by Ella Fields
Fang was right. It was time to see how my swan reacted to the idea of her unwanted mate landing in a trap.
Opal
Beshal’s eyes widened, the teapot shaking in her hand. “Marriage?”
In the days since the king had presented me with the opportunity I’d been waiting for, I’d done my best to occupy myself while trying to wrap my mind around all that I’d agreed to for the sake of my kingdom.
But I was being dishonest if I thought that was all I’d been trying to make peace with. For this thrill, this gathering elation in the pit of my stomach and chest, said it was so much more than a mere contractual agreement.
It meant potentially giving in to what I felt. I just wasn’t sure how to do that without forgiving him for all he’d done. And forgiving Dade Volkahn of his many atrocities…
I took the offered tea and sipped. “Yes. Is that citrus?”
Beshal nodded, Fink hiding amongst the gathered skirts of my gown with her friend Thompson, who’d been shy when I’d first arrived but shaking with excitement when I’d lowered my hand to lift him onto one of my crossed legs. “Mandarin and lavender, dear. My favorite for this time of year.”
Indeed, the leaves were collecting in piles now, winter’s kiss upon the air.
Beshal sat upon a small rock, her tiny booted feet swinging beneath her apricot frilled gown that looked more like an oversized apron. “My,” she said, clucking her tongue and drinking some tea. “I cannot imagine it. Our king. Married. It seems like just yesterday we’d hear that uncle of his hollering at him after he’d done something egregious to displease him.”
I wanted to hear more about Dade and his uncle, but rustling sounded.
Harro exited their home in the base of an elm tree, pushing past ferns that served as a fence with a tray of what appeared to be nuts in hand. “Princess, you’re just in time for some peppered nuts.”
I thanked him and took one while Beshal filled him in, and bit down too hard as a memory came forward from the dark. The memory of lying in that cave, fighting the need to shift and finding that pouch of peppered nuts that one of Dade’s warriors must have dropped on their journey across the crossover and through the woods to slaughter my people.
I was to marry the monster who’d killed my father.
I swallowed, not tasting anything but the sour essence of regret.
Did he regret it? Would he go back and change the past if he could?
I wanted to believe he would. I wanted to believe so many things that I feared would be a mistake to ever believe in again.
Harro released a rumbling laugh. “Marriage? The crimson king?” He bobbed over the rock he’d taken a seat on with his fading laughter. “Well, I do not think so.”
“Do you think the princess would lie about such a thing?” Fink said, her head popping out from under the sea green of my skirts. “Besides, Papa, he loves her.”
I nearly laughed at that. Love.
Dade Volkahn wouldn’t know the first thing about love, let alone being in love.
As I lowered my empty teacup, I was hit with the startling realization that I didn’t either. That maybe, if this was all this life had to give, then I would never know what it was to fall in love. Lust, most certainly, but never true love.
Fink gazed up at me, her smile dreamy. “What’s it like to kiss a king? Especially one as handsome as he.”
Liquid fire, I immediately thought. The type that extinguished all thought and sensibility. The type that melted with a mere hint of touch.
“I’ll beg your pardon, youngling,” Beshal sputtered. “Mind your tongue.”
Harro grunted. “And that imagination, please.”
I smiled, hoping the dipping sensation inside me was not present upon my cheeks, and carefully tapped the pad of my finger under Fink’s chin. “Who says I’ve kissed him?”
Her secretive smile gave me away, but she only whispered, “Your expression, my lady.” Then Thompson grabbed her ankle, and she squealed, ducking back inside the rayon skirts to catch him back.
“You’re apprehensive.” Beshal eyed me curiously with her head tilted. “It’s smart, I suppose,” she said, nodding. “This ah, arrangement will surely put an end to this feud, but is it what you want?”
It was and it wasn’t, and I didn’t know how to answer that.
