But if he knew, then he was intentionally leaving her confused, and that was…a cruelty she’d always known he possessed. A cruelness that was only the beginning of what he was capable of, despite how well he kept it hidden from his people. Even she was questioning herself, which is why these little reminders weren’t a bad thing.
“Let’s go to dinner,” he said after a moment, and he sounded beyond weary. He sounded as if he hadn’t slept in weeks, and maybe he hadn’t. She wouldn’t know outside of the two nights he slept in the same bed as her.
“No,” she replied, working to keep that one word controlled rather than a shout of defiance.
He’d made it a few more steps before he stilled once more. When he turned to face her, he was rubbing at his brow, stray silver strands framing his face, dancing across his sharp cheekbones and brushing his jaw.
“Kailia, I cannot do this with you right now,” he said, still not looking at her.
“But I wish to discuss this now.”
“No.”
“You and that godsdamn word,” she growled, unable to keep her irritation from her tone any longer. She’d taken two steps towards him before realizing it, her fingers inching toward the dagger.
But he…
He had taken two steps back.
“If you won’t discuss this now, then I won’t go to dinner tonight,” she said plainly, trying to figure out what kind of game he was playing this time. He never backed away from her. If anything, he crowded her while somehow also giving her space. It was a perplexing contradiction she’d spent far too much time contemplating as of late.
“Then you won’t be upholding your end of the bargain,” he said just as simply. “You know. The convincing part.”
“So you are allowed to come and go as you please, but I am required to attend whatever you demand?” she asked. “Is that how your parents portrayed the thrones as well?”
“My parents are not part of this discussion.”
“I have no one to model the desired actions, Cethin,” she said, her ashes vibrating. Hersoulvibrating with confusion and anger and a helplessness she hadn’t felt in a very long time. A helplessness she’d vowed never to feel again, and yet since coming here, that very emotion had been slowly winding around her. Tightening. Strangling.
“This is something we can discuss later,” he said, again turning away from her.
“Then I will see you after dinner. Or tomorrow, I suppose. Since spending time with me in these rooms is as appealing to you as sleeping in the stables with the horses,” she snapped.
He turned back, that exasperation turning into something a little darker. A simmering fury at what she could only assume was her pushing back. A king was used to being obeyed without question, but he was the one who’d made her his queen. If anyone was at fault for any of this, it was him. He was at fault for all of it.
“I find the stables quite comforting actually,” he answered, and she felt her mouth drop open. What kind of answer was that?
It took her a moment before she said, “That sounded like you’d prefer to sleep with the equine rather than spend any amount of time with me.” When he only stared back at her, she added, “If that is the case, then I truly do not understand why you care if I’m dancing with Razik, spending time outside these walls, or if I were to find my way to another’s bed because?—”
Darkness rippled, a wave of inky fog undulating along the floor until she was standing in a knee-deep flood of magic. The iciness of it had her gasping, sharp pricks of bitter cold against her flesh that had her whole body shuddering. Not from the cold but because it wasn’t fire.
He was a few steps away from her now, and she wasn’t entirely sure when he’d moved. But that darkness drifted in his eyes, making them look like swirling silver orbs.
“Do not ever suggest sharing another’s bed, wife. The day you took that Mark, you became only mine,” he snarled, his magic pulsing with each word.
She lifted her hand, flipping it over to look at the Mark on her palm. She could swear it had a pulse of its own, beating at an erratic rhythm. Bright as the hidden moonlight, she’d spent a good portion of her nights these last weeks wondering if it had been a mistake. If she should have found another way. But spending too much time on the what-ifs distracted from the things she could control. The pieces she could move and the outcomes she could guide.
“You have nothing to say to that?” he demanded, his hands fisted as he shoved them into his pockets.
“So now we are discussing things?” she asked. “Minutes ago, you said you didn’t wish to discuss anything. If that’s no longer the case, explain your reaction at the dance studio.”
“Kailia!” he barked. “You can’t…” He trailed off, pulling his hands from his pockets. One went to his hair, remembering toolate that it was tied back. His fingers got caught in the strands, more of them falling free.
“If you can’t, then I can,” she retorted, taking one step, the space between them fraught with tension but something more. Something she couldn’t name, but something that made her want more of it. “You do not get to throw a fit when I am simply trying to do what is required of me. The Union Celebration is next week. I understand there will be dancing required. I am trying to prepare for what will be expected of me.”
“Then ask me,” he snapped, his breaths shallow and sharp, as if he was wrestling with some kind of unseen threat.
“When?” she cried. “When am I supposed to ask you? When you’re absent during the nights? When you’re gone all day? Between conversations when I’m on display at meals? You shoved me into an arena and told me to fight with no training. Which is fine. I’m used to such things, but you certainly don’t get to question how I teach myself to fight and survive when you can’t even be bothered enough to ensure I have proper weapons.”
