Betrothed

  I replayed Leif’s last words in my fuzzy brain a few times. I was aware that the kings were asking Leif questions and that I should probably be paying attention, but I couldn’t because I was stuck. I couldn’t rid my mind of his last statement and for some reason, I wanted to make sure it was firmly planted—Above all else, Marla is my betrothed. I tossed it around my head a few more times, translated it several different ways. I didn’t like the meaning my brain finally accepted, so I switched my hazy attention back to my trial. King Telophy was speaking now.

  Take your spell off me, Leif, I want to pay attention, I told my betrothed.

  Instantly my mind began to clear and that incredible feeling of wonderful, seething power descended on me again. I forced myself to bear it, closed my eyes and drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly as I gave up the struggle and allowed the presence of so many kings to flow through me. It was exhilarating after I became accustomed to the sensation, like riding a great rushing wave of sparkling energy that heightened all of my senses, making me super aware as my attention gathered around what remained of King Telophy’s statement.

  ‘What would any of you have done differently? It was a kindness I offered Finelle when I forbade her pregnancy—a chance for her to keep her home and marriage—a chance for her and Tobias to keep their allegiance to me. But again they chose to defy me. Tell me; was I to allow them to win? Am I to allow them to win now? Am I to allow them to get the better of their king? And if them, why not every other of my subjects? Would any of you allow such a thing? Let us make an agreement amongst ourselves today, shall we? Let us all agree to have our subjects rule us!’

  ‘But Telophy, you have not told us the extent of the wrong done you,’ a fair-haired king said.

  ‘Nor shall I, for what concern is it of this assembly? Or is this a forum for the exposé of my private life?’ King Telophy’s eyes flashed and the enormous sunstones surrounding the courtyard surged brighter still as something snapped in the air nearby. I barely stopped myself from crying out.

  ‘Of course it is not, Telophy. Relax, grandson,’ King Morlan said.

  ‘Well, then, what difference the wrong she did me? Do you suppose I would punish my subjects without reason? And now, am I to answer to the rulers of other kingdoms as to for what and in which way I am to rebuke my Fae? Did you seek the approval of other kings, Alic, when you banished that young male to my kingdom last year—never to see his family again? And you Ryn—did you look to the authority of others when you removed your allegiance from your high guard, only to have him immediately die at the hands of the Shadow Fae? Don’t speak to me of this assembly needing to know the wrongs committed against me.’

  ‘But this female you seek to condemn to the human world is your son’s betrothed,’ a different king said.

  ‘Her parents seemed content to leave her there, did they not? Why should it concern me?’

  ‘You are missing the point, Telophy—this girl, Marla,’ the same king said, gesturing to me, ‘is betrothed to our prince.’

  King Telophy didn’t even spare me a glance when he said, ‘And why should that change anything? Do you think she is the only one able to satisfy him? I can tell you from my own experience that she is not! Any number of females would do as queen and lover to my son.’

  Leif shot from his seat, mouth open to protest, but before he had the chance his father turned on him and sent a flash of power from his hand that had Leif crying out as he tumbled back into his seat, ‘You chose this farce,’ King Telophy bellowed. ‘You will stay seated and listen to my testimony.’

  ‘Leif, let your father speak,’ King Morlan said quietly.

  ‘I have only this left to say,’ King Telophy continued. ‘It does not take a betrothed one to make a well pleased king—nor a good king. No one here can deny that despite never having known my betrothed I am the most committed of kings. I worked tirelessly to do what was required to clean up Mirren’s mess—and didn’t he enjoy the benefits of being married to his betrothed? Neither can anyone say that the lack of a betrothed has in any way affected my ongoing performance; my Fae are amongst the safest and most well protected in Faera. Nor would it affect Leif’s. But if it is love you are concerned with on my son’s behalf, any of you honest enough to own it could attest to the fact that a betrothed one does not hold full sway over a man’s heart. Any number of my nubile young subjects would do as a substitute for this girl.’

