Page 27 of The Ruthless Fae King
Marcelle looked annoyed but brushed it off. “Princess Madelynn, a pleasure.” He bowed to me, his earlier flirtiness gone. He wouldn’t dare try that in front of Lucien. “Come have a seat, let’s celebrate your betrothal.” Marcelle pointed to two empty chairs at the main table in the middle of the room.
There were seven tables in all, each one holding ten to twenty people. The tables were filled with an assortment of food and drink and everyone was chatting animatedly. I was shocked he’d been able to put on such a large dinner last minute.
“I would like a third seat for my lady-in-waiting.” I gestured to Piper, who stood beside me. She hated these events and she would kill me if I forced her to sit all night next to a bunch of people she didn’t know.
“Of course.” Prince Marcelle kindly asked a woman to move seats, and then Lucien, Piper, and I took our chairs.
Lucien sat at the head of the table, a place protocol dictated he take. I sat to his left, with Piper next to me, and Marcelle sat to his right across from me.
We were served an elegant meal of glazed duck and roasted yams, but it was hard for me to enjoy the food. I kept sneaking nervous glances at Lucien, wondering when he was going to give his public apology. If he was nervous, it didn’t show. He sat with a straight back, gazing stonily at the people around him with little emotion.
“When is the wedding?” Marcelle asked.
Lucien’s gaze flicked to the Summer prince. “Well now, that depends on if I have to deal with your little separation, now doesn’t it?” Lucien said under his breath, just loud enough for Marcelle and I to hear.
Marcelle popped a chunk of sweet potato into his mouth and chewed, watching Lucien like a hawk watched a snake. “Oh, you will have to deal with it. Quite soon too. But I hope we can remain allies—”
Lucien’s dinner fork stabbed his yam violently, causing the plate to crack in half. He let go of the handle, the fork sticking up straight as people looked over at him to see what the commotion was about.
Lucien then leaned forward, into Marcelle. “You will separate my kingdom over my dead body, Marcelle.”
Marcelle grinned. “That can be arranged too.”
I gasped at the treasonous comment. The temperature in the room dropped suddenly.
No. No. No.
This wasn’t going to endear the Summer people to the winter king. Reaching under the table, I dragged my hand across Lucien’s thigh and squeezed it. The coldness in the air left us quickly and he turned to face me.
“Is there something you wanted to say, sugar plum?” he asked sweetly.
Marcelle glared at Lucien and the endearing way in which he spoke to me.
“Actually, I thought now might be a good time for you to give a speech. It’s been a long time since the people of Summer have seen their king.” I gave a nervous laugh.
Now or never. He needed to apologize or we were better off leaving the dinner early. I pleaded with him with my eyes, then a warm hand brushed over mine, reminding me that I was still clutching his thigh. His fingers stroked the top of mine and I forgot to breathe. Releasing his thigh, I pulled my hand back, swallowing hard, and Lucien grinned.
Clearing his throat, he stood and grabbed his spoon, clanging it against his glass. Everyone quieted, looking over at him.
My hands reached under the table to find Piper’s and we clutched each other tightly, knowing what was coming.
Lucien gave a winning smile to the room, which only increased his handsomeness, and cleared his throat. “Thank you to Prince Haze and the people of Summer Court for celebrating my betrothal to Princess Madelynn.”
Everyone clapped politely and then went back to eating. Lucien cleared his throat louder and everyone quieted again, looking over at him with furrowed brows. Lucien gazed at me. “My future queen has already made a lasting impression on me and made me want to be a better man. To right my wrongs…” he said, and my heart constricted. Piper squeezed my hand and I gripped hers right back.
Who knew that Lucien Thorne would be the most romantic man I’d ever met?
“The truth is, I made a mistake in being silent and staying away all these years since the Great Freeze,” he stated, and people started to murmur to each other.
“What is he doing?” Marcelle whispered to me. I ignored him.
“I made a mistake,” Lucien said. “It was an accident that I greatly regret. Not a night passes that I don’t have to live with the remorse. I am sorry.” He held his hand over his heart and glanced out at the room. Tears filled my eyes at his heartfelt apology. It was much more than I had expected and anyone could see how genuine it was.
The murmurs grew louder, and finally an older woman stood and pointed at him. “Accidents with controlling your magic happen, but you didn’t even send a letter explaining why. I buried my husband,” she roared, “and now I have to bow to his killer just because he is my king!”
I gasped at the woman’s sharp words. Lucien flinched as if they’d cut him. A few others murmured their agreements, and pretty soon the entire room was shouting at the king.
Oh Maker, this was not what I’d intended.
