Chapter 21
Arina
Once aboard the ship, the monster inside me grows angrier and more unruly when the beautiful woman embraces Raiden, kissing him on the cheek in greeting.
When they finally let go of each other, and Raiden has finished a quick appraisal of her perfect, glowing body wrapped in a tan garment that’s embellished with gold and accentuates her hips in a way that's almost sinful, he turns to pull me forward.
“This is Arina Chiron.” The woman's blush-pink lips twitch, and it makes me painfully self-conscious.
“Arina,” Raiden says softly, as if he's trying not to anger the animal within me that feels cornered and ready to pounce at the slightest indication of a threat. “This is Lavinia, daughter of King Gideon and Queen Kyrrah, and princess of Clestraya.”
Thank the gods my body moves automatically, curtseying as I start to put things together in my mind.
Princess Lavinia wraps her arms around my shoulders while practically squealing with startling glee.
“It is so wonderful to meet you!” She holds me at arm's length and looks me up and down.
"Oh, you poor thing. You look absolutely wretched. Let me take you to my room and get you cleaned up.” She's dragging me, and I don't dare argue, but I give Raiden a look that I hope says, “What the fuck? Help me!”
“Livvy, I don't know if …” he starts, and why does him calling her by a nickname send a pang to my chest?
“Nonsense. She's coming with me. You want to clean up and put something a little more comfortable on, don't you, Arina?” she asks, but it's not a question.
I look back to Raiden for something. Anything.
He just lifts his shoulders apologetically.
I don't know much about interacting with royalty, but I don't dare defy her.
“Don't worry. Raiden can find us some treats while we have a little girl time,” she tells me, tugging me forward insistently.
She is oddly kind for someone who just found her fiancé in a boat with a strange woman. Maybe too kind. I don't think I'm in any danger. Raiden would have stepped in if I were. Wouldn't he?
I know nothing of other kingdoms and their customs, but it doesn't make sense for him to go through all the trouble of keeping me alive just to let his fiancée murder me. But maybe that was his plan all along. Maybe I'm a wedding gift.
My mind is running away, sending me flashes of the different ways this beautiful fae might end my life. But she doesn't.
She drags me across the glimmering deck of the ship. From this height, I can see the ocean on all sides, going on forever. We pass a couple of crew members, one of whom is flying, hovering from place to place like it's nothing.
I don't have time to gawk because Lavinia pulls me through a door and into her lavish room.
She draws me a warm bath in her tub, filling it with oils I've never smelled in my life. They bring me a sense of serenity as I rinse away the salt that's dried on my skin and in my hair. She is being so nice, and I almost feel guilty for the seed of hate sprouting in my soul.
Lavinia chatters at me from the other side of the slatted wooden partition as I bathe and then change into the dress she's provided me with.
She could be spilling her deepest, darkest secrets, and I would never know because I cannot hear a word she's saying.
I'm too distracted, too overwhelmed by everything, to make sense of her.
The clothes are loose and flowy, and unlike anything I'm used to wearing. The peach material is so light that I feel exposed when I step out from behind the divider.
She clasps her hands together in front of her. “You look amazing!” Somehow her words don't make me feel any better.
I give her a small smile. “Thank you.”
Lavinia's face has sympathy written all over it, and I think she might finally be about to tell me to stay away from her man, but I try to beat her to it.
I want to explain myself. Tell her that I actually hate her fiancée, and give her all the reasons why, which includes him never once mentioning he was engaged.
“I didn't reali—"
“You must be so tired,” she interrupts, and I nod. “Here, rest in my bed.” She leads me to the large, plush bed and untucks the blankets, gesturing for me to climb in.
“I couldn't,” I protest, but she puts her fingers to my lips to stop me.
“Shh. Raiden and I have some business to discuss, and I'm a princess. You are forbidden to tell me no.” She puts her hands on her hips until I climb into her bed, and oh my gods, it is the most comfortable thing I have ever touched.
The cool silk fabric against my warmed skin is soothing, and I don't want to upset her by arguing.
“Very good. Don't worry, I'm sure Raiden won't let you out of his sight for long.” She winks at me, and then she's out the door. She is undoubtedly the strangest female I have ever encountered, and I don’t trust her for a second.
