10. Ten
”Good morning, Miss Aistin.” Raya”s voice makes my head spin when she storms into my room. The air around me smells faintly of lavender, andall I want isto bury my head into my pillow for a few more hours of unconsciousness among the calming scent.
But that”s not an option. Not with energetic, already perfectly made-up Raya springing into my room. With little more than a groan, I roll over and peek through one eye at her.
”How did you… sleep?”she asks, eyes slowly taking in the maelstrom of pillows and blankets I created last night. As her eyes dart around at the carnage, she drapes another impossibly beautiful dress across the foot of my bed. From what I can tell, when the room stops spinning, it”s the same barely-there fabric as everything they”ve given meso far. It”s the deepest shade of red, this time with tiny scarlet beads dotted along the bodice and a deeply inappropriate neckline.
It”s stunning and terrifying and everything I”ve come to feel about this castle and its inhabitants already.
”Oh, I slept fine,”I finally reply, though I feel as if I”ve been run over by a cart. Several carts.
She blinks a few times, still staring at the mess I”ve made. It didn”t occur to me as I was doing this that someone else would have to come and clean it up in the morning. I”ve never had a maid or nanny. I always took care of these things myself. As such, self-sabotage has always been a safe way to express my anger. But now, looking at Raya, all I can feel is guilt.
”I”m sorry about the mess,”I mutter. ”I was just…”
After a moment, her expression brightens. ”Oh, don”t you worry. I bet it just got super hot in here last night. No need to be sorry that you kicked off all the blankets in your sleep.”
We both know she knows better, but thankfully, she”s showing me the mercy of not asking why pillows are only inches from the fireplace or why there”s a pile of books on the floor when only last night they were very carefully arranged on the little bedside table.
”I really am sorry,”I say again. ”I”m going to clean it all up.”
She waves a hand at me. ”Nonsense. This is my job.”
While I know that”s true, that doesn”t mean it”s right for me to leave it all to her, so I ignore the pounding in my head and roll off the blissful softness to help. Thankfully, she allows it, responding only with an empathetic smile. Neither one of us needs to point out the obvious awkwardness.
”Do you need a healer, Miss Aistin?”she finally asks once the room is partially in orderonce more. After a moment of me giving her what must be the most clueless look possible, she laughs. ”You drank a lot of wine.”
”Oh,”I rub my eyes with my fingertips as if I could push away the aching behind them. ”That would be great, actually. If it”s not too much trouble.”
With a nod, she assures me, ”Not at all. There”s almost always one nearby in the mornings for the king.”
”Really?”I ask. ”Why? Does his Royal Majesty often drink himself to sleep, too?”
She stares blankly at me, almost as if looking right through me. 1... 2... 3 seconds she just stares beforecoming backto reality, though lacking all of her usual tenacity, and it is replaced with a coldness I”ve not yet seen from her. ”No, he just doesn”t usually find enough time for restful sleep and ends up with terrible headaches. I”ll send a healer in with breakfast. Be dressed and in the common area in ten.”Without another word or even a smile, she stalks out of my room, leaving behind the distinct impression that my question was overstepping.
By no means was Itrying to interrogate her about her mercurial king”s drinking habits...Nor was I trying to discover just how familiar she is with how he spends his nights. I was just curious. Innocently curious about the man sleeping only one room away.
Staggering my way into my closet with my new dress in hand, the scent of lavender from before becomes nearly intoxicating, mixed with something far more potent. Something inherently him. Sweet and bitter and utterly delicious. The proximity of our rooms is going to be miserable. I”ll never escape how much he overwhelms every one of my senses.
The dress feels incredible once again.I”venever given much thoughtintolooking beautiful,always more worried about being presentable, beingpalatable. But the clothing here feels decadent without being heavy, lovely without being ostentatious. For just a moment, I allow myself tojustenjoy the way it hugs my body, the way it moves with me, almost like a ripple when you skip a rock.
A knock pulls me from my thoughts, and I”m suddenly reminded that I was supposed to be in the common area between our rooms for breakfast. I grab the closest sandals I can find, sliding into them as quickly as possible. While I walk toward the exit, I grab the only thing they”ve not managed to take from me, my favorite hairpin, and twist my hair back.
