9. A Simple No Would Suffice
Chapter 9
A Simple No Would Suffice
CHARMING
T aking Cinder’s hand, I guide her back up to the dais where my mother and father are. The King’s expression is unreadable, but his eyes flash with barely contained fury. His posture is regal and composed, but I can sense the rage simmering beneath the surface.
I fight the urge to let a smug smile slip onto my face, knowing that it would only stoke his anger further. He may be the King, but I have outmaneuvered him in more ways than one.
Our engagement alone would be scandalous enough—a human and a fairy betrothed? Unheard of.
But to add fuel to the fire, Cinder is also the daughter of my father's close personal friend. It means something.
This is an alliance that could potentially shift the delicate balance of power between humans and fairies.
If the King tries to deny our union, it will come off badly in front of the ambassadors from the Common World.
Common/fairy politics have reached a tense impasse. There have been too many rumors making their way to the Common World about the treatment of humans that have incited conversations about the Midnight Kingdom needing to be checked.
More scrutiny will fall on his autocratic rule, and the Common World might just do something about it.
Our kingdom's strength lies in its isolation. The more attention we draw to ourselves, the more our independence is threatened.
The Common World is a hundred times bigger than Midnight and only a fraction of that power could crack or overwhelm us if they decide the Charming rule has gone on for long enough.
My father knows this too, and the lines creasing the corners of his eyes betray his inner turmoil. Though he wants to lash out, he is trapped. At this moment, I hold all the power, and he knows it.
I’ll pay for this later. Dearly.
Squeezing Cinder’s hand in mine, I murmur, “Do try to look as if you are a besotted bride.”
“I think I’m doing a rather excellent job,” she whispers back, her fingers twitching agitatedly in mine. “Not actively stabbing you and all.”
Bringing her hand to my mouth, I kiss the delicate bones of her knuckles. She jerks it away.
The room draws in a collective breath.
“Don’t put your mouth on my skin,” she hisses under her breath. While her eyes are normally a cold wall giving away nothing that goes on inside, there is a look of wild panic in them now. Her scent intensifies in the air around us, its sweetness mixing with the tanginess of her fear.
What? Did she seriously think I was going to sink my fangs into her right here before everyone?
Not to say the idea of devouring her hasn’t crossed my mind, in more ways than one. . .
The room is seething with palpable tension, a volatile mix of fear and anger swirling around me. No one disrespects the royal family, especially not a human. Cinder’s eyes dart about and I know she senses everything is on the verge.
My muscles tense and my senses are on high alert as I feel the weight of all eyes on us. I can almost taste the tinge of violence lingering in the air. It threatens to explode at any moment.
So, I do what I always do in moments of crisis. I throw my head back and laugh.
“You are right, it’s best to save kisses for when we are in private,” I first address Cinder, then the room, “Who would think I’d be taken with someone so chaste to be my bride?” Sure to make eye contact with those around us, I allow my easy-going nature to permeate the atmosphere until it is so infectious no one can resist.
And just like that, the tension dissipates—shattered like fragile glass under my unflappable command.
Cinder doesn’t fight me when I take her hand again and continue to guide her to the platform where my parents wait.
As soon as we ascend the steps, I pull my mother into an embrace, and she returns the gesture with kisses on each of my cheeks. Her usual distant demeanor sharpens into focus. Her gaze lingers on Cinder longer than normal, scrutinizing as if she's peering into my bride’s very soul or sifting through distant memories.
“My mother, the Queen,” I introduce.
Cinder drops into a deep curtsy.
My mother’s eyes, usually glazed and unfocused, bore into Cinder with an intensity I've never seen her exhibit. She steps forward, a move so out of character that it sends a ripple of unease through me.
The Queen sets a finger under Cinder’s chin, drawing her back up to a standing position. Then, as if caught in a moment, she traces the curve of Cinder’s face.
My mother is the one who taught me to respect all beings equally, so I can only imagine the importance of this engagement has penetrated the fog that is usually about her.
Then, just as quickly as the moment arrives, my mother’s sharpness dissipates and she drifts back, resuming her usual disengaged repose.
A pang shoots through my heart. My mother deserves so much more.
Then I meet my father’s stony expression. I’m well over a foot taller and use the height to my advantage.
Silent communication passes between us, and I can tell he is not impressed with my power play, but nor is he intimidated.
He is, however, pissed off and irritated.
Again, I will pay a price for this little show, but it’s worth it.
