by Bonnie Vanak
Gideon gently squeezed Alia’s hand. “We came here for your nuptial blessing, as is tradition in this kingdom. I fear we are distracting you from more important matters in the kingdom.”
His deep voice carried respect, but she knew the sarcasm dripping from it. Fortunately, Oren was preoccupied. He waved a hand. “You have my blessing. I will ask Cook to prepare a small breakfast for you in the solar. Don’t expect anyone from court to attend.”
At the crude insult, Alia stifled a gasp. Forgoing the traditional breakfast was as rude as if the king had slapped her cheek. Her face burned with shame.
Her father had all but stated, “You are not worth honoring.”
Gideon nodded. “I thank you, but I have traditions of my own kingdom. I must take my bride to observe the morning solstice ritual.”
They bowed again and left the throne room. Alia’s throat closed tight. All her life, she’d waited and hoped for respect and a little love from her sire. Why should he show any now? She still was lower than the table salt.
Only when they were outside the castle grounds and riding on the horses given to them from the royal stables did Gideon speak. “Are you all right, Alia?”
“Yes.” Her hands gripped the reins tighter. “I apologize on behalf of the king for that insult, my lord. He has always insisted on throwing a wedding breakfast for newly married royals.”
“Do not apologize, but do call me Gideon.” He frowned. “Is your father always like this in the morning?”
“I don’t know for I seldom see him, except for the few times when he summons me to court, usually in the afternoon. That was when he matched me with my former groom.”
“Ah yes, the lord riddled with evil who was destroyed,” Gideon murmured.
“By the Crimson Wizard.” She tilted her head. “Did you hear of the incident?”
Gideon avoided her gaze. “I’m sure many in both kingdoms have.”
They rode in silence for a few moments before she spoke again. “What is this morning solstice ritual you mentioned? Has it been part of your culture for many centuries?”
A charming, lethal smile from those lips that had kissed every inch of her body last night, delivering pleasure after pleasure. “It is something I invented to get us the hell out of there.”
Alia laughed, her melancholy lifted by his good humor. “Gideon, you are a Fae after my own heart. Thank you.”
He leaned forward. “Come, let’s race!”
As they galloped toward the cottage, she felt more free and lighthearted than she had in years.
How she wished she didn’t have to kill him.
7
Lush gardens covered the grounds in back of their new home. After breakfast, Gideon sat in the library, poring over books containing the history of the Summer Kingdom. He hoped to garner clues about King Oren.
Alia went outside to garden. Through the opened windows he heard her high, sweet voice singing as she worked. Once he stopped to listen and observe. Swarms of emerald green, turquoise blue and sunflower yellow butterflies fluttered around her as she knelt in the earth. They were attracted to her much as the sprites who buzzed back and forth, helping fetch her tools for planting.
As he watched his bride, Gideon wondered if Alia herself envied the butterflies and sprites for their winged freedom.
He went into the garden to join her. Ariel fluttered nearby.
“Sire!” Ariel flew over to him. “Alia is planting nectar plants for us.”
He smiled and sat on the bench, crossing his feet at the ankle to watch his wife work in the garden. The fairies adored sipping from the nectar plants.
Alia joined him on the bench, sighing as she dusted off her hands. “I enjoy watching the fairies and butterflies. They are so ethereal, so lovely.”
A white butterfly, its wings delicate white lace, fluttered nearby. It landed on Alia’s outstretched finger. Then it flew over to her head, perching there.
Alia tilted her head. “Do you like my new hat?”
At her impish smile, he laughed. “It looks charming on you.”
The butterfly flitted off, circling her and then flew toward the trees. It returned, leading streams of more butterflies—iridescent blue, brilliant green, sharp crimson with gold wings. The butterflies fluttered around Alia as if drawn to her.
She gave a happy sigh. “I could remain here forever.”
I wish we could. He kissed her. “I must return to my reading. Enjoy your gardening.”