Harro’s brows furrowed, then he jumped to his feet, nuts flying from his hand. “He comes.” Rushing forward, he made to snatch the younglings from my skirts, but the king was already here, and I smiled even as my heart sank. That he’d come looking for me when, aside from leaving a black rose outside my rooms for the past two evenings, he’d been content to leave me with my thoughts, did not bode well.
“It’s fine. You are safe.” I reached out a hand to Dade when he appeared, smoky shadow curling around his typical attire of black, his long leather coat twisting in the breeze behind him and revealing a black vest underneath. “Our king loves a good cup of tea.”
Dade’s eyes narrowed, his impatience to take me and tell me whatever it was that had made him come in search of me apparent in the thinning of his lips and his stiff shoulders. “I do indeed, but we’ve things to discuss.” He surveyed me. “Where is your cloak? It’s cool out.”
“I forgot it, and those things can wait five minutes,” I said, retracting my hand and helping myself to another cup of tea. Though I was curious to know what things he was referring to.
Harro and Beshal were as still as the stones surrounding us, the two younglings inside my skirts the same.
“Opal…”
“It is delicious,” I said to my tiny cup, and sipped before looking back at Beshal. “And we were in the middle of a conversation. It would be rude to leave before we are done.”
One second passed. Then two. On the third, he finally caved and asked, “Dare I ask what this conversation was about?”
I snorted a little, smiling up at him. “You, of course.”
His blue eyes blazed at my taunt, lips curling slightly. “Wonderful.” Sighing, the king lowered to the grass and crossed his giant legs. He waved his hand. “Fine. Proceed.”
I hadn’t thought he’d give in, and his commanding presence suddenly seemed too much, both too stifling and freezing, to fit here on the ground with us.
But fit he was trying to do.
Thankfully, Beshal launched into action, pouring her king a tea with only a slight tremble in her hand. She marched around the small stump holding the tray and nuts, pushing through the grass that reached her shoulders, and lowered before Dade. “Here you are, sire.”
We waited in tense silence as Dade sniffed at the tea, his nose crinkling in a way that caused my lips to itch with the beginning of a broad smile. I pinched them, watching as he lifted the little teacup to his mouth, tasted, and swallowed.
Harro seemed to be holding his breath, eyes wide on the king, feet stuck in place in the grass and his beard shifting in the breeze, while Beshal watched on with smiling, eager eyes.
The two younglings still hadn’t moved, but I wasn’t fooled. I knew they were waiting, too.
“Delicious,” he finally said, seeming a little surprised as he took another sip, ridding what remained before handing the teacup back.
“Another, my king?” Beshal asked, already backing up toward the teapot.
“No,” he said simply.
“Thank you,” I added, irked by his rudeness.
Dade’s attention swung to me, his smile lethal yet warm. “Thank you.”
I returned his smile, then forced my eyes back to the elves. “I was informing them of our plans to wed.”
Dade’s silence created another thick wave of tension. I ignored it, so did the younglings, Fink choosing then to expose herself.
Her head popped up, arms leaning over a mound of fabric as she looked at the king. “May we come to this wedding?” she asked, and her mother made a noise I couldn’t decipher. Fink’s cheeks pinkened. “My king.”
“You must excuse her,”
Harro found his voice then. Stammering a little, he stepped forward as though he’d retrieve his daughter and send her home. “Fink is but a handful of years old.”
“It’s quite all right,” I answered for the king, who looked at me. His head tilted, those unblinking eyes seemingly asking what it was exactly I’d told them. Enough, I answered with a smile, then said aloud, “We are not yet sure where the wedding will be held, but I would love nothing more than to see you all there.”
“That is actually what we need to talk about,” Dade said, tone clipped. “Now, if you do not mind.”
I pursed my lips, too curious to know what my mother had said. I was aware he’d written to her, and it appeared he’d received word. “Fine.”
“Sire,” Fink said, and I leaned forward to place my teacup on the stump. “Is it true you breathe fire?”
Dade released a shocked grunt of a laugh, his features returning to stone as he muttered, “Breathe fire?”
