Everything was dark greys and light creams with silver and black accents throughout. The sitting room was his favorite with three sofas arranged around the hearth. There were a set of armchairs near the window with a low table between them. A set of doors led to a balcony that faced to the east, with a set of furniture out there as well. Bookcases lined the walls, some filled with books, others with various trinkets and framed art. A roomoff to the right housed a small washroom, so one didn’t need to go far when needed.
“There is a dining room through the door on the left,” he continued to explain. “Through the door on the right is a hall leading to various rooms. A study. Washrooms. A small den. Library. Extra bedrooms. The king and queen’s bedchamber is at the end of the hall with its own large bathing room, where that bath is being prepared for you.”
“I can take a bath in my own bathing chamber,” she spouted, wandering around the sitting room.
“And you will.”
She paused, looking over her shoulder. “You just said it was the king and queen’s shared bathing chamber.” When he remained silent, she said, “We are not sharing a bathing room or a bedchamber for that matter.”
“Part of the negotiations, I suppose,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets.
She crossed her arms, the two of them once again facing off across the room from each other.
“Do you not like the space?” he asked. “We can have it redesigned however you wish.”
“Then Iwishfor separate bedchambers for the king and queen.”
His features fell flat. “I meant the decor. Not the layout of the entire floor.” When she continued to stare back at him, irritation prickled his skin. “Are we negotiating before or after you bathe?”
“What, exactly, is the proposal here?”
Now it was then.
“Sit,” he said, motioning to the sofas. She moved stiffly, and he took a seat on the one across from her. “I require a wife, and you need to avoid a public trial and likely execution for trying to kill the king.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” she argued. “A dagger to the thigh will not take you to the After.”
“Yes, but I’m afraid the people of Avonleya won’t see it that way,” he said with faux sincerity. “Pity if rumors started spreading that would confirm those suspicions.”
Her jaw clenched, and he could see her grinding her molars.
“But if that same person werebetrothedto the king, I’m sure he could clear it all up as a misunderstanding,” he went on. “Ensure the protection of her that he’s been offering her the entire time.”
Her chin lifted. “And my arrow?”
“Once the union is binding, it shall be my marriage gift to you,” he answered, settling back on his sofa and draping an arm along the back.
“Gifting me something that is rightfully mine,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes and sinking deeper into her seat.
His head tilted. “What other gifts would you like from me, tiny fiend?”
“My own rooms.”
“No. The staff will gossip if we are found to be sleeping in separate rooms.”
“How in the realms would they discover that?” she asked, her exasperation creeping into her tone.
“When they clean,” he said simply.
“I’ll clean myself.”
“We are not cleaning our own floor,” he said dismissively.
“Did you never learn how? You’ve simply been catered to and pampered your entire life?” she threw back.
“For fuck’s sake. They’d gossip even more if we started cleaning our own space. They’d think we are running out of funds and can’t afford to pay them,” he ground out.
He watched her think that over, and by the gods, he wanted to know what she was thinking. What arguments was she internally having with herself?