That night, after their new servants served a delicious casserole of vegetables and chicken, they sat before the roaring fire. The outside air had a distinct chill. The two Fae servants retired for the evening, settling into the nearby cottage given to them as living quarters.
Chin propped up on one hand, he concentrated on the fire as Alia worked on needlepoint. One of his particular talents as the Crimson Wizard had been controlling fire through magick, creating beings made from the flames.
Fire fairies.
He missed that ability now. Fire fairies could vanish with a wisp of smoke, and then dive down the chimney and reanimate inside the fireplaces of unsuspecting Fae. It was an excellent way to gain information from powerful Fae who wished to keep secrets from the Crimson Wizard.
He’d sent two to Oren’s private apartments only last month and learned nothing. Oren had shielded himself with such power; Gideon could not find a way to penetrate into his inner sanctum.
It wasn’t unusual, for the kings of both Fae courts were ancient and powerful. But considering the shadows pushing at the edges of this kingdom, it was imperative he find out Oren’s true intentions. Each day he felt the oppressiveness lingering in the air inside the castle grow heavier, like lead weights crushing his chest.
In the armchair near him, Alia set down her needlepoint and sipped Kelvarian fruit wine, a luxury allowed only for royals.
“What do you see in the fire, my lord?”
Gideon kept staring at the flames. “Alia, I told you to call me Gideon. I am not your lord. I am your husband.”
“Yes, my lord husband Gideon.”
He turned to see a twinkle in her eyes, the hint of a smile upon her pretty mouth. His heart turned over as he remembered how Eleanor had teased him the same manner. Alia was the first woman in a millennia to bring lightness into his life.
Firelight reflected in the sparkling jewels adorning her ears. Alia wore two earrings in each ear; one sparkling diamond pierced through the delicate flesh of her lobe, the other near the pointed tip of her ear.
Odd how they had seemed to glow red at times. Perhaps an effect of her magick.
“In the Winter Kingdom, royal princes gift their brides with a wedding present.” Gideon didn’t add that customarily the bride gifted her husband with a present as well. He did not want her to feel obligated. “I have jewels for you when we visit my father’s kingdom soon. You may have your choice. Do you prefer diamonds, pearls, sapphires or other stones?”
Her finger touched the gemstones in her ear. “Jewels are not for me, my lord.”
Gideon blinked in surprise. “Why wear the diamonds?”
“They were forced on me when I turned twelve. All girls in the kingdom are required to wear ear jewelry.” Her smile flattened. “My father made it a law two decades ago, as a symbol of our status. Royal women wear diamonds, daughters of court nobles rubies or sapphires, common Fae simple quartz. But all women must wear them.”
“Why?”
She gave a slight laugh. “Perhaps the king wanted to make us all look prettier. He loathes ugly women.”
Sensing a delicate topic, he changed the subject. “Then my wedding gift to you will not be gems. But it is traditional for royal princes in my kingdom to gift their brides with jewelry.”
“Gideon, why did you marry me? Was it solely for political reasons and to seal the truce between our two kingdoms?”
He drew in a sharp breath. The question was not unexpected, but he wasn’t certain she would like the answer. Ho
nesty was best, but he could not reveal his true nature to her. Not yet. Her safety came first, and without his Crimson Wizard powers, he could not guarantee it. Others might harm or even kidnap her if word leaked out he was the Crimson Wizard.
“Our marriage was arranged for a higher purpose. Yes, I married you for the sake of peace, but I promise you will never want for anything. I will do all in my power to ensure you have everything you need.”
Crackling flames mirrored in her troubled gaze. Alia turned her head, running a finger along the stem of the wineglass. “And what if I need love? Could you ever learn to love me?” she asked softly.
Alia deserved a devoted, loyal husband who would care for her, protect and cherish her, and love her for all time.
“Alia, I made a vow long ago to love only one woman. She has been dead and gone for many years, but my heart remains with her. I will cherish and care for you, my sweet. All I ask is that you trust me.”
“We do not know each other.”
True enough, but he couldn’t ignore the sensation that he knew her heart, and she was familiar to him. “Open up to me. Share with me your hopes, your dreams, your concerns. I am listening.”
