Chapter Two #2
“You speak the truth to hurt me, to remind me of my status as an outcast, yet ask me if I think I am worthy of your son and your Court? It was you that brought me here; it was you that made that damn Oath that binds us all to our misery. And it was you that branded me like a possession for all to see.”
I’m shocked at my outburst, and another wave of panic crashes over me.
“Ah, there she is!” he roars, his fist coming down with a crack on the wooden table, cutlery and plates rattling. “There is the feisty woman I was promised. I do like this version much better than all that obedience and meekness crap. So much like that bitch of a mother of yours.”
“W-what …” I stammer, my lower lip trembling violently for a fraction of a second, but then I clamp down my jaw with painful force, the muscles locking tight.
“She was always game for a good sparring, vicious yet sensual. I liked her before she met that weak arse father of yours. What a waste!” he continues with a slow, controlled curve to his mouth that reveals only the very tip of a canine tooth.
The expression settles on his face, fixed and cruel, a silent proclamation that he was utterly unconcerned with the ensuing consequences.
I am losing control.
A white-hot fury, melting through my thick stone barriers. A tremor shudders from head to toe, my fists clenched so tight in my lap under the table I feel the painful dig of my nails into the palms.
I’m getting too hot, rivulets of moisture rolling down the bare skin at my back.
I need air.
I need to get away from him.
Through the hazy fog of heat, I suddenly feel a cold, strong hand on my shoulder, breaking my terror like shattering ice.
“Looks like an interesting conversation over here,” Prince Kiernan says, his other arm lying across the high back of my chair, looming above me.
“Experiencing your future wife’s riveting conversational skills for myself. A real eye-opener.” He raises one dark brow towards me and then looks back to his son. “Did you manage to smooth things over with the Court?”
“Yes, Father, everyone has calmed down, although I do believe the Fae Wine did a far better job at that than I did. Old Gafin Lark downed so much he invited the General’s wife to sit on his lap and talk about what pops up first,” my chair jerking with his amusement as he laughs behind me.
“That is all well then. Though you both must make more effort to cultivate advantageous relationships and alliances with these Fae, your successful reign may one day depend on them. True rule and power rely on a loyal and compliant stage on which to stand.” King Malaxor folds himself up from the chair the way a feline might after a long afternoon basking in the sun.
He motions for me to stand with a wave and clears his throat loudly enough to make everyone in the hall turn and go instantly silent.
When King Malaxor needs your attention, it is given without hesitation.
“Thank you for all coming tonight. I know this is not our usual relaxed affair, so please, continue to enjoy you’re evening as you wish.
You will notice the Thorn Guards are in attendance, as they will be during any Royal Court gathering for now.
As ever, keeping those within these walls safe is a matter of our survival I do not take lightly.
“Yet to balance this news, I would like to remind everyone of the upcoming wedding in three weeks of our Prince and heir, Kiernan Steel, to my ward, Alaya Morigan. We also have their Commitment Ball I’m sure you will enjoy, though I’ve been warned to keep the Fae Wine barrels away from some of you.
“You are all dismissed. Stay and continue the hospitality if you wish, but I must take my leave.” He finishes with a flourish.
The room erupts into a mixture of worried and excited chatter as King Malaxor sweeps back from the table and starts striding towards a small door to the left of the raised area.
As he passes me, he quickly bobs his head down to whisper into my ear.
“I require your presence in my personal office no later than nine o’clock tomorrow evening. Don’t be late, Alaya; you know how much I enjoy punishment.”
Before I can barely register his words, he is gone in a waft of intense power and shadows.
Walking back to my suite, Prince Kiernan has started quizzing me on what his father and I discussed while he was off charming the Court.
“What do you mean you just talked about ‘court politics’? What do you know about it?” Prince Kiernan sneers.
He really hates not knowing everything, and his mocking tone only stokes that primal part of me that enjoys his torment.
“Perhaps he’s interested in what I have to say, my Prince,” I shoot back.
I hear him suck in a quick, irritated breath. He also hates that I still refuse to call him just Kiernan.
“He has more sense than to seek advice from an uneducated Desolate on anything remotely important to our kingdom.” His words sting—twice today I’ve been reminded of my Desolate state.
“Gods, what do you care anyway? You seemed to be having the time of your life handshaking and leering over the wives all evening. You left me alone with him up there. You know full well that’s not a good idea.”
“Jealous there, Little Princess?” He smirks, gloating. “Want me to invite one back for a threesome?”
“You’re disgusting,” I throw back, grabbing the banister and starting up the grand staircase with him following behind. When I glance back, he’s staring right at my rear.
“And you, my dear, are a tiringly virtuous little thing, aren’t you? The world is far more delicious when you’re willing to live a little.”
“Believe what you like. It’s the closest you’ll ever get to the truth of me.
” We reach the landing, my suite on the left and his down the hall to the right.
“You don’t need to walk me all the way. I’m sure there’s a long queue of Fae just waiting for their turn to be exhausted by your princely charms.”
He smiles then, ramming me with his shoulder. I lurch—only my hip colliding painfully with the banister post stops me from tumbling back down the stairs.
“Three weeks, Alaya,” he drawls, raising his dark brows over his deep green eyes, glinting with mischief. “In twenty-one days, I’ll be busy stripping those lies away, along with that dress.”
“After your father asked me if I thought I was worthy of you, and I told him it was tough if I wasn’t—that it was his fault—perhaps he’ll break the Oath anyway and give us all a break,” I snap, forgetting myself, as I turn to leave.
His features instantly darken and tighten. “You said what?”
The words are barely out before he seizes me by the arm, spinning me hard into his chest. His other hand clamps around my opposite arm, pinning me in place. I can feel the heat radiating off him, see the muscle ticking in his jaw.
“Your idiocy is going to be the ruin of us both!” His voice is low, dangerous. “You know what he’s like. You’ve been warned repeatedly not to antagonise him.” His grip tightens, fingers digging into my flesh. “Is that why you looked ready to rip his throat out when I came back?”
I try to pull away, but he holds me fast, and for the first time tonight, I see something flicker behind his eyes that isn’t mockery or cruelty—it’s fear.
“This isn’t a game anymore, Alaya.” He shakes me once, hard enough that my teeth click together. “If you let your guard down with him, he will destroy you, and until we’re married, I can’t—”
He stops abruptly, the unfinished sentence hanging between us like a confession he didn’t mean to make. Tension streams from him in waves. Then he shoves me away as if I’ve burned him, blows out an exasperated breath, and runs his fingers through his ruffled hair.
I’m so stunned I don’t know what to say. I just stand there taking small, shallow breaths.
“Just go.” His voice is rough, stripped of its usual arrogance. “And hope he doesn’t take your outburst as fuel to interfere any more than he does now. I’ll go see him and try to fix this mess.”
He jogs back down the stairs and disappears into the dark halls.
As I turn and resume my climb, I’m glad I didn’t tell him about King Malaxor’s mysterious request to meet me tomorrow night.