Chapter 5

Back in Amarald a few mornings later, I strolled towards the Royal Dining Room where Eliasson and I religiously had breakfast together each day – the unfortunate result of my negotiating no night-time Dom engagements unless it’s unavoidable.

It was necessary, Eliasson told me, for Arlom royalty to be seen as a united front to their people, hence breakfast in the official dining room rather than the private one in our apartments. Although this made perfect sense, it was a far cry from how my parents and the generations before them ruled. The king took care of affairs, and the queen was merely a figurehead, ready to serve at the king’s beck and call. It was a transactional relationship to produce heirs. Nothing more, nothing less.

In contrast, Eliasson insisted on my presence at all meetings, often asking for my opinion while openly collaborating with his most trusted advisors. He encouraged me to take the contraceptive remedy, wanting to get to know me first and eventually mutually agree before commencing efforts to produce an heir. It has only been the last few months where my scepticism subsided and I finally accepted this was, indeed, Arloman culture. The men were firm but fair, the women respected and with an equal seat at the table. The similarities with the culture of the Solista Isles were unmistakeable. It’s quite ironic, really, that the latter is ruled by Salistya, whose culture is basically the polar opposite.

I stepped into the obnoxiously-sized room, which never ceased to amaze me. The high ceiling was a single, big piece of glass that allowed natural sunlight to brighten the whole room. In the corner was a stage with a piano and a variety of string instruments, neatly placed alongside a dance floor, often used when noble guests visited the palace. In the middle of the room was a long, twenty-seater table, unsurprisingly fit for royalty.

Making my way towards the head of the table where Eliasson sat, I noted his eyes travelling up and down my body, taking in the plunging neckline of my silk slip dress. His eyes widened with desire as they zoned in on my left thigh peeking out of the high slit in the dress as I walked. His lips twitched in obvious approval.

The revealing Arlom dress code was yet another assimilatory hurdle I had overcome, albeit quickly due to the warm climate of the Kingdom – not to mention, the Isles had done a good job of stripping away my former prudish Salistyan ways. The looks of appreciation from Eliasson when I dressed like this were an additional motivator, working as another tool in my arsenal.

Stopping to his left, and purely to stoke the fires of his desire – not at all because I enjoyed toying with him, of course – I leant in to place a lingering kiss on his lips, one hand resting on his chest and the other cupping his jaw. Eliasson kissed me back and traced his hand up my thigh to toy with the slit of my dress, teasing my skin while his other hand came to squeeze my right butt cheek.

A throat clearing brought us back down to earth.

Pulling away, I mustered all my seductive prowess to purr, ‘Good morning, husband,’ as I blatantly ignored the other presence in the room. Eliasson’s blue eyes darkened, and a firm squeeze of my butt cheek confirmed the effect I had on him.

‘Good morning, wife,’ he responded, his voice deep.

With a smug look, I stepped out of his reach and sat beside him. My eyes lit up at the cup of coffee ready for me. Bringing it to my mouth, my eyes closed, and a satisfied moan escaped my lips at the glorious taste.

A familiar groan was released nearby. Fluttering my eyes open, I met heated eyes watching my every move, Eliasson’s teeth biting into his lower lip in undisguised lust. The look made my insides stir. Okay, maybe I wasn’t as unaffected by him as I thought I was. Let’s blame that on the lack of climactic release a few nights ago.

Before I could tease any further, the person sitting next to Eliasson who I had chosen to ignore until now decided to ruin the fun.

‘One would think you hadn’t just spent the last twelve hours together,’ Fyrel muttered, shaking his head in exasperation.

Interesting. He didn’t know that Eliasson and I had separate quarters.

‘One would think you wouldn’t chase a Salistyan maid around like a smitten pubescent teen. But hey, different strokes for different folks, am I right?’ I shot back sweetly, pleasantly smiling at Eliasson’s Second and royal pain-in-my-ass best friend.

‘How do you – ’

‘I know everything,’ I cut him off. ‘Although you have an incessant need to think otherwise, I’m not just a pretty face.’ I levelled him with a stare that, had he or anyone else outside of Salistya and the Isles known about magic, let alone that I wielded it, would have him quaking in his boots.

Fyrel scoffed. ‘Self-proclaimed pretty face, sweetheart.’ His eyes lingered on mine, unsubtly gawping at their unique colouring.

‘Fyrel,’ Eliasson interrupted, a warning evident in his tone.