Silent still, she continued staring at the wine as if it held the answers to all the world’s concerns. Alia finally gave a small, humorless laugh.
“Dreams aren’t possible for me. I’m the king’s glittering toy, taken out of a box and put on display when he pleases, and it’s expected that I shine, no matter how I feel inside. When I enter court, I hold my breath, hoping I don’t have a stray thread on my hem, or a curl out of place. All in court wait to see me make one small mistake and become an object of questioning, or ridicule. Or worse.”
“Go on.”
“I am married now but I have no identity. I am known as your wife instead of the king’s daughter. Everything official I do must be sanctioned by you, my lord and master. I cannot travel, work or even to have my own money when I shop. I must have your approval on my wardrobe. I am not a person, only a vessel for your pleasure and later, for bearing your children. The smallest sprite in the Summer Kingdom has more freedom than I do.”
She took a deep breath, as if all had been bottled up inside her. It had for quite a while, he suspected.
“I am considered by some Fae to be overweight. As my husband you could order me to slim down. You have the right to withhold meals, even punish me publically if my figure displeases you. Or if anything I do displeases you.”
He waited, listening intently.
“So when you ask about me, my hopes and dreams for my life, it’s quite simple. I wish to survive to live another day.”
Anger colored her voice, flushed her cheeks, but her gaze remained wary as she watched to see his next move. This was the real Alia, the woman who dared to voice her opinion to the king when he’d visited as the Crimson Wizard.
He stood and crossed the room to stand by her chair and lifted his hand. Alia flinched, as if expecting him to hit her.
Sighing, Gideon dropped his hand to her hair, caressing it. “You are beautiful as you are, Alia, in sackcloth or velvet. Your body is exquisite and I cherish all your curves. But if you were a wizened crone or a skinny wife, what would matter most to me is your own unique self, your spirit and intellect and fire. I recognized it when I first saw you.”
Huge eyes filled with distress, shadows dancing within them. Secrets and pain. So many secrets. “Gideon, you’re perfect. You have magick I can never hope to attain, and you’re simply beautiful and handsome and at times, arrogant. There isn’t a woman in my father’s court who would refuse you if you invited them into your bed.”
“Our bed,” he trailed a finger down her temple, enjoying her little quiver, “is reserved only for you. And I am not perfect.”
Nor do I have powerful magick.
Huge blue eyes regarded him, shadows dancing in their depths. “And how long will you stay?”
His hand stilled and then he dropped it. Had she seen through his glamour and suspected his true identity? “What do you mean?”
“You’re from the Winter Kingdom. A Fae prince. How long could you remain here in the Seelie Court? Most lords who are part of the peace treaty exchange never remain longer than six months.” Alia sighed. “My father will never allow me to leave the Seelie Court. You know the terms of the marriage contract. You remain here six months and then you are free to leave.”
Free to desert me, her tone indicated.
He opted for the truth. “I will stay as long as I can.”
The answer didn’t make her relax. She was too smart for platitudes. Instead, Alia picked up the aging harp next to the chair and strummed the strings. “Shall I play?”
“Please,” he murmured, settling back into his seat. “I enjoy your voice.”
She sang a traditional Fae song of brave warriors and loyal ladies who waited for them to return from battle. The notes were sweet and pure, and he closed his eyes, his body relaxing under the soothing melody of her voice.
She seemed fragile, delicate bone structure beneath the creamy whiteness of her skin. Lush and curvy, a feast for any man.
The lyrical pureness of her voice soothed him, made him relax against the chair cushions in a manner he’d never done outside the refuge of his home in Tir na-Nog.
Alia’s tender touch awakened the man inside him who had long buried his heart.
When she finished, Alia set down the harp with a sigh. “I have always enjoyed singing at night, but I fear the strings are out of tune.”
Gideon went and sat on the edge of her chair. “It was lovely.”