The doors open as I near them, and the king”s voice travels to me before I even spot him.
”You were supposed to be out here three minutes ago,”he says before drinking some kind of steaming drink from the cup in his hand.
”Well, forgive me, but I had a hard time adjusting to—What is that?”The sweet but bitter smell fills the air around us, choking out every other thought I might have had in that moment.
He raises a brow at me. ”What is what?”
”That smell, what is it?”
With a grin, he takes another sip. ”You don”t have coffee in Rhyma?”
Coffee.All I can do is shake my head. While his arrogance at this moment makes my skin itch, it”s far overshadowed by the discovery of whatever coffee is.
He chuckles, the most authentic laugh I”ve heard from him yet. ”I”m not surprised. The beans need a humid climate to thrive. It”s very expensive to export.”
My curiosity gets the best of me, dragging me closer to him and the incredible scent he carries with him everywhere. ”So it”s food?”I sit across from him, praying to all the gods that he”s willing to share.
”Not exactly.”His eyes meet mine for a moment, their coldness firmly in place. The dark shadows beneath his eyes lend truth to Raya”s statement about a lack of sleep, and my chest suddenly feels too tight thinking of how she might know that much about him. How he spends his restless nights. ”We use hot water to extract the flavor from the beans.”
”Like tea,” I suggest.
He nods, then gestures for a guard. Without a single word exchanged, the guard pours a dark brown, almost oily-looking drink into a small white teacup. The guard places it in front of me, and the king waits, watching me so closely I feel my cheeks heat.
Such a silly thing, this is. To be excited about a drink.
But I am undeniably excited, soI”mgoing to try it anyway. Shaking off any embarrassmentI might feelabout being watched, I lift the scalding drink to my lips and take a small sip.
Oh, by the gods.
Only by pure willpower do I keep from spitting it out.
”It does not taste as good as it smells,”I confess.
The king bursts into laughter, making me even more furious. I stand, ready to disappear back into my room. I”m too tired, too hungover, too emotionally drained to be dealing with this asshole laughing at me.
As quickly as it came, the laughter stops, the king looking as surprised by the outburst as I was.
”Sit, Elva.”
Both ofmy brows shoot into the air, and I open my mouth to tell himjusthow I feel about him barking orders at me like I”m one of his subjects and not an equal.
”Please?”he adds. ”Come, I”ll show you how to make it better.”
He adds some kind of thick, creamy milk himself rather than letting a servant do it, then leans back to let me try the damned thing again.
This time, when the drink hits my tongue, I barely conceal a moan.
”Better?”he asks, the corpse-like facade back in place.
”Much,”I nod. ”Why did you wait until after I tried it to make it taste good?”
With a shrug, he answers, ”Some people prefer it plain.”An almost mischievous look fills his face before he concedes. ”And I needed a laugh.”
”You”re a terrible host,”I tell him honestly.
”I think I”ve been the most gracious host,”he argues. ”I let you live when you arrived, and I didn”t have to do that. I protected you when someone wanted to kill you, even though it cost me a handful of subjects. I moved you into the queen”s suite to keep you safe. I have given you both wine and coffee.”
”Technically, Raya gave me the wine,”I comment through gritted teeth.
All humor drops from his face. ”There is nothing Raya does that I don”t give her permission to do. Do not go looking for an ally in my home, Elva. You won”t find what you”re looking for.”
”Yes, you”ve made it perfectly clear that I am utterly alone here, Your Majesty. In fact, I have not even seen the footman that traveled with me since I arrived.”
”Han is fine,”he assures me. ”He”s staying with the other footmen in their wing.”
I scoff, ”And why should I believe you?”
”Do or don”t,”he takes another sip of hisownbeverage. ”Truthfully, I do not care either way. If he is dead, what do you plan to do about it? He was not protected by your people for this little venture, so I would be well within my rights as king to eliminate an unwelcome guest.”
”You didn”t.”
”No, I didn”t,”he says again. ”But I still might. He was sniffing around where he didn”t belong. And for your sake, one of my guards gently redirected him. But if it happens again, make no mistake, I will do whatever I deem necessary.”
