Verena #2
"You're imposing and silent and carry a giant axe everywhere you go. I know how to be charming. If Ida is going to be besties with one of us, it's going to be me," I point out. "Okay, Merrick. There are a few things I'll need to get started."
I rattle off a long list of fabric colors, threads, needles, paper, pencils, and other things.
He inclines his head. "I'll have everything delivered to your chambers tomorrow."
After adding that he's off to conduct a much more thorough inspection of the castle's affairs, Merrick wishes me a good evening and excuses himself.
Just as he's sweeping out of the double doors of the candlelit throne room, a manservant enters. He seems nervous and accidentally looks at my unveiled face.
His gaze widens, drinking me in for a full five seconds before he bows nearly in half, holding up several envelopes and swallowing nervously.
"Y-Your Majesty, I've brought your latest correspondence. P-please forgive my staring, but your face and figure are just so striking that I could not help myself and—"
The Huntsman strides across the throne room to snatch the letters away. The protective snarl in his tone makes me jolt.
"Get out."
The manservant flees immediately, the doors shutting with a dull bang behind him. Wulf returns to my side, gently lifting my bruised hand to place four envelopes in my palm.
The brush of his warm, calloused fingers against mine sends an unexpected shiver down my arm.
The faintest scent of blackberries and mint wafts from his rebandaged arm, and my mouth waters against my will. I can't stop my gaze from flicking back to the mark on his neck.
Wulf notices. Suddenly, I'm trapped in his arctic gaze—and either I'm losing my fucking mind, or he looks kind of…hopeful.
"Do you thirst again?" he murmurs.
Absolutely, I do.
In fact, I'm thirsty in more ways than one. My throat burns, and it takes effort to look away from his lips.
I swivel away quickly, feigning nonchalance—but really, I'm just trying to get away from the taunting scent of that bandage.
"Nope. Not at all. I'm peachy," I say brightly, breaking a dark green seal on one of the envelopes.
"Were you this much of a liar in your world? Or is that a new development to go with Reinhilde's voracious appetite?" Eris snarks as I walk toward him.
I snort at that, but I'm quickly distracted when a few small sprigs of rosemary fall out of the envelope I've opened, along with a note.
I pick up the note and study the few small, tidy markings in the center of it. I flip it to face the mirror.
"Do you mind?"
"It says, Your lost songbird will not keep me from you much longer. I…” Eris trails off, a soft look of irritation passing over his immaculate face.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Nothing. That's all it says."
"You want me to believe it ends with a cryptic I? Come on, just finish reading it."
"I have."
Since he's being weird about it, I turn and hold the paper up to Wulf. He shakes his head.
"We're just two illiterate peas in a pod, huh?" I sigh.
"Most are, but I only read Hjemic."
That must be the language of the northerners. And I guess it makes sense that writing and reading aren't taught much, if writing really fades in this world as quickly as Eris said it does.
Whatever. I'll just figure out what's on this note after Eris teaches me to read, before I move on to the thick-ass books in Rhinestone's secret diary room.
Come to think of it…I wonder how Eris learned to read, stuck in the mirror realm.
Tucking away the small note and the rosemary, I open the next two long letters at the same time, since they're sealed with the same shimmering golden wax seal.
When I hold them up to Eris, he doesn't even have to read them before making a face.
"Ah, right. Reinhilde's ongoing correspondence with an anonymous nobleman in Aurefeld. She was plotting with him to find a way to meet and seduce their spare prince in the hopes of adding him to her Favored. She longed to know what a prince's blood tastes like."
I make a face and break open the fourth letter. "Okay, I'm just going to burn those. What about this last one?"
He skims it quickly before scowling. "It's an official invitation from the royal court of Hamelnmark, but the chamberlain who wrote this is annoyingly insistent that you must visit at once."
Sooner or later, I'm going to track down a map.
"How far is Hamelnmark?"
"Four days upon a swift horse, with favorable weather," Wulf supplies. "Longer by carriage."
"Not that you should bother, now or ever.
" Eris folds his arms, glaring at the letter as if it's personally insulted him.
"There can be nothing in existence so urgent for them to use this tone in a letter to you.
It's as if they are trying to call a dog with a whistle instead of summoning a fucking queen from her kingdom.
Audacious bastards. Burn this one, too."
Fine by me.
Holding the letters from Aurefeld and Hamelnmark up to a lit candelabra, I drop them when they turn to ash. Then I lower my veil and leave the throne room.
Darkness has officially started to fall outside the tall, arched windows of Isenmere Castle as I make my way back to the queen's chambers. Wulf follows silently until I almost head up the wrong flight of stairs.
"We go left here."
"Of course, we do. These staircases all look the same. I miss GPS," I lament, turning left and ascending the correct staircase.
"GPS?" he repeats, keeping pace easily with me thanks to his long-ass legs.
Soon, we're at the doors to the queen's chambers. I'm already yawning, eager to get to sleep where it will be easier to ignore the persistent panging in my empty stomach.
"Uh-huh. It's a magical thing in my world for people like me who are too lazy to develop a sense of direction. Anyway, I appreciate you escorting me all the way here, but you can skedaddle back to whatever guest room you picked to get some sleep."
Wulf doesn't bat an eye. "My things are stashed in a nearby room, but I will sleep here."
I'm about to push through the door, but I turn slowly back to face him. I fling the veil back.
"Sleep here? As in, crash in Rhinestone's room, with me? I don't think so."
He nods toward the still-damaged door. "You have no lock."
"And whose fault is that?" I point out, propping a hand on one hip.
His eyes track the movement before he pushes the doors open to the queen's chambers. He nods at a space on the rug-covered floor.
"I will sleep there. Guarding the door."
The thought of this hunk sleeping anywhere near me makes my stomach do a mini loop-de-loop.
But there's also a fresh wave of discomfort as, yet again, I remember the pure hatred on his face in the faerie's prison.
Even if he was being that brutal and vengeful on behalf of the needlessly slaughtered northerners, I can't forget how terrifying it was to be on this guy's bad side, even by mistake.
What if, in the middle of the night, he decides he regrets making a pledge to me and just snaps my neck to get out of this whole self-imposed lifetime of devotion thing?
Or worse—what if I can't stop smelling traces of his blood like I am right now, and I wake up biting his neck?
Whatever is written all over my face, the Huntsman looks defeated, dropping his gaze to the ground. His knees follow until he's kneeling in front of me, head bowed.
"I must put an end to your fear of me," he whispers. "Give me any order. Punish me. Tell me to beg like a dog or lick the ground you walk upon, and it will be done. Anything. I have told you, I am yours to command."
The edge in Wulf's voice makes me realize…the fact that I haven't tried to level the playing field between us is starting to torture him. I haven't used the power he gave me over him to hurt him, retaliate, or order him around out of spite, like he must have expected me to when he made the pledge.
It says a lot about this guy that he's this insistent about receiving a fair punishment from someone he hurt.
I guess it also says a lot about me when I don't give him a single order before I slip into the room—because I know being left to wallow in guilt is a worse punishment for someone as noble as him.