12. Twelve
”So there I was,” Colm drones on hours later, sounding— and looking— like my grandpa after one too many dinner drinks. Lethargic and pompous. ”And I thought that certainly, well almost certainly, they wouldn”t be foolish enough to stand against my whole army. And yet, they did.”
I mhmm, urging him to continue, giving him the exact thing he craves, while in the forefront of my mind, all I can think of is The Horned King.NotKairon, the mercurial, admittedly gorgeous kingI”ve dined with, but the formidable, terrifying, undeniably enticing, wicked king.That visage is one that before today has only haunted my nightmares but, in the future, might even star in my most depraved fantasies. Even his posture is different when he”s dressed in his helm and cloak, like he dares the world to stand against him.
Through the dark slits in his helm”s eyes, I feel him watching me. Feel his gaze as it licks every inch of my skin. This man wouldn”t taunt and flirt until I gave in. He would force his way into my life, show me why I want every vile thing he can offer, and make me beg for them again and again. He would hold me down, the haunting mask looming over me while I plead for a mercy neither one of us really wants.
Suddenly horrified by the turn my thoughts took, I try to focus on the task at hand.
The old, decrepit king before me.
The one who keeps wives as trophiesandnever allows them to become queens. Back home, the rumor was that he was looking for a new one. I felt zero attraction from him when I shook his hand, but he regarded me the way one might a work of art, like something to collect or keep on a shelf and show off.
So I sit, be a beautiful statue, and allow him to be the interesting one, hoping he”ll give me something I can use against him.
”And only when we had decimated half of their rankings did we finally decide to show mercy and relent. You know, we lost nearly 90% of our men traveling with us that day. So many gave their lives to hold the line against those Fae bastards.”
Those numbersdon”t addup.That sounds like a defeat to me.
”My goodness. Why were the Fae all the way in Fastid, Your Majesty?” I ask. What need would they have there? A landlocked nation with no exports and even fewer people.
Hesitation radiates from him, not wanting to answer the question, which can only mean he wasn”t in Fastid when he attacked the Fae and then retreated.
”Well, you know, they were after something I had acquired in my youth. A crown worn centuries ago by their queen before she fell. It had been missing since her demise, and I followed the trail with the help of my countrymen.”
”Oh! That”s so interesting! Where did you find it?”I chirp, letting a naive, youthful version of myself lead the way, making him believe I”m entranced by his story and not already deciding that he”s an ass.
Once again, he denies me the answer I”m looking for, but I already know that means he knows he has no right to it. ”It was in the middle of nowhere, not somewhere anyone else would think to look. But my wife at the time knew just where it would be.”
”Yes, I”m sure it was quite difficult to locate in the crypts beneath the palace in Suva.”King Kairon”s voice travels from behind me, spookingbothme and Colm.
”Kairon,”Colm clears his throat, cheeks draining of all color at the threat beneath the king”s tone. ”I thought we had put that behind us. Like I was telling Elva, it was many-”
”Miss Aistin,” Kairon bites.
”Yes, I was telling Miss Aistin that it was in my youth.”The old king clears his throat, redirecting back to me with a condescending smile and patting my hand with his own. ”I was a much more foolish, boarish man then. I”ve settled down in my old age.”
While he looks cordial enough, his anger at being outed isquiteclear to me, practically coming out of his skin in waves. His pride and vanity show meI”mright in believing he just wants to collect pretty things and bask in how they reflect on him.
His Royal Pain-In-My-Ass doesn”t understand what I”m doing here. He thinks I”m being charmed, not that I”m the one doing the charming.Currently,I”mnot surewhich of these two kings I like less: the one who is bragging about his accomplishments or the one who believes me too stupid to recognize it for what it is.
Before I can decide, the most terrifying creature I”ve ever seen enters the room.
Terrifying because she”s so unearthly beautiful. Nothing like her should exist in the natural world. Her hair is a vibrant gold, shining even when there”s no light on it. Her eyes match perfectly, shining in the same way as they land on me from across the great room.
Bronze, blemish, and wrinkle-free skin peeks through her golden gown, every inch of her drawing attention. Her smile, full of perfectly straight white teeth, feels warm even from here, as if she carries the sun with her everywhere she goes. Even if her pointed ears were not so adorned with jewelry as to draw the eye, there would be no mistaking what she is.
The Fae Queen.
Maren.
If she”s only half, I can”t imagine what a full-blooded Fae would look like. No wonder mortals fall to their knees and vow devotion to these creatures.
So quickly that I swear time skips, she”s suddenly right in front of me, and I”m standing, reaching to shake her hand like some divine intervention is forcing me to do so.
She quickly looks at my outstretched hand, then searches my face, that beaming smile never falling. One corner of her lips lifts infinitesimally, and she takes my hand in hers and kisses it.
As her full, garnet lips touch my knuckles, her eyes meet Kairons over my shoulder. I can nearly feelhimbristling at the intimate contact,and it makesme giggle for a moment. Or, perhaps that”s just because of her.
