“Perhaps Nullens can find their fated mates as well,” Delaine said, though she didn’t sound convinced. I suspected she knew what Ivenrail planned to do, that her father had shared it with her. “You’re not the natural daughter of the Nullen king.”
“I’m not.” Brenna’s voice trembled. “My mother found me wandering in the gardens. I was very young. She claimed me as her own, and the king did too. He loves me as if I’m his true daughter.”
“Did you tell them who you were?” Delaine asked.
Brenna shook her head. “My mother said she pressed me for information, but all I would say was my name, Brenna. Not where I came from or anything else. No one came forward to claim me.”
“You didn’t remember anything?” Delaine asked.
“Nothing,” Brenna whispered. Her chin lifted. “I can’t be fae, however. I have no magical abilities, no power.”
Oh, but she did. I suspected it was as repressed as Nullen magic. It just needed to be awakened. Would the king do that for her, or would he ask Vexxion?
“I’m Nullen through and through,” she added. “OnlyNullen.”
“Of course, my queen.” Delaine hugged Brenna. “Congratulations. A mating mark is such an honor. Imagine. The king is your forever love, and you’ll always belong to him.”
Brenna’s face took on a sickly green slant. “Yes, it’s wonderful. I’ll be sure to show it to him at breakfast.”
“He’ll be incredibly happy. He worships you, as you well know.” Delaine scanned Brenna’s frame and must’ve decided she was ready to face the day, because she gave her a pert nod. “Shall we go to breakfast now so you can tell him?”
Before Brenna could reply, someone knocked on the door.
“Who could that be?” Delaine asked, striding over to the panel. She cracked the door but stepped backward quickly, her hands rising to cup her pinkening cheeks.
A blond fae male strode into the room dressed in a light blue tunic with golden ornaments on the shoulders and sleeves. His dark blue pants hugged his muscular frame. He’d be handsome if his sharp eyes didn’t cut through the room, dismissing all of us, even Brenna, before returning to Delaine. “Your father said I’d find you here.” Lifting her hand, he kissed it.
She stepped closer and gazed up at him in complete adoration—or so it appeared to me. I wouldn’t have thought Delaine had enough heart to care for anyone but herself.
“When did you arrive?” she gushed.
His eyebrows lifted, though he kept hold of her hand. “Last night.”
She pouted. “And you didn’t come see me?”
“How remiss of me. I do apologize.” He cleared his throat. “Everything’s going according to plan.”
What plan?
“Ah! Delightful,” Delaine crooned. “It’s about time.”
“You’re correct. It’s time.” With that, he pivoted and strode from the room.
Her breaths sputtering from her throat, Delaine clutched her hands to her chest, staring at the closed door.
Brenna huffed, her spine stiffening. “Who was that? Why did he feel he could enter my suite, speak with one of my ladies-in-waiting without requesting the right to do so, then depart without even a goodbye, let alone an introduction?”
“That’s my fiancé,” Delaine breathed. “It’s time, he said. We’ll finally marry.”
Was this the fiancé her father tried to force on her years ago or had the high advisor respected her wishes and found someone else?
“He’s handsome,” Brenna remarked.
Delaine sighed, turning around, nearly swooning against the back of the door. “Isn’t he?”
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Lord Kerune Vestigard.” Delaine swallowed thickly. “He’s the king’s new enforcer.”