“Yes,” she said, standing upon my leg now and revealing her friend’s head. “You know, like a dragon.”
“There are no dragons on this continent,” the king said smoothly, and I wanted to smack him for the flat expression that darkened Fink’s face. Dade looked at me, then sighed and said to the young female elf, “No, I don’t breathe fire. Though I suppose it would be a handy trick to have.”
Fink grinned. “Oh, indeed it would be.”
“One of the things I can do,” the king said, a glint in his eye as he leaned toward us a little. “Is this.” Fire erupted from the grass behind him, moving slowly in a burning circle to his bent knees.
Fink’s eyes threatened to pop out of her head, while her mother shrieked and her father raced to grab her, other elves now appearing from the woods to see what all the commotion was.
“Wow,” Fink breathed, reluctantly climbing onto my hand with Thompson as her father gestured for her to climb down immediately.
Save for the breeze rustling pieces of Dade’s thick hair onto one side of his forehead, he didn’t move as the fire disappeared as quick as it’d arrived.
Such ease with deathly power shouldn’t have been permitted—especially in those who would seek to use it for their own gain. A twinge of empathy flared for how my grandparents had felt, for the fear of Dade’s parents, who’d both harnessed ungodly powers of flame and shadow, unimaginable strength, shifting, and warping.
But it was more than permitted. It was star-given, and to argue with the fates in such a way was futile.
And while I could empathize, it was growing more apparent that the murder of Dade’s parents was just that. Unjustified murder.
The elves scrambled back a few steps, bowing to their king as he rose and offered me his hand. Fink waved from the forest floor, Thompson already bounding toward the play equipment fashioned from stolen footwear.
I smiled, waving back before placing my hand in the king’s. “Thank you for the tea and the marvelous company.”
We were nearing the gardens when Dade’s hand squeezed mine and tugged me closer, his voice warm at my ear as he purred, “For the tea and the marvelous company?” I bristled as he chuckled. “My, you truly are a well-mannered, dutiful little princess, aren’t you?”
I tore my hand free, pulling my shoulders back. “I’d rather be well-mannered than rude and arrogant.”
“I’m rude?” he asked, and I nearly laughed at the way he’d done so, as if perplexed, and also the fact he’d wisely not denied his arrogance. “How so?”
“You interrupted us and then stared down your nose at them until I all but forced you to join us, and then you could not even thank Beshal for the tea.”
“It was good tea,” he admitted, and I spun before him, waiting for him to understand what I’d just spelled out. “I was not rude.”
“You were.”
“I am their king. To gentle myself in such a way would make me appear weak.”
“Weak?” I laughed. “It would make you appear as though you care.”
“Perhaps I don’t,” he said then, brows raised in defiance, eyes of dawn gazing at me down the strong bridge of his nose. “Did you think of that?”
I felt my skin warm under that gaze, and said quietly without enough thought to stop myself, “Some weeks ago, I would have believed that. Now, I’m not so sure.”
His feigned apathy didn’t waver. We stared for a stretched moment, a moment that rippled and heated and charged and lured as my thoughts ran astray. Thoughts of him above me, behind me, beneath me, all over me, hours spent inside me…
Dade sniffed, his eyes darkening as though he could scent what those thoughts, what he, did to me.
Of course, he damned well could. Inwardly cursing up a storm, I cleared my throat. “So, this important news?”
He didn’t so much as glance around the empty terrace before saying, “Your mother responded. We are to marry at Castle Gracewood in a private ceremony in two evenings time.”
Two evenings.
I might be home as early as tomorrow. Relief hit me so hard, it took me a moment to even imagine what that would look like. To walk through my own city, the archways and crowded corners of my own castle, and the gardens…
My eyes itched, stung, but I swallowed over the boulder of emotion in my throat. Home. I would be going home. A place I hadn’t dared think about too much in recent weeks for fear of never seeing it again.
