Page 89 of The Dark Prince
Bennett hid an inappropriate grin but bowed. “Yes, my queen.”
Tyr visibly twitched at hearing that.
I grinned, remembering everything Bennett had just said regarding the succession, as well as how Maddeus and Aella have been absent this entire time.
“Calm down; it will all be alright,” I soothed Tyr, handing him a thin, tin mug of ale that Leif passed to me with a knowing eye. Tyr accepted the mug but glared at it.
I kept my voice as optimistic as possible. “Besides, it’s just until Aella marries Maddeus.”
Tyr cracked the mug in his hands, the ale running through his fingers and pooling into a small puddle on the stone floor.
Thirty Eight
TYR
Isadora ordered someone to clean up the mess I’d made while she literally cleaned up the mess I made.
My wife.
Queen.
I was furious at my father for denying me my birthright, while relieved enough I wasn’t king that I fought back tears. I was aghast Isadora had accepted and was shouldering this burden for me, but so fucking in love with her for loving me enough to try.
I stood like a useless lump as she ordered everyone around with efficiency and grace; as if she’d been raised as a royal.
I knew differently.
“Tyr, while everyone is busy, we must check on Aella. Let the men attend to your father.”
She put her small hand in mine and dragged me after her. It was eerily reminiscent of how I’d dragged her out of her manor and into my life, and if my father wasn’t lying dead just a few rooms away, I would have laughed.
Her face screwed with determination, and I got caught up in admiring her and her strength. What were we doing again?
Right. Aella.
And something about Maddeus. Isadora had said something about him marrying Aella.
I cringed at the dismal state of the west wing as we ascended the stairs and made our way down the old hall. My mother had lived here when she was alive, and after she’d died, I’d barred any of the servants from touching it. Why hadn’t Aella complained? I had to do something about this. I had to fix this wing. I had to fix my room.
I had to leave an Isadora-shaped impression on my mattress.
I shook my head. My disjointed thoughts were all over the place.
Shock, I numbly realized.
Isadora let go of my hand to push open the massive oak door. I blinked, realizing Aella was in my mother’s old chambers.
The door opened, and I took my first step inside in over thirty years. The bed covers weren’t hers, but that was to be expected. Bessy must have borrowed extras to give Aella something soft to sleep in that was moth eaten.
Isadora stopped at the foot of the bed, her hands covering her mouth.
A squeaking sound drew my attention, and I frowned at an unfamiliar serving girl who’d been tidying up in the corner. Her jaw dropped open and her eyes watched me with fear, and I almost moved in reflex to cover my face.
Almost.
I wasn’t afraid of letting others see it, anymore. If they were frightened, then they would be frightened. It wasn’t on me.
I kept my hands at my sides and shifted my attention to Aella. I dumbly remembered the witch had disfigured her face, but this was the first opportunity I had to study it.
