Chapter Six
Abauna shed her metallic outer gown, keeping the rest of her garments intact. She carefully folded the ceremonial piece before draping it across the nearby chair and removed her headdress and veil. Anything to distract her from the beast in the corner.
A quick glance in his direction showed his back to her, hand near his waist as he—
He didn’t even try to hide what he was doing. Then again… how could he? There was nowhere to go. Even the alcove that held the toilet had no door to separate them.
This must be as difficult for him as it was for her.
Probably even moreso.
She remembered the deep hurt etched in his eyes when she wasn’t able to hold in her surprise at first seeing him. And the way his shoulders slumped when she asked if he was the beast of legend.
Her groom was used to being scorned.
Now that her panic was abated, she could think more clearly. See things as they were instead of through the lens of fear. And it was obvious that he wasn’t a monster at heart. He was taking an enormous risk—they both were—by faking the confirmation. No doubt he did it to spare her because he knew she was rattled.
Abauna chewed her lip, shame eating at her.
As a bride, she should be better at containing her feelings. It was her duty and honor to confirm their marriage before the sun rose. Yet…
The idea of lying with a beast of a man… terrified her.
She hadn’t expected a gentle coming by any means, but she assumed her male would be like any other male.
Did his parts even work the same? Or was her training all for nothing?
But what scared her the most was the idea of failing. What if she couldn’t please a man like him at all? It would be a greater failure than her despised appearance. Because at least that wasn’t done by her hand. But if she failed at this, the responsibility would be all hers.
His breathing quickened in the silence of the room and she squeezed her eyes shut as if that would help him maintain his privacy. He shouldn’t be doing this alone. She should be helping him at least.
“I-Is there anything I can do to assist?” It was a silly question, for sure, but she had to ask.
His responding grunt was fraught with frustration.
“Would it help if I…” What? What was she willing to do? “Um… touched it?” It. Like his manhood was a whole separate entity.
Gods, she was no good at wifery.
Yet, her mind interjected. Not good at it yet.
“Can you sing?” His gruff voice pulled her from her thoughts.
“Sing?”
“Yes. Just cover your ears, and sing a song. Something that will block out what I’m doing.”
Sing. Okay.
Yeah, she could do that.
Pressing her palms over her ears, she hummed a tune she remembered from childhood. It was a working song, taught to Tricean young to utilize later when they labored for the Empress and the Barbarian people.
Her groom probably didn’t know it.
And it was long, which was good, because he might need time.
She wasn’t sure how much passed before he finished, his touch on her shoulder making her yelp with surprise.
“It’s done.” His sheepish look as he went to lay the folded cloth near the door snagged at her heart.
Silently, he washed his hands in the basin and dried them before turning back to her.
“You should sleep, bride.” His tone was quiet. Even… sad. “The bed is yours.”
She couldn’t find her voice to ask where he would sleep, but he settled in the chair, turning his furious glare on the bedroom door as if daring someone to come through it.
Abauna forced her body to move, folding the covers back just enough to slip beneath them. The gown wasn’t meant for sleeping and was uncomfortable, but it was better than stripping before the beast.
When she was settled, she looked back at him to find his gaze hadn’t moved from the door.
Did he plan to watch it all night? No one was allowed to enter or leave the chambers, armed guards made sure of it, so what would be the point? Perhaps he was simply too uncomfortable to do anything else.
As awkward as the situation was, she felt the desire to comfort him the way he’d comforted her at the altar. A kindness for a kindness.
You can do this, Abauna. You can.
Clearing her throat, she made her voice steady. “Thank you, husband. I understand the risk you’ve taken in order to show me kindness on our wedding night.”
He grunted in response.
“It seems to me that the stories of you and your ruthlessness are wrong.”
Shoulders slumping, he turned his gaze on her, eyes guarded. “Yet you fear me still.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. He wasn’t easy to look at, but she felt it had more to do with something that was beyond his fur covered skin. Something she couldn’t name made Rolan hard to look at.
Pain, her mind supplied for her.
He’d been hurt—she saw it at the altar. But if he’d been kept by the Empress, there was probably a lifetime of it built up inside.
“Was it difficult for you?” she blurted. “Providing the proof?”
It was such an inappropriate question, but she needed to know what it cost him. What she owed him.
His eyes dipped to her shoulder, lingering there. She’d embarrassed him.
She opened her mouth to take the question back—
“Not more difficult than this must be for you,” he said.
“What did you think of?” Oh, gods, what was wrong with her? There was curiosity, and then there was whatever this was. She had no business asking him what he thought of while bringing himself to releas—
“My hand,” he rumbled. “And how good it will feel to watch the Empress squirm during the hearing tomorrow.”
Abauna blew out a breath, feeling her cheeks burn.
“It’s clear she despises you as much as she does me,” she managed. “Aren’t we a pair.”
“I suppose the Empress despises much in this world, if her countenance is anything to go by. Has she made much trouble for you?”
Abauna nodded, knowing he would learn the truth eventually. “She has punished my tribe greatly at my expense.”
“Why?”
“It started before I was old enough to even understand what it meant to be hated. I can’t fathom her reasons. I only know that I carry the blame.”
Silence.
“She is threatened by you,” Rolan concluded.
“No, it can’t be that. She is most powerful and revered. She can make dreams come true with the snap of her fingers. I’m merely a worker. A cog in her machine.”
“Not all threats are obvious. Some are very subtle. Nearly imperceivable,” he argued softly. “I’ve learned those are the most dangerous of all.”
Abauna frowned. “I’ve done nothing to harm her. Or anyone for that matter. I… I’m not like that.” Her groom didn’t know her, but somehow, the notion that he thought she might be dangerous… hurt.
“I don’t mean that you’ve done anything on purpose. Or anything at all. I mean that she only ruins people for two reasons. Because it’s fun, or because they might get in her way. You must be the latter.”
Abauna considered his words. She didn’t see how someone as insignificant as her could ever get in the Empress’s way. But the beast would understand her cruelty better than anyone else.
“And you?” Abauna asked. “Which reason applies to you?”
A slight snarl curled his lips, vibrating the fur around his mouth. “The first. I’m nothing but a toy for her. And she doesn’t play nice.”
Abauna swallowed around the knot in her throat. His words, and the fierce emotion behind them turned her stomach.
“I’m sorry, beast.” The sentiment left her lips without her permission, but she meant it all the same. “No one deserves to be hurt like I’m certain you have been.”
His expression lifted in surprise before he masked it. But she didn’t miss the softening around his eyes. He was easier to read than he should be with his features hidden as they were.
“Don’t pity me, bride,” he whispered. “I must protect the last scraps of my pride, so I’ll only say it this once. Never pity me.”
Of course. There’d been no dignity for him for far too long. No measure of respect, not even the likes of which was given to the lowest tribe.
But after this night, he had hers.
“It’s not pity that makes me sorry, it is respect.”
With that, she turned in the bed, her back to him, ending the conversation.
It felt like hours before she was calm enough to sleep, but just as she drifted off, she heard him rise from his seat. He was quiet as a breath, his footfalls soft as he moved closer to the bed. She didn’t move a muscle, waiting to see what he’d do.
But seconds ticked by, moments too many to count, and sleep called to her.
As she followed it under, she felt him drag the covers over her body, tucking them around her shoulders. Then he returned to the chair.
No one… no one, had ever tucked her into bed as she slept. No one had ever shown her such care. None but a beast of a man scorned by the masses.
This won’t be forgotten.
It was the last thought she entertained before she succumbed to the darkness of sleep.