But what I don”t feel, blissfully so, is her emotions. Nothing. A blank slate.
I was subconsciously bracing myself forany plethora offeelings, and yet, nothing. I can feel myself smiling at the incredible nothingness, the gift of a normal interaction without fear of seeing something I shouldn”t.
She winks at me, the motion so fast that none of the others could possibly have caught it. She knows who I am. What I am. And took my hand anyway.
”I”ve heard so much about you, Miss Aistin,”she tells me, speaking as if we are old friends. ”I have been impatiently waiting to meet the first Rhyman who has been brave enough to join our meetings.”
I have to hold back my enthusiasm at meeting one of the fair folk. As it is, I”m sure I failed. ”I”m so happy to meet you, Queen Maren. So, so happy to be here.”
She smiles brighter at me, pulling me closer by the hand that refuses to let go of hers. ”How curious.”
”I”m sorry?” I ask.
She shakes her head, dragging me away from the men to join her. ”It”s just that I expected more fear from you, child. I know what stories Rhyma tells of my kind.”
I sigh, attempting to remain calm in her eyes, which see too much. ”Oh, ummm, I”m not... I don”t know. I haven”t seen fear do much good in places where hope should exist instead.”
She nods, soaking in my words in silence.
Before I even notice, we exit the great room, wandering the halls, which are empty except for King Kairon”s guard.
”Ask your questions, child,”she finally says.
I trip over myself. ”Really?”
She chuckles. ”Yes. Please. I love to sate an openly curious mind, and yours is so very open that I can nearly see your questions written all over your face.”
I stop walking completely and look around. ”There are guards everywhere. Anything you say will go directly back to King Laichnek.”
She scrunches her nose at me in good humor. ”Kairon has bombarded me with questions every chance he”s had since he rose to power. Nothing you ask will be a surprise to him.”
”Okay.”I take a deep breath, the litany of questions swirling in my mind. ”How old are you?”
”It”s hard to know now,”she answers. ”Records have been destroyed and lost so many times, but I remember this very castle being built. I remember it being a beacon of hope for our people, a symbol of peace and collaboration. I was only a child then. My father helped build these walls.”
I nod, amazed but determined to make the best use of our limited time together. ”What”s it like being Fae?”
She chuckles. ”What”s it like being mortal?”For that, I have no answer. ”It”s an impossible question because we both have nothing to compare it to, do we?”
”What”s it like being queen?”
”That”s a better question,”she smooths her dress. ”It is difficult. If I”m being honest, I wouldn”t choose it. But I don”t trust the position to anyone else, and neither do my people. Every choice is criticized, every lover publicized, every mistake maximized. I am never a person, only a queen. So it can be very lonely. But my people need me, so I do it.”
”Who is worse to deal with, Kairon or Colm?”I pry.
At this, she throws her head back into full laughter.
”Kairon is relentless. Always in the pursuit of something, lest he slow down and have to be with his thoughts for too long. But he”s entertaining, at least. His kills are always quite magnificent.”Thinking of his magnificent kill this morning makes my stomach churn. ”Oh, don”t be so uptight. All of us are capable of murder, even you.”
”I don”t think-”
”You are,”she assures me. ”And don”t for one second believe that it”s a bad thing. Being capable of horrors and choosing not to commit them is what makes you good. If you were incapable, you would simply be a weakling.”
”That is oddly reassuring.”I quietly laugh.
Her serene face is so full of kindness and an almost parental indulgence that it”s impossible not to believe every word she says. ”I think you have time for one more question before His Royal Majesty tracks us down.”
I groan. ”Which one?”
”The handsome one,”she teases. ”So ask away.”
I”msurethere area thousand more useful, more profound questionsI could ask, but the only one I can speak aloud is, ”Why did you kiss my hand?Is that a traditional Fae greeting?”
Mischief lights up her face. ”No, sweet girl. I just wanted to see how Kairon would react.”
”Oh.”The layers of enchanted cosmetics on my face are certainly the only thing hiding how red my face is.
”Listen,”she tells me quietly, leaning in to whisperin my ear. ”There”s more you must know. But not here and not now. The king is not the only one with ears in this castle. The two of you need to meet me tonight in the caves where he speaks with the Syren Queen.”
”He knows the-”
Loud footfalls stop my sentence before I can finishit, alerting me to the frightening king storming our way.
”There you are,”he calls, his tone seeming cavalier but the tension in his body decidedly not. ”The witch queens have arrived.”
My jaw drops. Fear and excitement fill mein equal measure, a feeling that is becoming increasingly familiar.
Maren creates space between us, dramatizing the motion. Even through his helm, I know his eyes are glued to her, fury roiling beneath it. She sweeps past him, looking at me over her shoulder to winkonceagain.
Once she”s disappeared around the corner, Kairon sighs. ”You have no sense of self-preservation, do you, my Elva?”
