“And how is he supposed to do that?” One of the double doors opens, and a man even larger than Xander steps out, his eyes shrewd beneath his helmet. They land on Xander with open malice before they drift to me, narrowing as we come nearer.
“You’re late.”
“Lady Rhea needed extra time to get ready.” The guard scoffs as he looks me over, making me bristle beneath his glare. “Do you need something else, Jerrick?”
The man towering before us snickers, his hand falling to grip the hilt of his sword. “No, Commander,” he grits out, reaching to hold one of the doors open for us.
I want to ask Xander to wait, to explain what he meant earlier, but there isn’t time as he ushers me through the door and into a great hall. The tile color changes to glittering black, my eyes bouncing from it to the hanging red banners above us. A dark wooden banquet table, large enough to fit multiple dozens of guests, is centered in the room, and everyone seated around it pauses the moment the door shuts behind us, making my heart leap into my throat as their eyes jump to us.
“Ah. There she is.” My body tenses at the king’s voice, two servants rushing over to the head of the table to pull out his gaudy chair. Gold glimmers from its edges as he rises, his gaze on me felt even with the distance between us. “Rise.” At the king’s command, everyone rises from their red velvet-tufted chairs, all bowing their heads in deference. Xander leaves my side to stand at his post across the room, but the spot next to me is quickly filled by a different man. He’s dressed in finer clothesthan the servants but nothing nearly as extravagant as the guests that surround the table.
“Introducing, His Majesty King Dolian’s betrothed, your future queen of the Mortal Kingdom, Lady Nele.”
Chapter Forty-Nine: Rhea
Ashockedsoundcroakspast my lips as I turn to look at the man, my brows raised towards my hairline.Thisis what Xander had meant? That the king is going to convince everyone that I’m not his niece by simply calling me a different name? As if that alone could erase the features of both my mother and my father from my face? “My Lady,” the man says, looking at me expectantly as he offers me his arm. I stare at him, dumbfounded and yet oddlynumbto the fact that I was going to have topretendto be someone else at the king’s behest.
When the man clears his throat, his eyes bouncing from me to where I know the king is waiting for me, I put him out of his misery and wrap my fingers on his outstretched arm. I feel the stares of those around the table as acutely as one might feel a blade on their skin, even with their chins resting on their chests.
“You look beautiful, my darling,” King Dolian says, leaning in to kiss my cheek as he forces my hand off of the man’s, and into his own. When I don’t respond, my gaze roaming anywhere but to him, his fingers wrap around my chin and jerk my head forward, forcing our eyes to meet. “You will answer to Lady Nele, and you will regard me—as both your betrothed and your king—with the respect I am owed in front of my people.” I swallow roughly, wincing when he squeezes his fingers more tightly around me. But I don’t agree to his terms. I don’t have to, because the magic of his command has already made the decision for me. He lets his grip tighten a fraction more, a cruel smile tilting his lips before he finally releases me and guides me to an empty chair at his right.
Before I’m even fully seated, a servant appears and reaches for my glass. I stare blankly at the crimson liquid he pours before turning to actually look at him. I had hoped to see the same man who served me juice instead of wine at the previous residence, the one who clearly was working with Xander. But it’s a different man, one still too young to be at the whim of the king but whose eyes don’t hold any of the other man’s kindness. When he retreats, I find King Dolian watching me, his finger tracing the edge of his chalice.
“Sit.” At the command, everyone around the table returns to their seats, easily falling back into the conversations they were having before as if my arrival, and the announcement of my betrothal to the king, is something easy to move on from. But for them, it is. “Drink, Rhea,” he commands, and my hand automatically reaches for the glass. Tipping it towards my lips, Itake a gulp of the bitter wine, waiting for the magic to demand I take more but finding that it retreats after the first drink. I keep the cup pressed to my lips a little longer to pretend I’m drinking more before setting it down, my anger slipping out.
“Ihatewine.”
King Dolian’s cheeks lift in amusement, his eyes moving to his finger lingering on the rim of his chalice. “Yes, I supposejuiceis a much sweeter beverage. Though it might be harder to find here than it was before.” My spine goes rigid when he leans over, his hand covering mine and holding it tightly when I try to pull away. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? That you could outsmart me?” He tilts his head, a breath lodging in my throat as I work to keep from reacting. “Such a shame you were willing to sacrifice yet another life in order to disobey me. Simon was able to persuade him to answer almost all of our questions except how you were able to convince him to help you.”
