Chapter Eight #2
He was saying words, but she was busy focusing on Onyx.
She had done her very best not to think of him.
Not to imagine him. And now there he was.
Looking at her with those fathomless, dark eyes, his mouth set into a grim line.
She tried to find something in his expression that reminded her of her lover from that night. But she couldn’t see it.
Maybe it was foolish to look for it now. What would it change?
What would it change?
Well, it might give her the assurance that he was all of these things. The hard, difficult man who had become a villain to her when he didn’t trust her, but also, the passionate lover who had given her the kind of pleasure she had only ever dreamed of before.
Without love, did it matter? Because that night she had given herself to him out of something much deeper than lust.
But maybe it didn’t have to be that way. Maybe she could just enjoy his body. Maybe, if she didn’t want to hold on to her anger they could build something a little bit more like…
No. This was the danger of thinking of the future. She grounded herself in the moment, in her breathing. In him. That was the problem. The thing in front of her right now was Onyx.
She realized now that he was a stranger to her.
That was the real lesson. The one that she had been resisting.
It wasn’t that she had known him before, and then he had changed. He contained multitudes. The ability to make her sigh out with pleasure, and make her weep.
He was hard, and he was soft. He was good, and he could do very bad things.
He could be a man respectful to the one who served him his coffee every day, and he could be a vicious snob.
He would defend his territory, would make it clear that he was not to be trifled with when he felt that he needed to.
Onyx was something much more complex than she had ever allowed him to be.
He had been a king that she loved. And she had been a servant.
He had been married, out of reach for so many reasons, and now she had to actually contend with the reality of him.
So far that reality was difficult. So far that reality was something she wanted little to do with.
And now she was going to have to face it. Head-on. “We will now say vows. Onyx, repeat after me.”
And Onyx did. In low, certain tones, and she was listening to try to divine if there was truth to it, or if this was only ceremony.
Because with him it could be either.
When she spoke the words back, she had to make a decision of her own. Ceremony. It would only be ceremony, these promises. These pieces of herself that she had to give away to this man forever and ever so that she could have her child, so that she could have some peace.
And yet it shifted. Because she found herself digging deep and making those promises for real.
Not so much to him, but to herself. To her child.
That she would try to devote herself to this, to this role, with real sincerity, to try to make a place of happiness and security.
She wished that it didn’t feel profound. She wished that it didn’t feel like she was giving herself to him, because she was still angry, and she didn’t feel that he deserved it.
But it wasn’t about what he deserved. It was about what was real.
This moment was real. This wedding was real.
“I do,” she said. And then, it was time for them to kiss.
There had been no discussion of this, because there had been no discussion of anything.
He moved his hand around to cup her head, and she remembered that night vividly.
The way that his fingers had moved through her hair.
And then the ball, when they had done the same.
It was the way that he held her; maybe it was the way he held all women when he was about to kiss them.
Maybe there was nothing special about it, but it felt singular.
And as his lips touched hers, she was transported back to that moment.
Transported back to the very first time.
She had been so convinced that there was no hope left inside of her. But it began to stir. She felt the pieces of her heart begin to rattle. Felt some sense that maybe, just maybe this was still between them.
No. You don’t need this.
She told herself that sternly, and then, she was the one who broke the kiss, which likely shattered all manner of protocol, and she had no idea how it looked to the people sitting in the chapel.
She hadn’t thought about them even once.
Hadn’t looked out to see who was watching the two of them get married.
She had wondered about it for a moment. And then no more.
They were pronounced then, and Onyx held her hand as they walked down the aisle together.
There was no reception planned for the day, and she was grateful for that when Onyx turned to her.
His expression was stern, and forbidding.
“It is done,” he said.
“Yes. It is.”
“I will leave you. There is a new room being prepared for you. You will be taking the queen’s quarters now.”
“Oh.”
“They adjoin mine, but do not fear. I will not take advantage of the door between the two rooms.”
“No. I suppose not.”
“I didn’t when Circe occupied them either.”
Of course. Because she was the second of his queens to occupy the space. And he hadn’t…
He hadn’t used her door either.
She frowned. She wanted to ask him questions, but she knew that he wouldn’t welcome them. She knew that it wasn’t anything he would want to speak of. At least not to her.
And meanwhile, she was nothing but the replacement queen. And only because she was carrying a baby. If not for that, then she wouldn’t be here at all.
She allowed him to lead her to the quarters, but he didn’t touch her when they walked.
It was in a distant wing of the palace, one she had never been in, because that wasn’t part of her job.
She walked into the room, which was ornate, filled with bright colors, and she felt her stomach pitch, because obviously it was Circe who had decorated this room, and Birdie had slept with the woman’s husband the night of her funeral.
“You may make any changes that you want,” he said.
“Oh.”
“This is your room now. You’re not obligated to leave anything the same.”
“All right.”
It felt wrong to make changes. It felt like she was erasing this other person whose position she had already taken. And everybody was going to know exactly how it happened. Maybe they would even think that she and Onyx had been having an affair.
But they hadn’t been. That had to matter.
Still. There was something entirely uncomfortable about the idea of both living in Circe’s space, and erasing her from it.
Her throat felt prickly.
“I have some things to see to.”
“On your wedding day?”
“The world doesn’t stop spinning for any reason.”
“Right. I suppose that’s true.”
“We will have to take dinner together. It is simply expected.”
“Oh.”
“I will see you tonight.”
“Yes. See you tonight.”
She didn’t really like the still sadness of this. The formality. It was almost worse than anger.
It was. It was worse than anger.
Because at least anger had something to it. This just felt…
Don’t think about it. Just think about the moment.
Except, in the moment, she was surrounded by all of these things that made her feel so…wrong.
So she decided to change her clothes and go down to the kitchen. Because at least there she felt comfortable.