Chapter 66

"So what do I…?"

My voice failed me as I scanned the room, catching the people chatting over glasses of wine, then their glances my way. They were all so… casual about what was supposed to happen. Would they allow their daughters to flip her skirts and bare herself before all of them? My cheeks burned hot, and tears clogged my eyes, right before Sister Selene took my hand in hers. It was cool, her grip firm and she leaned in closer to answer me.

"I can shield you as much as possible from the room," she said in a low voice. "It's why we wear such voluminous robes. It's not a lot of privacy, but it's something."

"Of course." I nodded far too sharply. "Thank you."

"I'm hoping my brother will arrive before we get too far with this."

"Silas?" I gazed into her eyes, the similarity between the two of them startling.

"Silas," she agreed. "But failing that, is there anything I need to know?"

My mother used to use the same gentle tone when trying to get me to confess to a crime, rather than have it wrung from me. I stared into Selene's eyes and shook my head, just as I had my mother. I didn't know exactly what my maidenhead was, nor whether I'd tarnished it completely, cavorting with my guards as I had, but I hoped and prayed right then I still possessed it.

"Why the delay?" An acerbic feminine voice cut through the chatter. The beautiful woman who had kissed the king wiggled forward. She was a personification of sin, her dress and makeup proper, and yet on her, she made a demure dress look like a cornucopia of sinful delights. "Flip the girl's skirts and then tell us whether or not she gets her head lopped off."

Lopped. Off?

She smirked at my stricken expression.

"One of the previous princesses didn't last a day. The royal doctor inspected her and saw she wasn't intact, so out into the courtyard she went." Her elegant hand rose, hovering over the back of her neck. "She ‘sneezed' into the basket." The woman smirked and then demonstrated the process, chopping her hand down and her head jerked forward, just like she'd sneezed.

Or been beheaded.

"How long will you last?" She looked me over, inspecting my hair, my face, my gown, barely able to restrain herself from peeling my lips back from my teeth to look at them as well. "It's difficult to say. The quiet ones take longer, but they cry all the time. Miserable creatures."

"Stop playing with your food, Giselle," Magnus said, plucking a glass of wine from a footman before handing it to the woman. He took another for himself and then sipped it thoughtfully as he looked me over. "Well, Holy Mother, are you quite ready? I have one more chore I must complete before," he turned to Giselle, "I can devote myself to more… satisfying past times."

This was a savage dismissal of me, before the entire court, but he had no way of knowing how much hope his words gave me. If Giselle was his doxy, let him spend his days and nights between her pocked thighs for all I cared. I'd send the woman a fruit basket to demonstrate my gratitude. But I couldn't show that now, so my eyes jerked down, tears coming easily, because in all my willingness to be the one who incited Arik to take the throne, I hadn't considered how alone I'd be, how vulnerable until Magnus was dead and buried.

I nodded to myself, my hands linked neatly before me as I sat down on the bed. The chatter seemed to get louder with each moment, the tinkling sounds of a woman laughing reverberating around in my head. Eyes slid my way more and more, the mask of indifference slipping. Blood was in the water, perhaps literally, if I was found wanting, and the beasts were circling. I pushed myself back on the bed, the rich gold thread embroidery of the counterpane scratching my skin. My head hit the soft bed, my body feeling like it was sinking deeper and deeper into the plush surface. That was fine. I would've rather it swallowed me whole, but it didn't, not when I blinked at the ceiling, noticing the mural painted there, nor when Selene started to speak.

"Your Highness, I will raise your skirts now."

No! I wanted to shriek. No, you won't! But I was powerless, utterly powerless, because any kind of reaction I might make would just delight them all. There had to have been princesses before me who'd been forced to endure such violations. Some would've cried, quietly or in great hacking sobs, and they would've lapped up every tear. I would give them nothing, that I swore, as my jaw locked tight.

"She's as stiff as a board, sire," Giselle drawled, looking me up and down with a baleful eye. "I do hope you didn't entertain any notions of enjoying riding this one, because I fear she is utterly without passion."

"That's why I have you, my dear."

Magnus wasn't focused on me, which Giselle didn't realise was a blessing. The bastard could never look at me again and I'd be perfectly happy. But listening to the two of them pawing at each other, somehow bonding over my shame, filled me with revulsion.

And rage.

I wished I was Roan, so that I might rise off the bed, sword in hand and stab the lot of them. I wished I was Silas, because then I could send knives flying across the room, burying them in everyone who dared look on. If I was Creed, I wouldn't need worry about what was being seen. I'd turn into a massive wolf and then have everyone screaming before me. And if I was Arik…

I'd jerk open the door to the king's chamber and stroll in like I owned the place, right as he did now.

"What is going on?" he snapped.

Selene had grasped the hem of my dress but gone no further, freezing to the spot as my pack walked in the door. I wanted to shove her away, even though she'd done her best to help me, and run. Towards Arik, towards Roan, and Silas… but where was Creed? I jerked myself upright, scanning the room, looking for signs of my wolf shifter.

"What does it look like, Arik?" Magnus said his brother's name like others might the word excrement. "Just making sure that you delivered my newest toy to me in one piece."

"Then where is the royal doctor?" he asked.

"Where is the royal doctor, Your Majesty?" Magnus rallied quickly, that same cat-like expression of glee back on his face. "Walters was apparently indisposed, so a sister from the Temple of the Women has been called upon to do the job."

"Before the entire court?"

How had Arik been allowed to live? He stared at his king with obvious disgust, and if I saw it, so did the rest of the court. That was a question I needed answered later as I watched the two of them face off. Magnus flinched ever so slightly, which made the king's frown deepen.

"You dare question your king?"

"I do when there's a potential for conflict to break out with the border kingdoms."

Arik shoved a sheaf of papers at Magnus, the other man's hand snapping up to take them and push Arik away, before he flicked through them. My marriage contract, I realised. I hadn't seen it, had no say in its content, but I knew of its existence. Women had few protections, but a legal document outlining the conditions of their marriage was one of them.

"Border kingdoms…?"

I sucked in the look of confusion on Magnus' face greedily, without betraying a thing in my expression. I was a perfectly blank-faced doll as I stared. Giselle looked restive, her fingers trailing through the king's hair as she looked at him, the contract and then… Arik. She'd wanted me to be jealous and hadn't managed it before, but I felt a stab of it now. I wanted to plunge the knife on my thigh into her eye socket and hear her screams echo through the room for even daring to glance Arik's way.

Because he was mine.

I shouldn't looked at Arik. I shouldn't have sought his gaze. He certainly shouldn't have met my eyes, those blue depths now like a stormy day. They were full of emotion, each one chasing the other across the sky of his eyes, but I caught anger and fear and fury and… Love?

Was that what that emotion was, the one that turned his eyes to molten blue rather than his usual glacial glare? A small cough from Silas had Arik redirecting his gaze, only for the rogue to claim my attention. He winked at me, then made a great show of staring studiously at the contract, right as Roan edged closer. The big warrior's hand strayed to the hilt of his sword, his focus directed at the crowd in the room, his baleful stare convincing them that stepping back or out of this room was a very good idea.

But where was Creed?

"Lanzene and Matteau are prepared to support any military action Stormare might take…" The king sought to shove the papers back into Arik's hands, but the prince made no attempt to take them. I watched them flutter through the air as they fell to the floor. Magnus' gaze landed back on me, and I wasn't happy for that. His eyes narrowed, his lip curling as he stared. "Prepared to fight a war for… her?"