‘Oh no, it’s fine Eliasson.’ I waved my hand, dismissing the interruption, turning my attention back to Fyrel. ‘No offense taken. Besides, I’m aware of his type, very different to me. The type, might I caution, that if he were to ever hurt in any way, shape, or form, would result in him having a little taste of my Solistan training. Friendly tip: not recommended.’ I pasted on an innocent smile.

Fyrel’s blue eyes narrowed, seeing the less than subtle threat for what it was.

Taking his silence as acknowledgement, I clapped in mock celebration. ‘Excellent!’ False excitement was thick in my voice. ‘I love how we understand each other, it really does warm the cockles of my heart.’ I sighed wistfully, curling my finger around a lock of hair.

It’s really no surprise Fyrel can’t stand me. In all honesty, I stopped caring early on into my marriage when I realised his scepticism towards me would never waver. Which, considering my intentions to Eliasson are less than desirable, I can’t really blame him. Mer claims he’s not that bad. I guess I’ll have to take her word for it, because winding up Fyrel is one of my favourite pastimes and the greatest source of entertainment I have in Amarald. I won’t be giving it up any time soon.

Eliasson’s chuckle cut through the stare off between Fyrel and me. He was completely unfazed that his wife and best friend refused to be amicable. ‘Never a dull moment with you two around.’ He shook his head. ‘However, Fyrel, I intend to spend the whole day with my lovely wife, so please, talk to us about the important information that couldn’t wait.’

I couldn’t help exploiting Fyrel’s disdain for Eliasson and I spending extended amounts of time together. My impulsive need to rub salt into Fyrel’s wounds took over. ‘Yes, Fyrel,’ I crooned, ‘what exactly are you doing here?’

Fyrel went to respond but was cut off by three attendants placing a plate of food in front of each of us.

The smell of bacon and eggs attacked my senses, my eyes finding Rynelle’s as he leant over and placed the plate in front of me. Strategically blocking Eliasson and Fyrel’s view to me, he dropped a slip of paper into my lap with a warning look. I subtly moved the paper under the table before visualising the drawer of erotic novels back in my quarters. Holding onto that vision, the paper left my hand, teleported to the desired location.

The attendants returned to the kitchens, leaving the three of us alone in the dining room once more. Momentarily forgetting there was a reason for company, a comfortable silence fell on the room, broken only by the clanging of cutlery as we enjoyed breakfast.

After a few minutes, Fyrel leaned back into his chair and placed his hands behind the back of his head, elbows wide. I supressed the urge to roll my eyes at his obnoxious stance.

‘I received correspondence in the early hours of the morning from the Kingdom of Marlyst, confirming their attendance at the Royal Forum. We had already received confirmation from both Salistya and Nyarelle months ago, so this was the final piece,’ Fyrel reported.

‘That’s interesting. I was convinced we would have to push this one back, given the untimely passing of the King,’ Eliasson mused.

‘You and me both.’ Fyrel nodded. ‘Having said that, the coronation was held a couple of weeks after his passing. Clearly, the new King doesn’t like to waste any time. My sources confirmed this is a tendency of his. I’m intrigued to understand his motivations for this swiftness so the Forum will be rather telling.’

A coronation within a couple of weeks? That was even quicker than Slaviya’s, and the speed of hers had been fuelled by her need for total control. She really was a carbon copy of Father. For the millionth time, a wave of relief washed over me knowing Dwyla was far away from the witch. For now, at least.

Fyrel was right, though. The King’s motivations were intriguing. I made a mental note to partake in some old-school late-night spying when the Marlyst King was in Amarald.

‘Rather telling, indeed,’ Eliasson agreed, before moving his attention back to me. ‘I want the Marlyst representatives’ quarters next to ours. This way, it’ll be easier to invite them to our quarters for informal meetings to gain a better understanding of their motivations. What do you think?’

Despite how often he considers and asks for my opinion, I am often still startled by it. I guess you can take the girl out of Salistya, but you can’t always take the Salistya out of the girl.

Turning to him, I responded. ‘I have no issues with that, however, I would like to politely remind you of our ongoing agreement in relation to night-time activities.’

Fyrel raised an eyebrow, clearly having not been briefed on our agreement and thinking the worst. ‘Seriously, Valare? You can’t keep it in your pants for a couple of weeks?’

An amused smile and blasé shrug of my shoulders was the only response I gave him. Eliasson meanwhile let out a growl. ‘Fyrel, what Valare does and does not do with her pants is no one’s concern but my own.’

Oh Goddess, why did the hint of possessiveness just do something to my insides, even coming from Eliasson?