For fear of finding that I preferred the company and kingdom of a king that had tainted this entire continent with his vengeful schemes and actions.
But it had begun with us. My family. A fact I’d largely chosen to ignore. Not only because I hadn’t been there, and I did not know enough, but because it did not excuse all Dade had done in the slightest.
Private. Gracewood.
“Something wrong, sunshine?” The king’s snide words snapped me out of my trance.
I blinked hard before running a hand through my hair, forgetting I’d woven it into a loose braid before heading into the gardens earlier and ruining it.
I didn’t care. Flustered, I gazed up at him, finding nothing but cold assessment in those eyes as I wondered out loud, “Perhaps this is not wise after all.” I did not think my mother a killer. She’d marched with my father’s armies many a time but often refrained from hurting others if she could avoid it. She was a healer, a defender.
But he’d killed her husband. My father.
Her mate.
Not to mention, he’d stolen me—her only living heir.
Dade’s eyes warmed a fraction, his shoulders falling as he slid his hands inside the pockets of his tight black trousers. “How so?”
I reared back, withholding an incredulous laugh when it dawned on me. He knew. Of course, he already knew.
He merely wanted to see if I’d hide what we both feared.
“Don’t do that,” I snapped, then turned and hurried inside. He could take his precious wedding and shove it up his—
Hands looped around my waist at the stairs, and I squeaked. Dade turned me, loomed over me, brows dancing low and his lips curved. “What is it you think I’m doing?”
“Testing me.”
He pressed closer, and my back met the marble railing. “Can you blame me? You’ve not been to see me since I agreed to your terms.”
“You’ve not been here,” I retorted, hating that I sounded miffed by that fact.
“I have, but I’ve been training a faction of my warriors that were under Serrin’s command, as well as riffling through the reports delivered by some of our scouts and preparing things for when we leave tomorrow.”
“Reports of what?”
“I’m keeping tabs on those human royals, of course.” He hummed, a finger dragging up my arm, heating flesh in its wake, and stopping under my chin once he’d tilted it closer to his lips. “Especially that prince you seem so fond of.”
Outrage roughened my voice. “I am not fond of him.”
“You saved his life, betrayed me to do so.”
“I’ve been waiting,” he said then, his lower body pushing into mine, hard, hot, and I immediately tingled all over. “Hoping you’ll return to my bed, that you’ll simply just return to me.”
“I want to,” I admitted, far too breathy than I’d have liked.
Husky and low, he murmured to my cheek, “So why deny yourself? Why deny me?”
“I thought you’d come for me,” I released another truth, closing my eyes against such foolishness. “You never did.”
“I did. I left you presents.”
The roses. Smiling, I reopened my eyes, turned my head until our lips almost touched. “Unlike you, I cannot sniff you out from beneath the door when I am in bed and likely asleep.”
He pondered that as if he hadn’t considered it before now, then groaned as if frustrated. “Come now then. We can talk more in my rooms.”
Hypnotized, I allowed him to lead me up the stairs but halted when we reached the landing to our rooms—when I saw those large doors that would open to reveal a memory-stained space of another time.
“It’s like another world,” I heard myself say, fingers pulling from the king. He turned to me, confusion dancing within his eyes. “Being in that room with you, all those hours…” I shook my head, smiling even as something inside me screamed to walk closer and kiss that disappointment from his annoyingly handsome face. “We’ve too much at stake. We leave tomorrow. We cannot be distracted in—”
“I want you.”
Such simple words. Such simple words with drastic complications.
“We will enter that room of yours, lose ourselves in one another, and risk everything by arriving at Gracewood sleep deprived, distracted, and infatuated.”
“Infatuated,” he repeated, as though tasting the word quietly.
I walked closer and took both his hands in mine, allowing myself that much when I wanted and needed so much more. I burned with it and squeezed as I implored, “Dade, this is not a game to be won any longer. This wedding… it could turn into another war. My mother is wounded. Gravely with the loss of my father, and I won’t lose her, too.”