Her fingers plucked at the amethyst gown trimmed with silver, much as they’d plucked the harp. “Now that I am married, I am allowed to wear colors other than white. I’m no longer the king’s virginal daughter. Do you like this gown?”
“You may wear whatever color gown that pleases you. I like what you are wearing,” he said, his voice husky, his desire growing. “But presently, I’d like you better out of it.”
He bent his head to take her mouth. She kissed him, her mouth moving subtly over his. Groaning, he slid a hand around her nape, holding her still as he increased the pressure.
Beneath his trousers, his erection throbbed, hard and demanding. His kiss was possessive, pure flames. Alia fisted her hands into his shirt. This was no kiss of lust and desire from their previous lovemaking. Desperation and pure need arrowed through him, as he kissed her as if they would part forever and never see each other again. Each time he touched her, he felt truly alive for the first time in more than a thousand years.
Gideon swept her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He ripped off her gown and tumbled her into the bed, then stripped.
His lovemaking was fierce, wild and passionate, and she took all he gave her, and gave back passion of her own.
Long after she lay spent and exhausted in sleep, he remained awake, staring at the ceiling.
He could grow to love her..
Once the idea would have bothered him greatly. It no longer did. Not when he considered Alia, and the spark of joy she stirred deep inside him. Her laughter reminded him of another woman, the only woman he’d loved, the woman he’d failed to protect. It hurt deeply, but in a way, he was fiercely glad of it, for he finally felt alive again.
No matter what, he had to prevent Alia from suffering the same fate as Eleanor.
Seven days after their wedding, Alia found herself singing and laughing for the first time in many years. Gideon was kind and considerate, and showered her with small, thoughtful gifts, such as taking away her harp to have it restrung, or giving her a bouquet of yellow daisies and wild heather he’d picked for her in the nearby meadow.
Strong and masculine, his muscled body always alert when he accompanied her on their morning rides, he never failed to show her the utmost courtesy. She was beginning to believe his words that he did cherish her.
But he could never love her. She found herself wondering what uni
que and special woman had quietly claimed his heart and his loyalty.
And he didn’t promise to stay with her. Perhaps he planned to fulfill his marital obligations, get her with child, and then return to his world, his people.
How could she assassinate this Fae? He was not dark and evil as her father had indicated. The Unseelie were not her enemy as she’d been told growing up.
I could fall in love with you, Gideon.
In bed, he exercised a furious control, his lovemaking at times wild and uninhibited. Though she’d seen him break a stone with his hands when he helped her garden, he displayed none of that brutal strength with her, only gentleness.
Gideon insisted on cooking breakfast for her each morning. One day he made eggs scrambled with hard cheese. Fresh fruit that the fairies had picked that morning sat on a wood bowl on the table.
He’d winked as he served her. A man serving a woman! Such an event had seldom happened in her father’s kingdom, not in many years, she suspected.
Each afternoon he left when the nobles presented themselves to the king. Today, as she’d done all week during his five-hour absence, she left the manor with a pack slung over her back. Alia walked to the colony of wilding Fae. Sunlight dappled the thick tree limbs draping over the tiny shacks. Most of the occupants were in the forest, foraging for berries and wild honey they could sell in town, their only means of earning income to buy the food their children needed.
At the cottage near the edge of the colony, she knocked softly. This time, the door opened. A tall, blonde woman stood inside, her cheeks hollow, her expression brightening as the worn blue gaze swept over Alia.
She hugged her tight, and Alia released a sigh of pure relief. “Mother.”
Her mother was alert and aware, not sunk into a deep depression. Today was a good day.
They went into the tiny living room and sat on the dusty sofa. Alia removed the pack. “More books from the library.”
Brianna’s eyes lit up, and then they creased with worry. “You’ll get into trouble.”
“No one in that court reads anymore, Mother. These are mine, given to me by Oren.” A small smile curved her lips. “All I had to do was complain that my room in the palace was being used as a storage area for books and they piled more inside. I had the servants bring them from the castle to my new home. They even brought over the old history books. Gideon enjoys reading those.”