This is all your fault. Sir’s voice rang in my ears. I subtly shook my head, releasing those thoughts from my mind.

‘Now that that’s sorted,’ Eliasson continued, ‘Fyrel, since it’s only two weeks away, I’ll leave you to communicate to the wider Kingdom that the dates have been confirmed. My darling Valare, will I leave it to you to discuss arrangements with Meredith for the other royal quarters?’ It wasn’t missed by either Fyrel or I that his direction was an order and mine was a question.

I shot Fyrel a triumphant, taunting smile. ‘Of course, darling, I can take care of that. Unless, of course, you’d like to Fyrel?’ I replied innocently. ‘I know how much you love being on top of all things Meredith.’ My smile turned into a full, wicked grin.

‘Valare,’ Eliasson cautioned.

‘Fuck you and your smart-ass mouth, Valare,’ Fyrel raged, giving into his frustration and cutting off what was most definitely going to be Eliasson telling me off. But I didn’t care. I had won this round.

‘Sorry, Fyrel, but you’re just not my type, sweetie. But then again, the feeling’s mutual, isn’t it?’ I threw him a wink. Before he could respond, I continued. ‘You seem so touchy about this subject, Fyrel, so don’t worry your pretty little head. I’ll have a chat to Meredith.’ The emphasis on touchy did not go unnoticed.

He released a deep, frustrated breath. Rage shimmered in his eyes. Damn, classic Meredith. Always drawn to the high-strung ones I loved to poke at.

‘I don’t know how you put up with that little wench. Twenty minutes in her company is twenty minutes too long, as far as I’m concerned,’ Fyrel said, deciding to ignore me and talking directly to Eliasson.

I cupped my mouth like a megaphone. ‘For the record, you grumpy bastard, I can hear you.’

Eliasson simply laughed. ‘If you two weren’t so entertaining, I think twenty minutes watching this back and forth would be too long for me. Anything else to report?’

‘No, that was all. Am I dismissed? It doesn’t matter how good this breakfast is, it’s not worth it to be in her company for a minute longer,’ Fyrel complained.

I rolled my eyes. So damn dramatic.

‘Yes, Fyrel, you’re dismissed,’ Eliasson conceded.

Without a second glance, Fyrel was up and out of the room before you could say small dick energy.

I released a snicker, unable to hold it back any longer. Honestly, if the guy hadn’t been such an outright dick to me since I got here, I might have felt bad. Okay, let’s be honest, probably not. But I do enjoy that he can’t completely hate me because of both Eliasson and now Meredith. It feels good holding the trump card, and even better that he knows I do.

‘Valare,’ Eliasson started.

I cut him off. ‘Eliasson, we have two options here. Now, I’m going to preface this by saying I much prefer the second option.’

He stared at me, waiting, amusement in his eyes and fighting off a smile.

‘One, you tell me again why I should be nice to him and how the only way to rebuild a relationship – which would require a relationship in the first place – is to be the bigger person and show kindness, so that kindness would eventually be shown in return. Which, knowing both mine and Fyrel’s personalities, we would both rather walk over hot coals between Amarald and the Solista Isles than do that.’

Eliasson opened his mouth to respond, but I raised a finger to silence him.

‘Option two,’ I continued, ‘You remember the feelings I stirred in you when I walked through the door today, add a dash of your exasperation towards me for being the gorgeous, irritatingly witty specimen that I am, and take me back to our quarters before we carry on with our day.’

By the time I’d finished my proposition, Eliasson’s eyes had zeroed in on my left thigh which I had subtly crossed over my right to reveal a healthy amount of skin.

With a rough clearing of his throat, Eliasson came over and scooped me up into his arms. I released a surprised shriek, throwing my arms around his neck before he dove in to place a scorching kiss on my lips.

‘I think the second option will suffice for today,’ he said, before heading out of the dining room towards our quarters.

My laugh followed us throughout the palace, the picture of Eliasson moving swiftly with me in his arms enough to stop workers from their tasks. My gaze collided with three familiar, mossy green sets of eyes as we passed. Two of them held a mix of wariness and understanding, but the last set of eyes ... My laugh stumbled for a split second before I forced myself to continue like nothing had happened. The sweep of his fringe partly covering those eyes didn’t hide the defeated, possessive look or the more than a flicker of anger there.

Closing my eyes, I turned my head towards Eliasson, burrowing into his neck and pushing all other thoughts other than the feeling of him away. I had a role to play as the Queen of Arlom, and no one could argue I wasn’t playing my part well.

After all, he was falling right into the trap.