Page 49 of The Ruthless Fae King
We were still alone. Doors closed. Fire roaring.
“But… Marcelle could find you.” She looked terrified.
I nodded, grasping her hand and holding her gaze. “What I’m telling you is that I would rather die than stay here and play wife and queen to that monster.”
She swallowed hard, and I watched the pulse in her neck sputter erratically.
She frowned. “Well, I don’t want you to die.”
That was good. I patted her hand. “Then when the time comes, if you assist in my breaking free from here, I will richly reward you.”
I would force my father to pay her whatever she wanted.
She looked over at me then, studying my face. “Did you love him?” she asked suddenly.
I was confused by her question for a second, thinking she meant Marcelle, but her use of the past tense let me know who she was talking about.
Lucien.
“Yes. My father and I gave Lucien my word that I would marry him. And then Marcelle took that from me. Forever.”
The finality of it killed me. Kings didn’t marry defiled women. Nor divorced. Nor widows. Or even a woman with a scandal to their name. You must be perfect to be queen and I was not. Even if Lucien wanted to still be with me, he couldn’t. It would tarnish his entire lineage and any children we had.
“That’s not right. I’m so sorry,” Birdie stated, and we ate the rest of our meal in silence.
I spent the afternoon rotating between walks in the garden with Birdie and reading in my room by the fire. It was positively frigid outside. A fine layer of snow had built up and wasn’t melting off. I knew Lucien could kill the entire Summer Court by freezing us all to death and he was holding back.
I had to hope it was because he didn’t want to hurt me.
* * *
That night,Marcelle was back from whatever frontline meeting he’d gone to. He had us served dinner right up next to the fire, but even so there was a chill in the air. It was as if Lucien’s power had the ability to penetrate walls and was seeking the palace. Oh how I wished I had full use of my power. Even without an open window I could move the air around a room. That’s usually what I used if I needed to break a window and then gain access to the unlimited air outside. I looked down at my cuffed wrists and frowned. Had I ever gone this long without using my power? We were encouraged growing up to use our power all the time because it helped us harness and control it. We would pass the salt at the dinner table with wind power or make paper flutter across the room. I was one of the most powerful fae alive and I’d been reduced to a dud.
Nothing.
I glared at Marcelle across the small table that had been set next to the fireplace as he tore into his stew like a slob. How he was raised a noble was beyond me. I hadn’t asked him about war news and he didn’t offer. I did not want to seem too eager to receive word about Lucien, but I was dying to know anything at all.
Marcelle’s head started to move upward to gaze at me and so I dropped the glare and gave him what I hoped was an inquisitive look.
“Would you like to share the bed tonight?” he asked. “It will keep us both warmer.” His eyes were hooded and I couldn’t help the small tic of my muscles in reaction, but I prayed he didn’t notice the visceral response my body was having to that question.
“I’m on my monthly.” I grabbed my stomach, feigning embarrassment.
Thank the Maker for Birdie and her great idea.
He inclined his head. “I know. It would just be to share warmth. I promise.”
No. No. No. Having him hold me all night long would drive me to insanity. I wanted to cut his manhood off for how crudely he’d taken my purity. My mother had told me that even in an arranged marriage the husband would be patient with the consummation, especially the first time. That it would be slightly awkward and might be over quickly but never rough or scary. Marcelle had scared me. He was too rough and what he’d done waswrong. I might not know a lot about lying with a man but I knew that. But I also needed out of here. I needed him to trust me enough to give me access to my power. Maybe this was how.
I had hesitated too long and now he was looking at me skeptically. I had to let a little bit of the truth leak into my answer or he would know I was lying. “You scared me with your eagerness when we… bedded. Excuse me for being nervous to be alone with you in bed. I’d never been with a man before, so I’m… shy and unsure how this part should unfold in a marriage.”
His face lightened and he reached out to take my hand. “I’m sorry I was too eager. I thought you would try to back out of the agreement and I just wanted it done. I’ll be slower next time and you’ll enjoy it.”
Unbridled rage built up inside of me then, mixed with nausea. He had no clue. I hated him. I wanted him dead. The thought of him touching me again made me grip the meat knife in my fist, but I forced myself to relax my fingers. “If it’s just to keep each other warm, I think I would like that,” I lied, trying to make my voice timid and not as murderous as I felt.
If he tried anything I wasn’t comfortable with, I’d just have to resort to trying to strangle him and hope that I was stronger than him in that moment.
I let out a yawn. “I’m tired now. I’ll retire to your room and you can join me later?”
