve?” I whisper.