This alliance is more than just a scandal—it's a strategic move in a game of political chess. With Cinder as my Queen, I'm one step closer to checkmate.
The smile my father cracks nearly breaks his face as he turns to the room. “Let us rejoice! My son, the prince, has chosen the child of my former friend and familiar, Byung-He Park.”
To further cement the image of a love match, I turn to openly glow at my bride.
Cinder doesn’t look exactly psyched to announce her engagement. As always, her expression remains neutral and unreadable, giving away no hint of her inner thoughts or emotions.
Needing to sell this, I pull her to my side. The way her slight frame fits perfectly to me takes me by surprise as I feel an inaudible click at the connection. Her body is near scalding even through our clothes, making me wonder—do all humans run this hot?
No, I’ve had humans before. They are significantly warmer, but Cinder is running at a near volcanic temperature. I can’t say I don’t enjoy the burn.
Despite our perfect fit, a murderous gleam broadcasts from her violet eyes.
My father goes on with his announcements. “We shall continue with the social season, in celebration of the prince’s pending nuptials. At the end of which, we shall hold the biggest wedding celebration this land or any other has seen.”
He's putting on a show for the ambassadors, masking his true feelings behind a fa?ade of acceptance. I relish how uncomfortable I know he is. He’s almost always able to act however he sees fit, but right now he has to play a part. A part that he abhors but is necessary for his survival.
I can relate.
My father's piercing gaze now falls upon Cinder, and my skin prickles with anticipation. “And I shall be glad to host Cinder Park in our abode until that day comes.”
His words hang heavy in the air, effectively trapping Cinder in our realm, in our castle. While I possess a great, if not inexplicable, desire to keep her close, I know deep down that my father is not announcing her stay out of genuine hospitality.
No, it's just another way for him to assert his control over her like he does with me and everyone else. All under the guise of false kindness and hospitality.
Then with a flick of the King’s wrist, the orchestra strikes up a song and fairies take to the dance floor.
Cinder stumbles next to me, her eyes glazed and unfocused. I pull her arm into mine, steadying her.
Something’s wrong. She's even paler than usual, if that’s possible. This close I can hear her heart beating in an excited arrhythmic pattern.
“I think the excitement might be a bit too much for my bride,” I announce to my father, mother, and those close enough to hear. “We shall take a moment to get our bearings before returning.”
My hand firmly connects to her lower back so I can steer her past the scrutiny of a court consumed by suspicion, disgust, and envy. As soon as I touch her, Cinder stiffens. With a sharp inhale her lips flatten, as if she’s enduring some kind of torture from my physical contact.
As we leave the ballroom, I spot the ambassadors whispering among themselves, their expressions calculating. They know as well as I do that this engagement is a political move, one that could shift the balance of power between our worlds.
I close the doors behind us in a warmly lit library with a roaring fireplace that is nearly as tall as me.
“Are you okay?” I ask once we are alone.
She darts away from me with a wild look in her eyes. “I’m fine. I just need a minute.”
Letting out a shaky breath, she grips the back of the couch with white knuckles. Her chest heaves as she tries to calm herself down, inhaling deeply through her nose.
Something is definitely wrong, but I don’t push. I simply give her a chance to recover. I use the time to study her more closely.
The skinny little girl I knew is still there, but there is a jaded darkness that she wears like a mantle. I imagine it came after her father died.
Seeming to recover somewhat, Cinder comes over to stand before me in front of the firelight.
The light of the dancing flames plays along Cinder’s face, making her look ethereal and inviting. Those lips purse slightly, and I’m suddenly desperate to close the distance and kiss her senseless.
I want to make her mine. As if we really were?—
A sharp smack across my face interrupts my thoughts.
I touch my stinging cheek.
“You presumptuous asshole.” Her eyes are a cutting glare. “Is that your normal tactic? Put a girl on the spot so they can’t refuse you?”
Can’t say I didn’t see this reaction coming.
Can’t even say I don’t deserve it.
I cross to a chair and flop down in it unceremoniously, giving her a shrug. “You said yes, didn’t you?”
“Because you put me on the spot,” she reiterates through clenched teeth. “I’m pretty sure if I turned down the very public proposal of the Prince of Midnight, I’d be immediately executed.” She paces back and forth in front of the fire. The flames flicker and sway, almost as if they want to reach out toward her.
To be fair, her turning me down definitely would have made tonight an ugly affair. But I knew it would all turn out alright.