Why would Han be looking around? He”s just supposed to be here to transport me back and forth.
”How will I get home if you kill him?”I ask instead of the real question I have about it all.
He considers me for a moment. ”I wouldn”t worry about that quite yet if I were you. We haven”t even begun negotiations, and already, we can”t seem to get along.”
”Frankly, I don”t really care if we get along, Your Majesty. I only-”
One of his servants suddenly falls to the floor, going so completely still there”s not even a twitch of his body nor a slight movement of his chest rising up and down. Terror overtakes me, my hand freezing halfway through lifting my drink to my lips.
The king clears his throat. ”If you remember, I did warn you I didn”t want to hear you call me Your Majesty again, didn”t I?”
I can”t take my eyes off the corpse lying on the floor beside my chair. Can”t do anything but listen to the roaring in my ears.
The king grabs a pastry off the table before us, tearing into it as if there isn”t a dead fucking body joining us for breakfast this morning. He watches me, that same taunting almost-smirk on his face as if daring me to retaliate. But what can I do in the face of this kind of power?
Nothing.
For the first time in my life, I am utterly, hopelessly powerless.
So I do what I can. I take a sip of coffee, grab a sickly sweet pastry, and swallow my anger like I”ve done for years. The only familiar thing here is the sting of biting back my rage. I can take comfort in that one small piece of home.
The king seems disappointed at my lack of reaction, but thelast thing I need to do is encourage his madness by giving him a reason to do something even more heinous.
”Do you have gloves to wear today?”he asks me suddenly.
I stare at the king, not seeing him. Not really. All I see is the corpse, stuck to the front of my mind, commanding my attention so much so that nothing else around me exists but the corpse and the pastry I”ve torn to shreds sticking to my fingertips. ”Gloves?”
”Gloves,”he repeats. After a brief pause, he continues, ”You”re going to be shaking a lot of hands today, Elva.”
”Mhmm. Yes.” Hands. Gloves. Wait. ”Today?”
He nods, watching me closely. ”Today. While not everyone will arrive, King Farhan Colm from Fastid, the three witch queens, and the Queen of Suva will be here sometime this afternoon. The Crown Prince from Lermo and Slawyth”s representatives will take a bit longer, so we are expecting them tomorrow.”
The familiar weight that always fills me when meeting new people makes my chest hurt, and Itake a sip of my now pleasantly cooled coffee, trying to find something to do with my hands to keep them from shaking.
”What can you tell me about them?”I ask, hoping that he will show mercy and kindness just for a moment in the best interest of peace for all of us.
He shrugs. ”Queen Maren is fine. Very old, very wise.”
I”veheard almost nothing about her, only that shelets the fair folk run amuck in her kingdom.How wise could she be? ”How old?”
”She was here when this castle was built,”he tells me. But that”s impossible. My jaw drops, and he chuckles. ”She”s half-Fae.”
”She is?”I almost feel terrified, but my wonder overshadows anything else. ”But-”
”I”ll not tell you anything else about her,”he warns before adding, ”because she”s a wonderful storyteller and will happily answer all of your questions. She loves mortals with a healthy curiosity.”
”What about Slawyth?”
”Their president and his husband can drink more than anyone I”ve ever met, so do not try to keep up with them. Other than that, they just want peace and to be left alone.”
I nod, the information so far being surprisingly pleasant. While part of me is furious that no one in Rhyma has bothered to learn these things about our neighbors, I”m excited to be part of the new future,the onewhere we all work together. I wondersilentlyhow King Kairon knows these things, if he”s spent much time with them, or if he has gathered this information from his predecessor.
”And Tirriel?”
He sits frozen for a moment, aside from a slight quirk of his lips as he considers his words. ”The Lermoan prince is generally harmless unless you fall to his charms. He”s a relentless flirt, you see. It”s his strength and his weakness if you can leverage it properly.”
”And have you?”
He allows himself a small grin, onethat doesn”t quite reach his eyes, as if waiting for something else to push him into a full smile.”Have I what, my Elva?”