  So that’s what this whole thing was about—whether or not Leif could do without me. It wasn’t about me at all, not the unfairness of King Telophy’s punishment or my birthright as a citizen of Faera. My breakfast churned in my stomach as images of woman after beautiful woman falling quivering to her knees before my betrothed danced in my mind. If I should lose this case, didn’t Leif have the whole female population of not just Telophy, but Faera to comfort him? I thought I might throw up. But one of the twenty-five was on his feet, informing Leif and his father that the assembly would retire to consider the statements of father and son and make their decision.

  We were called back to the courtyard in a surprisingly short space of time. Whatever the participants of the assembly had decided, they had decided it quickly. I sat beside Leif, trembling uncontrollably and barely able to breathe but silently demanding he not make warm fuzz of my brain again. King Telophy sat as far from us as possible, his expression giving no hint of his state of mind—carefully controlled didn’t begin to describe the closed off look on his face. Despite Leif’s constant assurances that the decision would be in our favour, his body was taut and his heart beating way too fast. But then that could have been my influence.

  A brown-haired king stood and, shifting his attention between Leif and his father, said, ‘Irrespective of the speed at which we have come to a decision, and the closeness of the ballot—thirteen votes to twelve—this has been a very difficult situation to resolve. In fact it cannot be said to have been resolved as I fear there will most certainly be repercussions. When each testimony was reduced to its most base element what we had to consider was this: One grandson’s right to punish his subjects as he sees fit versus another’s to make a life with his betrothed. Telophy, there is not a king living who would like to have the discipline of his subjects questioned, and while every one of us can sympathise with your plight, there is another issue at stake here. To find in your favour would be to deny Leif his birthright, and although some of us are of the opinion that life might well be more than acceptable with the comfort and ministrations of a female not one’s betrothed, most are not. Still, there is the issue of your rights as king . . . A dilemma indeed, for your point has much merit—what does it demonstrate to one’s subjects to witness the judgment of their king being overruled? It can only make him seem less in their eyes, weak, and it was for this reason alone that the vote was so close.’

  The king paused. My body was all tightness and tension and Leif was so still that I wondered how long it had been since he had taken a breath. I glanced across to King Telophy. He was completely blank, like nothing could touch him. And then the brown-haired king said, ‘I am sorry, Telophy, but the assembly has decided in favour of your son.’

  I fell against Leif, who let out a breath in a long rush as he wound his arms around me and pulled me hard against him. I shot another glance in King Telophy’s direction. To my surprise he was watching Leif, not me, and his eyes were filled with such fury that I started to tremble all over again.

  Leif, oblivious to his father’s reaction, was almost bursting with excitement. ‘It is over, my love, we have won! You are free!’

  Another glance at King Telophy was enough to tell me that this was nowhere near over. He looked like he was about to erupt. ‘Can we go back now?’

  The joy on Leif’s face dimmed just a fraction. ‘I cannot. There are formalities and a meal . . . I will be expected to attend.’

  ‘What about me—am I expected to attend?’

  He took my hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. ‘I would ve
ry much like you to.’

  I looked over to King Telophy again. His furious eyes had not left my betrothed. Leif had only to turn his head to notice. Father and son needed to talk, and that wouldn’t happen with me around. ‘I’d rather go back, Leif, but I can make my own way—just picture the castle, right?’ I said, careful to keep the anxiety from my voice.

  Leif frowned. ‘Is everything all right?’

  I swallowed my unease and did a big fake eye roll. ‘I need a shower if you must know, you rushed me this morning.’

  His expression relaxed into a smile again. ‘I’ll take you.’

  ‘I’m not useless you know, besides, you just said you were expected to stay. Can I just leave from here?’

  ‘Yes, but I . . . ’

  I pressed a hand to his lips. ‘Don’t rush, okay? Stay and party with your grandfathers. I know you don’t see them that often. And when you get back we’ll celebrate.’

  He grinned and kissed me softly. ‘I can barely wait.’

