The elf didn’t come any closer, but even if he did, Hellebore wasn’t sure she would notice. Her voice came out of her mouth, but she had no awareness of speaking. It was like she was watching from the ramparts, a stranger in her own body, with no control over what happened next.
“Who... uh...” Her tongue was heavy and everything numb. “Was there a nobleman, an alchemist by the name of Emerson, my brother's friend—did he have any part in any of this?”
King Taiyo shook his head. “He might have been in the room, I don’t recall. The only time his name was mentioned was by Prince Callahan saying Emerson would make an excellent King’s Alchemist.” He paused, shifting his weight as a strain entered his tone. “Did you... expect him to protest?”
Did she?
“No… No, I was… just curious who they wanted to succeed the King’s Alchemist if… if not me,” Hellebore said, gaze dropping to her hands. She'd been right. Things between her and Emerson hadn't been serious.
When she said nothing more, King Taiyo moved to sit in the chair, pulling it up to butt against the table and putting himself directly in front of her. When she looked up, she saw that he was pulling out a jar of salve and a roll of bandages from his pocket. He gestured to her wrists and said, “May I?”
Nowhe wanted to ask for permission? If she’d been in control of herself, she would have refused, but whatever strange, docile spirit that was possessing her would not let her go.
She held them out. He took the first one and she hissed as he applied the salve to her wrists. “My apologies, Princess, for your treatment. My guards’ treatment of you only contributed to the situation, making you think we were enemies.”
Hellebore didn’t have the energy to expend to figure out if he meant it or if he was just trying to placate her. Did it matter?
“I hit you with a trowel and accidentally poisoned you. How about we just call it even?” Hellebore said, lips twitching up in a smile so she didn’t cry. There would be nothing worse than crying in front of an elf. No, actually, there would be nothing worse than crying in front of the elf who was insisting he was to be her husband after he’d dragged her to his castle kicking and screaming.
Taiyo looked up from her wrist and at her shoulder where a bruise peeked out past her collar. She wasn’t expecting hishand to leave her wrist and gently pull at the fabric to expose the bruise to his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as his warm, soft fingers traced the skin around the bruise, a darkness entering his eyes as he looked at the mark.
His voice was low, lips barely parting as he said, “They should not have treated their king's betrothed and their future queen as such. I commanded them to do you no harm even when you resisted.”
Right. He may have thought initially that she was willing, but then he'd thought she'd run away and pursued her anyway. He thought she was willing to kill him to escape marrying him, and yet his plans had not changed a stitch. He didn't care if she agreed or not. He just wanted her to for his conscience. This marriage was happening regardless.
Her breath stuttered and she pressed herself back into the sofa as far as she could. His hand hovered in the air, and his lidded eyes lifted from the bruise, focusing in on her face.
Whatever he saw in her expression had him pulling his hand back, brow furrowing and scowling as he returned to her wrists.
Hellebore’s heart was pounding in her chest and her stomach was turning. She was just as much a captive against her will now as she had believed she’d been since she arrived. She had no say in this. This elf would do whatever he wanted with her. Her cooperation was a preference, not a requirement.
But she still let King Taiyo bandage her wrists.
As he finished her first wrist, he whispered, “Princess, this is not what either of us want—”
“Stop it. You don’t have to put on an act.” She narrowed her eyes as they met his, steeling her voice. If she was furious, she couldn’t also be afraid. “Nothing has truly changed.”
He frowned, eyes darting between her face and his hands as he began bandaging her other wrist. “I—I can move the ceremony back—not much, but enough time for you to send aletter. Hopefully long enough for you to come to terms with this—”
She ripped her second wrist out of his hands and moved to secure the bandage herself as she glared at him. “But letting me go isn’t an option. It doesn’t matter if it’s tomorrow or two weeks or two months, the outcome is the same. My answer is a formalityyoucan do without. You will force me to marry you.”
His hands curled into fists as his brown eyes burned as bright as the fiery orange ends of his hair spilling off his shoulders. There. Apparently, what it took to crack his façade was the truth. He had no patience for his own foul deeds. He spat, “Do you think I want to marry a creature such as yourself?”
“With that tone, obviously not!” Hellebore dug her nails into the sofa, hoping it hid the way they were shaking. “Clearly, you have some other motivation here. Something obviously powerful enough to overcome your revulsion to humans and your hatred of alchemists. How could I ever hope to be able to dissuade you if those two things alone couldn’t?”
“Will it help?” Taiyo’s voice was frigid, sucking all the warmth out of the room.
Hellebore focused on each beat of her heart, echoing in her ears, the organ doubling as a metronome for her to cling to as her throat tightened. “What?”
“Everything my people think yours are, you believe about us in return, don’t you?” Taiyo’s lip curled into a sneer. “You think we’re the monsters. You have to in order to be able to kidnap us to drain us of our blood just so you can find a new way to light a room because you aren’t born with any real ability, just the power to manipulate ours.”
“Neither of us were alive in those days. I went after a flower, not a person.” Hellebore took a deep breath. “Now, do youreallywant to talk to me about kidnapping?”
Taiyo’s jaw clenched as he leaned in. Every instinct in her screamed at her to move, but she stayed in her seat.
“Will it help if I act the part of the monster for you? Is that what you’re looking for? Do you want to be a martyr in your mind?” His breath brushed her cheek as his hand braced against the back of the sofa, trapping her between him and the arm she was clutching. “If you make me be the villain, I will be.”
Taiyo’s eyes dropped to her lips, skimming over her dress before coming back to her eyes. “But I’d rather not be. It’s up to you. Either way, Iwillbe your husband.”