I blink several times, frozen. ”Excuse me?”I finally choke out.
”You run face first into danger without a second thought,”he stalks closer, ”as if you want the pain and torture all of us would inflict on you if given a chance.”
With a scoff, I step toward him, refusing to back down. ”I thought the whole point of this is to create comradery with our neighbors, Your Fucking Majesty.”
”Comradery, yes.”His enraged voice is slightly muffled by the helm, giving it an echo that fills my blood with heat. ”But that does not mean sneaking off into dark corners with every pretty face that beckons you to follow.”
”You seemed quite fond of Maren yourself just this morning,”I remind him. ”But now she”s dangerous?”
I would bet every cent I own that his teeth are grinding together as he takes another giant step forward, close enough that I have to tilt my chinupto look at him. Through the small slits in the helm, I see those haunting, silver eyes full of emotion that he would never admit to.
Desperation fills his voice, twisting the rage into something far scarier. ”She is dangerous, Elva. Don”t you see? All of us are.”
”And I”m not.”I laugh. ”That”s the point you”re making, right? I am some naive little girl in a world full of monsters, and you”re the hero who”s come to protect me?”
His chest brushes mine, the heat through his clothes seeping into me, sending waves of desire through every inch of my body.Desire, anger, fear, and this aching need between my legsI”venever felt before.Not duringany ofmy escapades with others or myself have I felt so empty and needy.
He reaches up with a gloved hand, wrapping it around my throat and forcing me to hold eye contact. ”I am no hero, my Elva. In fact, I am the most villainous, and do you want to know why?”
I can barely breathe, his fingers applying the perfect pressure to make my head spin and my pussy utterly soaked. Oh my god, who am I? I”ve never even thought of using that term.
”Why, Your Majesty?”I put emphasis on the honorific, drawing it out.
”Because the only thing you fear more than me is yourself. And I crave,”he squeezes harder, and I lethim, standing utterly boneless inhisgrip, ”the wicked, depraved parts of you that you want to hide from. I want to spend hours meticulously pulling you apart until you lay bare and utterly exposed just for me. I could spend days exploring you, inside and out, making you just as filthy and vile as I am. And you would beg me to do it over and over again, wouldn”t you, my Elva?”
”No,”I whimper. But even as I say it, I find my hands grabbingathiscloak as if I could pullhimcloser.
He groans, the sound reverberating within his helm. ”Liar.”He releases my throat but makes no move to put any space between us.
”I”m not-”I choke out, unable to continue that thought as he drops to his knees, the wicked mask now looking up at me.
”Tell me something, my sweet liar.”His voice comes out gritty and laced with need. ”Are you wet for me?”
”What?”The whimpered word leaves my throat unbidden.
He chuckles. ”That”s a yes.”
A feather-light touch traverses the skin behind my knee, and I find my voice. ”No, I- I”m not.”
His gloved fingers dance higher, closer to the apex of my thighs, and I”m unable to move, unable to even breathe.
Somewhere in the back of my head, I realize that the gloves are for my benefit, that he remembers me saying I dislike physical contact and is doing what he can to respect that whilealsothoroughly, deliciously disrespecting me.
Then, the ability to think leaves me altogether as he gently moves my underthings to the side. As he drags a finger through the wetness gathering there, I whimper again, gripping his shoulders to keep myself from falling. Only barely does he graze my clit, and my legs shake from the contact. Trying not to make another sound, I bite my bottom lip so hard that the taste of blood gathers on my tongue.
As soon as the contact between my legs begins, it retreats, and a desperate, frustrated moan escapes me.
He stands slowly, watching me all the way, dragging his body against mine until I can feel the evidence of how affected he is pressing against me. Gazes locked together, he swipes that finger across my lip, collecting the blood there and mixing it with the wetness he gathered between my legs.
Before I can stop myself, I lick the mixture from my lips, reveling in the wild, primal, and incredible taste of his leather gloves and metogether.
He lifts his helm with his other hand just enough that I can see as he sticks his finger in his own mouth, thoroughly cleaning me off it as I watch, completely and utterly enraptured.
He groans, the sound so addictive I consider letting him touch me however he pleases as long as he makes it again.
He husks, ”You are so delicious, my beautiful liar.”
I swallow, wholly wrecked by that one little touch. It was both entirely too much and not nearly enough at all. Thenheturns and begins to walk away as if nothing even happened.
I stand,frozen in shock, outraged at him daring to touch me that way.Evenmore outraged that he started this fire within me only to leave it unsated. As he disappears around the corner he calls to me, ”Come along, my Elva.You don”t want to keep the witches waiting.”
Shaking myself from my stupor, I run after him, slowing to a walk once I reach his side, remaining together until we enter the great room. While I see Maren and King Farhan, the witches are nowhere to be found.
”Where are they?”I ask Kairon.
He sighs. ”They”ll make their appearance when they”re ready.”