  I pictured my room in King Telophy’s castle, released my wings and let the sun have me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I wasn’t expecting the person who came raging into my room not five minutes after I arrived: King Telophy looked like he was about to explode. I backed into a corner, cowering there as he came to me, eyes blazing fire.

  ‘You think you have won,’ he spat, ‘but you have won nothing. Nobody dictates the affairs of my kingdom to me—nobody! Your rebellious mother will never get the better of me. I would go to war with every one of my grandfathers on it.’

  ‘But you said you’d honour—’ I began, but he had no intention of letting me speak.

  ‘Do you value the life of your betrothed?’

  Ice leaked into my veins.

  ‘Answer me,’ he roared.

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered.

  ‘Then know this: it would be nothing for me to arrange the disposal of both him and his mother. I am King Telophy—beloved of my people—and I have a legion of loyal subjects to call upon to perform the deed should I desire it.’

  ‘You’d have them killed? Your wife and son!’

  ‘My wife,’ he raged, ‘is but a snivelling creature. Oh, she’s nicely subservient—I’ll give her that. But I am not fool enough to be deceived by her. She does nothing but pine for her betrothed night and day. I mean less than nothing to her.’

  ‘But her betrothed is dead.’

  He laughed—a hard, bitter sound. ‘Dead. Yes, she begged me to allow our son to believe that. Her betrothed is not dead. He is my insurance against bad behaviour. Atara’s betrothed makes her wonderfully compliant.’

  ‘That’s so cruel,’ I whispered—the words out of my mouth before I could consider the wisdom of them.

  The king’s eyes narrowed, then in a voice that was too controlled he said, ‘How dare you speak to me of cruelty? My wife can at least harbour the hope that she and her betrothed might one day be united. I have nothing!’

  ‘But you’re her king. She can’t help loving you.’

  ‘Your mother somehow managed, did she not? Why would Atara be any different? Besides, she is not the woman I wanted.’

  ‘But she’s so beautiful and you have a wonderful son with her,’ I said quietly.

  ‘Wonderful son? Insolent deceiver is a more apt description,’ King Telophy said. He paused a moment, before continuing, ‘Besides, Atara’s son is not the son I should have had. I should have had Finelle’s son. She was the woman I chose. For two years I courted her—I, her king. And she so besotted with me only to betray me in the end!’

  ‘My father was her betrothed,’ I said, but I needn’t have bothered, the king was deep in his memories and not hearing me.

  ‘I should have taken her when I had the chance. She would not have resisted me. I would have loved her and she would have been happy.’ He turned his attention back to me, spoke quietly. ‘You’re very like her, Marla, quite beautiful, and if I know my son, innocent still.’

  He reached for me, taking my chin in his hand. I shook my head, tugged against him. But he held fast, clutching my jaw with fingers that bit into my flesh as I stumbled to him. Then he lowered his face and kissed me—caressing, tasting my lips with his tongue. I fought to free myself, dug my fists into his chest and pushed. But I might have been trying to move a mountain. He captured my wrists with one hand, keeping me still with no effort as he brought the other to my face and squeezed, forcing my mouth open beneath his before pushing his tongue between my teeth. Then he released me and I felt myself vanish into him as he wrapped me into his arms and kissed me, passionately and greedily and for a long time.

  ‘I belong to your son,’ I whispered, when he finally ended the kiss. I was shaking and barely able to stand. I was in utter shock—at what he had done, but mostly at my reaction to it. I had enjoyed his kiss. Worse, I had responded to it—voraciously. And I knew that if he wanted another, I would give it to him with pleasure. I disentangled my fingers from his hair and released the pressure of my body pressed to his.

  He looked into my eyes and laughed. ‘Foolish girl! You only inflame me with your words. You belong to me if I wish it. Did you not just prove it with that kiss? You have no say.’

  I stayed silent—I knew he spoke the truth. Leif was no match for him. My betrothed couldn’t save me if his father wanted me. The king was thoughtful for a long moment, and when he spoke, his words—and the tone of them—were terrifying.

