Chapter 24 #2
As expected. I’ve only begun to tell them the news, and they’re already outraged.
My mother falls onto a chaise lounge and drapes a hand over her face. She’s not fainted, but by gods, she is fantastic at pretending as if she has. I have long grown accustomed to her dramatics, and now, I am above them—though some would argue I inherited them myself.
“Perhaps you ought to direct that question at Princess Minetta,” I drawl. “She’s the one who tricked me.”
Tibalt chokes back laughter. He stands at the door, as dutiful as ever, and as always, my parents ignore him. There’s nothing to protect me from here, but I find comfort in having someone on my side.
“I simply do not understand.” My mother lets her hand fall. Look at that, she is already up. “She was at the ball—I remember her.”
“It does not matter.” I lift my hands. “I will not marry her. We’ve already agreed—she has agreed—she will return home tomorrow.”
“You did not speak to us about this,” my father says. “How childish. How foolish.”
“I’m in love with someone else.” I cross my arms. “If you wish to break this curse, I must be allowed to marry her. You must not repeat your parents’ mistakes. That is the very point of this curse, is it not?”
I look out the window, begging for a glimpse of the sun, anything to energize me into telling the truth.
“Who?” My father gives Tibalt an accusatory stare. “Is it—”
Tibalt holds up both hands. “It was not me, Your Majesty. I would not agree to a betrothal. Not the marrying type.”
“Ah…” My father scoffs. “Good. Better that it is not one of the employees.”
Tibalt holds back yet another round of laughter, coughing instead.
I love him, but heavens above, I hate him as well.
I clear my throat. “The curse requires a true love marriage to break it. I believe I can get rid of this curse once and for all, but marrying Minetta will not do the trick.”
My mother stands and smooths her skirt. “Very well. You have already decided, and there is nothing we can do about that—but we will not change the date of your nuptials. The harvest moon is nearly a fortnight away, and we must take advantage of it.”
I don’t wish to hasten a marriage with Ophelia, but we have centuries to enjoy each other and deepen our love. If things were different, we could have a leisurely courting period. Alas, that’s not the life I live.
Surely she will understand… will she not?
“Fine,” I murmur. “We’ll be married at the harvest moon.”
“See that you waste no more time,” my father says. “We must meet this new curse-breaker.”
OPHELIA
I don’t see Emyr—I feel him. His hand wraps around mine, and he pulls me into a darkened hallway, pressing me to a wall.
The lights in these halls usually turn on when someone walks by, but they don’t now, giving us the cover of shade.
His other hand moves over my mouth, muffling the gasp he pulls from me.
“Forgive me,” he whispers, his eyes glistening with mirth. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.” He drops his hand, allowing me to speak.
“Yes, you did. You enjoy surprising me.”
I enjoy it, too. Pleasure pulses between my thighs, and I squeeze them together. This is not the time, nor is it the place, for me to be so aroused.
“Perhaps.” His forehead presses to mine. “Or perhaps I just wanted to see you. It’s been too long.”
“It has been but a day.”
“As I said, too long. I’m sorry for being so busy.”
“If you’ve come to deliver the news, I’ve already heard.” I lift a brow. “You are too slow.”
“How did word get out so soon?” His eyes narrow. “Those damn gossips.”
“Who did you tell?” I play with a strand of his long, glossy hair. He has surely told enough people that it’s safe for us to steal this moment alone, but my heart still jumps with worry.
He clears his throat. “Well… everyone. My parents will release an official statement in a few days.”
My eyes widen. “You shouldn’t have—”
“I can’t remain bound to her when my heart belongs to you.”
My chest heaves. “There are still so many other matters for us to take care of. The worsening curse, that it is impacting the high fae—did you tell your parents about that?”
His expression darkens. “No, and I won’t. If they know, they will only pressure me to marry her—the more certain choice, in their eyes.”
My stomach drops. “Oh.”
“Don’t fret. I know you’re the more certain choice, no matter what they may think. I told them of you—not in name, but that I found my true love. The one who will break the curse.”
Everything he’s saying thrusts me deeper into a state of confusion, and I’m only brought out by him stating what I am so plainly—his true love. I’m the true love of the prince. He adores me enough to remain pressed to me, even though I’m dirty and damp from cleaning.
A man who once scorned the idea of true love now believes in it because of me. By the gods, what tremendous pressure—but my heart is already his, and I can’t take it back.
In the same breath, he calls me a title that comes with a significant enough burden to push me right into Hells—the one who will break the curse. The curse-breaker.
How could that be me?
“Emyr?” someone calls—his father, I realize.
The king.
I expect the prince to pull away from me. Instead, he splits himself in two—something I’m still growing used to. His double walks to his father while he remains pressed to me, his hand sliding over my mouth again.
He plants soft kisses on my neck, and I melt, not truly listening to the mutterings of Emyr’s double and his father.
Warmth pools in my belly.
“Your mother and I demand an audience with your new betrothed,” the king says. “It must be soon. We’ll have to give our approval before you announce your betrothal.”
Betrothal? Announcement? It’s so soon.
My eyes widen. I am grateful Emyr is too busy sinking his teeth into my neck to make note of the shock that is certain to be in my expression.
“I will arrange it,” the other Emyr says, sounding unlike I have ever heard—he is stiff and robotic, and it has little to do with his use of the magical double. That is how he speaks to his family, I suppose.
“See to it quickly,” the king says.
The second Emyr returns, and the hand moves from my mouth.
“I am sorry to shock you like that,” he murmurs, the sound coming from both versions of him.
“It… it’s all happening so quickly.”
“If you don’t wish to—”
“No.” I shake my head. “I may not feel ready now, but I will be. Our marriage is important to the land and to me. I love this palace as much as you do.”
The Sun Palace is my new home, but it is my home nevertheless. It’s the place that took me in when I had nowhere to go. If I can be the one to save it, I will.
His expression softens as he merges into one, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “How I love you.” He moves his fingers below my skirt, and despite the fear in my body, arousal lights me up.
There is no gasp from me, no surprise, when his fingers find my bare cunt.
“Ah…” He chuckles. “You are already prepared for me, are you?”
He kisses me again, long and slow, rolling over my clit with his sacred touch. My mouth opens to release a moan, but he swallows it, delving his tongue past my lips.
“Someone will see,” I whimper.
“They won’t. It is only us, alone in the dark.” He rubs faster. “I wish to make you unravel like this—just this once—then you may return to your duties.”
“That is…” I sigh softly. “That is acceptable, Your Highness.”
“Heavens.” He grunts. His hard length presses against my thigh, but rather than taking me as he may wish, he continues circling his fingers, faster and faster. Sparks of magic flow into me. Is it his magic, or my arousal?
My fingers dig into his back, desperate for something to clutch as he pushes deep into my hole.
“There you go,” he says, so sweetly. “Unravel for me, little halfling. Clench around me. Give me all your pleasure. It belongs to me, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” I whimper. “Yes, Your Highness.”
He stares me deep in the eyes with ravenous hunger. “You know… I never liked the sound of that title until it was on your filthy lips.”
I smile a lazy, crooked smile. “I love you, too.”