Chapter Six #2
“Nothing is just a title,” Rhael mused as he took up the seat opposite me. Taking up most of the space.
He sat just like he had in the throne room. Legs spread wide, hunched forward, with his forearms resting on his knees. The smell of sandalwood mixed in with the musk of the books, filling my nose.
“More rules,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as I tucked my legs closer to my body.
“I am serious,” Rhael said as his tone shifted. More serious. “Magnus Varg is volatile. I will need you to perform your role well.”
Something inside of me stilled as a wave of what almost sounded like concern, filled his words.
It flickered there, faint but unmistakable.
The sunlight caught his eyes, and for a heartbeat they lost their hard edge.
He looked human, almost boyish, like someone who was about to admit he had nightmares or was scared of the dark.
If he had carried on looking like that I may have believed him.
“How?” I asked quietly, forcing my muscles to relax.
It went against every instinct I had, to trust the Fae King, the man who owned me, who tested me in ways no other master ever had.
However, sitting like this, I could almost see the Fae Prince who I had grown up hearing stories of.
Not the cold King, but the warrior who would laugh and join in festivities.
The man who had incited chaos almost as much as I had.
Deep in the back of my mind I wondered, what had happened to make him so cold and if somewhere inside of him that wild streak still remained.
“Restraint,” Rhael answered. “You will ride with me, remain within arm’s reach. I do not want you speaking unless spoken to and you are not to contradict me with that smart mouth of yours.” He continued, the warmth vanishing as the ice returned to his gaze.
Nope. That prince definitely seemed to have died.
“Ok,” I sighed, knowing that this time there was no room for sarcasm. He had me trapped, and there was no way out. The best I could do was find a way to survive this.
After all, he had promised my freedom if I did well. If I survived.
“There will be expectations, when a King takes a companion there is an implication of intimacy. Some level of attraction,” he continued and I felt my stomach roll into a sour knot of anger and disgust.
“You expect me to-,” I began, curling my lip in disgust, but his hand raised, stopping me from finishing my sentence. However, it did not stop the thoughts from running through my mind like a freight train.
Did he truly expect me to have an attraction to him? Was he attracted to me? I hoped not, I had been bought for many things, lust being one of them, but attraction was unfamiliar territory and I was not prepared to feel that. Not from him.
“No, our arrangement is political. But it must appear convincing,” he explained and I felt relief wash over me like a tidal wave.
Pretend. I could do that.
“So, we act like we are attracted to one another?” the words left my mouth before I could stop them.
“Yes. I will need to touch you. Hold you at times, but I need to know you can manage that, without becoming attached,” he said, the last words coming out of his mouth as a sneer. As if attachment was a curse he avoided. It did not surprise me.
“I am not a lovesick child. Just because you are King does not mean your touch will make me desire you. I would rather marry a troll or ogre,” I said, snapping at him slightly.
My irritation threatened to become an uncontrolled rage.
The idea that I wouldn’t be able to refuse him, just because he was a King and I was a human.
“Which is why I believe you will not disappoint me. Be at the stables tomorrow. Do not be late,” he said, pressing his hands to his knees, as he rose in one fluid motion. Shadows gathered faintly at his heels as he walked towards the hidden door.
“Yes, Sire.” I mocked, lacing the word with all the disdain that I could not speak openly.
“Oh, and Elara,” Rhael began, his eyes darkening as he turned back to me from the threshold.
“Yes?” I exhaled, expecting another sarcastic or anger igniting comment.
“Do not come here again, this library was my brother's. I would like to keep it untouched.” He whispered, his hand lingering around the door handle.
The words drifted between us, softer than any he had spoken to me since my arrival. Grief threaded through them, loud and unguarded, for just a moment. Reminding me once again that this cold King did, in fact, own a soul.
For a fleeting second, his shoulders lowered. Then the armour returned, his spine straightened and the mask slid back into place, as he left without another word.
The door clicked shut behind him and silence returned to the library thick and heavy. Rhael had told me not to come back, yet he did not make me leave immediately. He had given me time, some sort of grace.
The feeling settled strangely in my chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome as I finally moved, easing the sting of the wood in my back. Closing my eyes once more, I allowed myself a moment to relax against the soft seat of the alcove.
Sunlight flickered across my face in a fading light, as the clouds drifted across the stained glass. Tomorrow I would ride into the territory of wolves who did not want me there. Next to a King who wanted to use me, parade me.
I could not decide which I found more dangerous. The wolves waiting within the forests, or the man who had just walked away.