  ‘If you care for the life of your betrothed, Marla, my advice to you is to get out of Faera. I will not be thwarted. I will never allow your parents to get the better of me. So leave, before I decide to take you for my own. If the decision be made, you will be mine. Unlike your mother, I will give you no choice. If I wished it, I could take you at this moment. I could make you yield to me. I could make you want me, even crave me. There would be no struggle. There would be only you, falling into my arms, pleading with me to make you mine. So go home, Marla, go back to your human world and never let me lay eyes on you again.’

  ‘Why do you hate me?’ I was crying again, the tears flowing down my face. I had never felt more helpless and hopeless in my life. But nothing could sway him.

  ‘Hate? I don’t hate you, Marla. This is not even about you. This is about pride—my pride. Years ago I forbade your mother her pregnancy as punishment for her defiance. Stupidly, she chose to defy me once more. This is the result of that choice. I won’t lose, Marla. I am king. What is she? Who is she? Nothing and nobody—just common Fae.’

  Defeated, I collapsed to the floor.

  ‘Please, don’t send me away,’ I begged. ‘Leif will never believe I want to leave him.’

  And yet, if he didn’t, he and his mother were doomed. I looked up to the king from where I lay crumpled at his feet.

  ‘Please, King Telophy, have mercy,’ I whimpered. Then I clutched at his ankles, pressed my forehead to his feet. I left tears on his skin as I looked back up to him.

  He watched me, unmoved. ‘Have mercy? Where is my mercy? No, Marla, you will go and I advise you think quickly, my son will not stay long with his grandfathers. And remember: make the story good—he must believe. His life, and that of his mother, depend upon it.’

  He left me then, in no doubt about what I must do. I knew my leaving was inevitable, Leif’s father would never allow us to be together. I pulled myself together; there was no time for self-pity. I had only the time it took for Leif to eat with his relatives to invent a story as to why I couldn’t remain in Faera. Above everything, he must believe it. But how was it possible? He knew what he meant to me, how I yearned to be with him. He knew it because our connection ensured he felt it too. But his life depended on the story. I stood and brushed myself off before checking my appearance in the mirror. I looked terrible, every bit as miserable as I felt. There was work to be done.

  I sat down at the dressing table and got started. I brushed my hair and tied it into a ponytail before decorating it with one of the flowers from the
arrangement on the table. Then I went into the bathroom and poured cold water into the basin. Cold was better, more invigorating, and I needed to think. I splashed the water on my face several times, before drying off and applying lipgloss. I examined the results. I looked more presentable, but nothing could hide the sorrow in my eyes. Perhaps that wouldn’t matter—no matter what story I came up with, Leif wouldn’t expect me to look anything but depressed.

  I returned to the dressing table and plundered my mind for a solution. He would never believe me if I told him I didn’t love him enough or didn’t want him any more. Impossible. I could tell him I was homesick for Earth. But he wouldn’t believe that either—he knew how unhealthy Earth was for me. I could tell him I missed my family and friends too much, but that wouldn’t work either. Leif knew he meant more to me than anything or anyone. I was running out of time. And then I stumbled across an idea that might be remotely believable to him. I prayed I was a good enough actress to pull it off. I had to be. The thought of what would happen if I were not was terrifying. I sat staring at my reflection, jiggling my legs and rehearsing my lines, while I waited for him to join me.

  When he came, he shone. He was deliriously happy, so high that he didn’t even realise my mood. He seized me by the waist and twirled me through the air. Then he pulled me to him and buried his face into my neck.

  ‘Marla,’ he breathed, ‘my beloved, it is over.’ He held me against him and I disappeared into his embrace. With everything inside of me, I tried to capture this moment—his skin covering mine, his hair brushing my cheek, his lips pressing kisses to my face, filling me with shivers. I wanted to keep it all forever.

  And then he lowered me to my feet and leaned away from me, touching his fingers to his lips. I averted my face, not wanting him to see my eyes.