”Have you leveraged the crown prince?”I tease, wondering how he gathered that particular piece of knowledge.
Running his fingers through his hair, he chuckles. ”I have no need to use seduction to get what I want from people. Generally speaking, their fear of me does what I need it to do.”
”Generally? But not always?”I raise a brow.
His gaze turns smoldering as he pointedly answers, ”Not always.”
The heat from his eyes fills me, starting in my chest, radiating out, starting an aching between my legs I”ve never felt before. His stare feels more intense, more intimate than any hands that have ever touched my body. I shouldn”t be playing this game with him. He killed someone in front of me only moments ago. But something about his wicked ways makes me feel safe. As if nothing I do could ever be too horrid in his eyes. He can see the parts of me that I don”t allow anyone to witness and understand them.
Desperate to escape these dangerous thoughts, I change the subject. ”What about King Colm?”
His knowing smirk fills me with more terror than even the macabre display. He could push me further, and I”m not sure how much more I could take before I let him carry me away onto a bed of sin, fear, and depravity.
”Egomaniac. Boring. Not nearly as smart as he believes he is.”
”Sounds like someone else I know,”I quip before I think betterof it.
He laughs again, something close to affection, barely drowning out the overwhelming heat in his eyes. ”You and Raya are going to be the best of friends.”
”I thought I wasn”t allowed to be friends with her,”I remind him, momentarily irked that the pleasantness in his face was for her, though it doesn”t matter. I do not crave his affection. Only peace.
His brows raise for a moment. ”By all means, be her friend. She could use one almost as badly as you could.”Before I can argue, he adds, ”My warning is that you don”t go looking for someone who might betray me in my own castle. The only people here are ones I”ve hand-picked because of their unwavering loyalty to me.”
A thought hits me. ”And if I want to be friends with Shan?”
Any warmth he might havebeen holdingdrops from his face, exciting me almost as much as it startles me. He might be known for being emotionally aloof, but I”ve spent years recognizing feelings before others know they”re even feeling them. And this emotion is one I”ve found thrilling in the king.
”It”ll be the last thing he ever does.”
I brighten my voice, feigning naivety. ”Why?”
Jaw clenching, he answers, ”Because Shan doesn”t have friends. He has conquests. And if he touches you, I”ll fucking kill him.”
I hmm in acknowledgment, ”And if I touch him?”
The sound of a furious breath, nearly a growl, leaving him makes my heart race. This man hardly knows me, yet would kill his right-hand man if he even dared come close to me.
I”ve encountered possessiveness before, but never have I felt powerful because of it. Mich”s jealousy and hatred always felt like my body was the weapon he might wield against me.
But now... I am both the weapon and the wielder, and the most feared and powerful man in our land has placed himself in front of me as my target.
”The witch queens are intimidating,”he tells me through gritted teeth, abruptly changing the subject. ”But ultimately, they see all, hear all, know all, and their only motivation is the continuation of life.”
This confuses me, and my brows pinch to show it.
”All life,”he clarifies. ”From the smallest ant to the largest ghoul in the barren desert.”
That can”t be right. ”The witches hate mortals.”
”No,”he scoffs. ”They just don”t believe that our lives are more important than the lives of others. So they never agree to anything that does not benefit every manner of being in our world.”
We”ve always been told that the witches take every opportunity they have to trick and kill humans, Zalig or not. I can”t admit that once again, I”ve been misled by my leaders, lest I give the king more ammunition against me.
”Sounds simple enough.”I stand, smoothing the skirts of my dress down. ”Anything else?”
He gazesupat me, his gray eyes looking impossibly large from this angle. In a motion that would be horrid from anyone else, he licks his lips, his eyes roaming me hungrily.My legs twitch, aching to take a step closer, to rub together-something. Any movement would be better thanmyforcing them to freeze in place rather than react to his impropriety.
”No, my Elva. Just remember your gloves. I”ll see you this afternoon. Feel free to spend the morning however you wish.”
The dismissal breaks whatever spell he cast on me, and withthe freedom to finally do so, I practically run back into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me to hide until I have to come out and face the people who will decide all of our fates.