I lean over, nearly toppling over the chair, but unwilling to stand up to reach the decanter of clear liquor on a nearby table. The glasses are too far, so I unstop the bottle and take a swig directly from the glass neck, allowing the sweet anise flavor to burn down my throat. “If you didn’t want to go in on my proposal, why did you come back?”
The glower she throws in my direction is so intense I instantly give it a name—the purple death.
“I told you. I came here for my own reasons.”
The Ember of Midnight. I remember. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s why she’s here.
When she entered the ballroom, I felt her. I pretended not to, but all my senses were keenly tuned into where Cinder was at any given moment. Beyond that, a need, from deep down at the bottom of my gut, urged me to do it, to put her on the spot and lock her in.
I need her.
For my plan, of course. She’s the only one that will do.
The fact I also want her is irrelevant.
Then there was the stricken way she froze when she caught sight of her stepmother and stepsisters. Anastasia and Drusilla had spent a considerable amount of time and energy throwing themselves in my path with hopes of becoming the next princess of Midnight, even before my marriage season was announced. Despite their flattery and perfect manners over the years, I’ve always sensed a cruelty that turned my insides to stone.
“Well, it’s done now,” I say. I take a longer pull from the bottle, feeling the warmth spread out through my cold limbs. Stretching, I stand again. “So you pose as my bride and get the opportunity to find out what really happened to your father.”
“While you supremely piss yours off,” she adds, heavy skepticism in her tone.
And a wee bit more than that, but the details of my plan don’t need to concern her.
“I am sorry you are trapped here now,” I add with true remorse.
To be honest, I’m still not sure how she’s been traveling back and forth between the Common World and the Midnight realm. But I’ve no doubt her ability to move freely went up in a puff of smoke the second I suckered her into an engagement.
Cinder doesn’t deserve to be under my father’s thumb, but I also can’t help but feel better about having her nearby so I can keep tabs.
Huh. I’ve really developed a noble side.
“Trapped? You think this is just about being trapped?” Her voice is a mix of disbelief and anger. “I have a life beyond this. . . this charade. One that doesn't include playing pretend with you.”
I nod, understanding more than she could imagine. “I know, and I'm not blind to how unfair this is to you. But,” I say, nearing her until there is but a step between us. “We could also reap the extra benefits of our arrangement.”
She barely contains her sneer. “What extra benefits?”
She’s so mean.
I’m obsessed.
I drop my voice to a low husk. “The carnal kind, of course.” Deliberately dragging my eyes over her from head to toe, pausing on all the most delicious spots like her lips, her chest, hips, and surprisingly her wrists, I make my meaning known. “If we are going to sell this, I think it’s a good idea for us to,” I lean in closer, hoping to drag the word over the shell of her ear like a velvet temptation, “fuck.”
A sudden blow lands between my legs, striking me in my most sensitive area. The intense pain shoots through my body, sending my head off in a tailspin. I struggle to catch my breath and regain my balance as tears sting the backs of my eyes.
“That won’t be happening, Your Highness,” she says as she steps back.
“A simple no would have sufficed,” I wheeze, guiding myself into the nearest chair to help with the recovery.
“You’re too handsy.” She crosses her arms over her chest, reminding me of a petulant child. “And I don't fuck vampires. Your kind disgusts me.”
Between her words and her attack on the family jewels, I’d be inclined to believe her except there had been that instant when I first leaned in, so brief I almost missed it. Her lips parted on a sharp inhale as her pupils dilated to dark pools. Her heartbeat picked up speed and her scent intensified, drugging me with vanilla orchid and cedar. It made my mouth water.
Some part of her wants me, and all I can think of is cracking that part of her open so I can work my way inside.
Not just because I’m used to the challenge of routine sexual conquests.
There’s something so deliciously intriguing about Cinder that I can’t ignore. There is a raw edge to this attraction that’s sparked an interest, a curiosity I’ve only felt once before.
And that was toward a young, skinny human who always hung around the outskirts of my life.
I’d ask why she hates my kind so much now, but I’ve seen the way she’s been treated over the years. A barely tolerated entity that my kind looks down upon with thinly veiled disgust. If I were her, I’d hate me too.
Well, not me particularly. I’m charming, after all.
Before I can say anything else, there is a knock on the door. One of my father’s advisors.
It’s time to face the music and take the next step in my plan.
Overthrow my father and take the crown.