His expression darkens. “Is that the only way you can imagine kissing me? Under the pretense of a glamour? Am I really so disgusting to you?”
“Yes, you’re disgusting.” I slide from the bed and to my feet, eyes locked on him, ready for any sign that he’ll pounce. “Only a disgusting creature would use a glamour to seduce a woman.”
He shakes his head. “If that’s what helps you sleep at night.”
“Speaking of sleeping at night,” I say, moving to the wardrobe. I grab a nightdress, a robe, and a heavy blue gown. “The bedroom is yours again. I’ll sleep in my parlor.”
“You liked your parlor, then?” He grins, eyes alight with mischief.
I don’t rise to the bait. With my head held high, I stride to the doors, ignoring the attention of the guards waiting outside. “Oh, and by the way,” I call out behind me, “your mother’s here.”
The last thing I see before I slam the doors is Aspen’s look of utter horror.
Chapter Thirty-One
The couch in my parlor isn’t nearly as comfortable as Aspen’s bed, nor the couch in his room that I’d been sleeping on while he’d been recovering. I don’t know how much of that is due to a discrepancy in quality or from the weight of my humiliation.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Aspen’s face, feel Aspen’s lips, hear his breath in my ear. I see myself pulling him closer, hips writhing against his. The fire ignites all over again, and I hate it. I cover my eyes with my hands, as if that could banish the visions in my mind. As if it could make me forget the taste of his lips.
My humiliation turns to fury when I wake the next morning. I go over my list of reasons why I hate Aspen, King of the Autumn Court.
I hate that he glamoured himself.
I hate that he tried to seduce me.
I hate that he made me feel out of control.
I hate his lack of apology.
Hate the way he looked at me.
Hate the way he kissed.
The way he breathed.
The way his hands felt on my—
A knock sounds on the parlor door.
Snap out of it, Evie.I steady my ragged breathing just in time to greet Lorelei.
“You’re requested on the balcony,” she says, looking both flustered and pleased. “The king has fully recovered and will be holding audience with Queen Melusine.”
I furrow my brow. “The balcony?”
“That’s where you had the mate ceremony.”
“Yes, but why are we going there?”
“Aspen holds court there. It’s his throne room of sorts.”
“I see.” I twist my fingers together, anxiety building in my chest. “Must I go?”
“I think it’s wise. You’ll be sitting at the king’s side where his queen would be. It’s a bit of a power move, hosting his mother before his throne as opposed to over breakfast.”
“I suppose that does sound important.” My heart sinks. I think of all the pruning and prodding Foxglove did yesterday to make me a suitable match for the Sea Queen. Am I ready to face her so soon? Better yet, am I ready to face Aspen so soon?
Lorelei’s mouth quirks at the corner. “You’ve clearly got a lot on your mind. Care to share?”