No. No. No.I know exactly what Simon’spersuasionlooks like. And that servant— He had been so young. But King Dolian is watching me for a reaction, and I’m afraid if I give him one, he’ll start asking questions that will lead to Xander and his mission being exposed. I don’t know much, but what I do know… It would endanger the lives of good people. Of Xander and Eve and countless others.
“Perhaps this is a conversation better had in the privacy of one’s quarters,” he says, releasing my hand to trail his knuckles down my cheek. I search for my magic as if it’s still within reach of my fingertips, a panicked response that I do without thinking. But, of course, nothing answers. King Dolian studies me, keen eyes seemingly seeing right through me, even as another voice I recognize calls his name from his other side. “Iwilluncover every secret you’re keeping from me. Even the ones that were given life in your tower. Keep drinking, my darling. The night is young, and there is still so much I want to do with you.”
I take another drink of the wine, catching the gaze of Simon who sits across from me. Our connection is brief before he turns and speaks to the king, but it still stokes my anxiety higher, the hand not clutching my cup gripping the fabric of my dress at my thigh. Despite making a show of introducing me to his court, no one attempts to speak with me. I’m spoken about, whispers trickling in from the seats next to me by those either too drunk or too obnoxious to care that I can hear them. I know the king watches me from where he is sitting, but even he doesn’t bring me into any of his own conversations. I’m invisible here, nothing more than a prop. A shiny toy for the king to gloat that he’s gotten and then shoved back in a corner to rot behind his shadow.
The evening passes measured by my sips of wine, the alcohol’s effects dulling some of my senses in a not unpleasant way. The magic never lets me get more than a few minutes between gulps before I’m tipping the rim of the glass to my lips again, picking at my food in between drinks to try and keep myself from getting too drunk.
My thumb presses at the pearl ring, and I wonder not for the first time exactly what magic is in it that gives the king such control over me. When Nox was training me, he had talked about not only the importance of balance when it came to having magic but also that of being intentional when wielding it. Is that how the magic of the ring works too? Intentionality? King Dolian had given a lot of commands, and most of themhadbeen very specific, but like with the wine, there were… loopholes. How did the magic differentiate between what I was forced to follow and where there seemed to be a little bit of room for interpretation?
I scan the table as I think, letting my gaze roam between sips of wine, and watch the noblewoman across from me lift her cup in signal. A servant is there within seconds, refilling it without being given so much as acourtesynod. When he moves thepitcher from one hand to the other so he can serve her a second helping of food, I catch a glimpse of the scar on his palm. What did the wording for the blood oaths the servants gave sound like? Eve had admitted that when she was commanded to help ready me, she had to obey, but there were varying degrees to which she usually helped me. Had I inadvertently tested the magic of the blood oath’s boundaries with her then? And then there is Xander, his oath preventing him from outright killing the king, yet he is able to stage an entire rebellion right beneath his nose. The magic that binds them is different than that of the ring, different even than my own. But what if the rules that govern one, govern them all? What ifIcan figure out loopholes in the king’s commands? Not always—not every time—but in instances like this with the wine. Can I try to find a way to mitigate the effect of the command without alerting King Dolian?
“So, Lady Nele,” the woman across from me calls, her voice a high trill against the backdrop of all the others. It startles me, after having endured the majority of this meal alone with my thoughts. I look her over, finding that she is pretty in the way all those with wealth and the means to have whatever they want can be. Her hair is a deep auburn and curled into tight ringlets that hug her head. Her lips are painted bright red, while black lines her eyes and colors her lashes. A teal dress accented with glittering silver shimmers as she adjusts her body to face me fully, her freshly filled glass of wine held aloft in her hand. “We are alldyingto know how you and the king met. You seem so…” Her pause is weighted enough to draw the gaze of said king, as well as Simon and a few others around us. “Unexpected,” she settles on.
Well if there was ever an opportunity to test the magic, now might be it. “Actually—”
“We met when I went to visit Celatum after the princess’s abduction,” King Dolian interrupts, making my grip tighten on my fork as I bite down on my tongue.Gods above, howdarehe.
“Oh yes, such a tragedy,” she says, shaking her head dramatically. “And to know it was one of ourownwho abducted her? Absolutely repulsive. At least you made sure he was taken care of when you caught him.”
“Taken care of?” I ask.
“Well, yes. The king’s Trusted apprehended the rogue guard and disposed of him quickly.”
I can’t help the laugh that rises, a soft bubbling of noise that might not have slipped out had I not had wine filling my belly. Those watching my interaction with the noblewoman stare in confusion, their eyes—like hers—darting to King Dolian’s.
“Darling, I’m not sure our guests understand what is so funny,” he warns, smiling even through the warning laced in his tone.
“Is… something the matter, Lady Nele?”