My stomach chooses this moment to remind me that all I've had to eat the last few days is a couple of apples, and Lavinia had sent Raiden to bring us food, which he never procured.
The last thing I want to do is get out of this skiesblessed bed, so I try to endure the empty cavern that is my demanding stomach.
It's not like I haven't gone to bed hungry before, but for some reason it's harder knowing there is food readily available.
And after a while, I recognize that without food, I will not be sleeping.
I don't bother with shoes, thinking I'll quickly track down some small snack and head right back down to sleep in the world's most comfortable bed. But I do strap my dagger to my thigh, just in case. The slit in my dress goes almost to my hip, which means I can easily access the dagger if needed.
What I don't expect to find is the princess and the rebel discussing their business out in the open.
They're huddled next to a pile of crates.
Lavinia sits on one, while Raiden has a foot propped up on another, leaning above her.
A smile crinkles his eyes, and she throws her head back in a melodious laugh that drifts on the wind to me.
Something in me snaps at the sight of them. And then his eyes flit to mine, and his smile fades.
I can't catch my breath. My muscles tighten, and the ache in my chest coupled with the nagging hunger pangs is impossible to ignore.
I don't think I've ever truly been jealous of anyone in my life.
At least, not for romantic reasons. Or maybe not romance, but attraction?
I don't know. But I think that's what this is.
All I do know is that for some godsdamned reason, I would kill for him to look at me even a fragment as kindly as he was just looking at her.
I turn and run back to Lavinia's room, frustrated at the foolish tears that are stinging my eyes and threatening to fall.
I flop down onto the bed and allow myself to cry. My body shakes with the sobs. I'm lying on my side, facing away from the door, when I hear it creak open.
“Arina.” His voice saying my name is like a dream and a nightmare rolled together.
“Go away,” I croak, the words wet from crying. Tears that I don't even understand. Just days ago, I was planning my escape from him. And now? Now I don't fucking know what. I like him? I've never harbored feelings for any male like this. Never been jealous if a male I liked wanted another.
It's as though my feelings don't belong to me, and it pisses me off. Never in my life have I had feelings this deep for anyone. I don’t know how to deal with them. Don’t know how to stop them.
“Can't do that,” he says, and the bed sinks where he sits down next to me. “There is a lot we need to discuss.”
Right. Now he wants to talk.
“Pretty fucking convenient,” I whisper into the pillow.
“What was that?”
I heave my shoulders with a hard sigh and then sit up. “I said, it's pretty fucking convenient that you want to talk now. About more tangible things than a necromancer stuck in the fucking stars.”
He covers his mouth with a fist to hide his smirk. “I deserve that.”
“So … you're engaged. To the princess of Clestraya.” I want him to tell me I heard it all wrong, and it was all just a nasty trick they like to play on newcomers.
“I am, but let me explain.” Godsdamnit. A new wave of tears threatens to spill over, and I fall backward into the cloud-like pillow that I had discovered is stuffed with feathers of some sort instead of the pokey straw we use in our pillows back home.
“You do not have to explain anything to me,” I say, but inside I'm screaming. I want answers.
“Part of the reason the king and queen allowed me to go back to Lukasia was under the condition that when the curse ends, and I take back the kingdom, I would marry their daughter. Unite the kingdoms.”
“Unite the …” Of course. I am so fucking stupid. He's a godsdamned prince. He can't be with anyone below his station.
“This marriage is the only way Clestraya will send their army to fight alongside The Rhiza. We need them if we are going to stand a chance in this war.” Oh. Oh.
I nod, understanding. A marriage of political strategy. It's bullshit, but I understand being desperate enough to save your people that you're willing to agree to anything.
“You don't … love her?” I don't want to know the answer, and sweat pricks my forehead in anticipation of his next words.
A weak smile plays on his lips. “Everything I've had planned for my life has been excruciatingly unraveled by your existence.”
I am markedly aware that he has not answered my question.
“I do.” It's like a blade to my heart. But then he says, “Like a sister. We grew up together, and she is a worthy ally. I am lucky to have her on my side.”
Right. “I think I need some air.” I roll out of bed and run for the door. The golden rays of the setting sun hurt my eyes, and I don't think I'll ever get used to it.