Chills ripped up my spine. “What does that mean?” I instinctively reached for my sword, but I chided myself and dropped my hand back down to my side. My ladies chosen by Merrick were not a threat.
“I’m sorry. Did you ask me something, my queen?” Calista’s eyes drifted across mine, almost milky before they cleared.
The other women stopped halfway down the stairs and peered up at us.
“Are you coming, my queen?” Faelith asked, Farris wagging his tail and lolling his tongue beside her.
“Yes, of course.” Frowning, I started down the stairs beside Calista. “Where can I find more information about the Evergorne family?”
“I don’t . . . know.” Her voice came out deadened. A shudder rippled through her body before she looked up at me, her eyes clear. “Come. We’re dallying.”
“There’s something strange going on here if all the kings die on their thirtieth birthday,” I hissed.
Her head tilted, a frown filling her face. “Wherever did you hear something like that?”
What in all the fates was happening? I grumbled, but it was clear I wouldn’t get answers from my ladies.
Why hadn’t Merrick shared all this with me?
“Is there a library in the castle?” I asked.
Calista dipped her head forward. “Yes, my queen. Of course.”
“I want to visit it this afternoon,” I said.
“Why?” she asked.
To snoop into Evergorne secrets.
32
MERRICK
When Reyla’s gaze met mine across the throne room, the world fell away. All that existed was her. My soon-to-be crowned queen. My light. My possible salvation. I couldn't speak of feelings, but they bounded inside me, growing stronger with each interaction.
Her glorious red hair had been artfully arranged on top of her head with only a few curls teasing the crests of her shoulders. The pale-yellow gown I’d dreamed up hugged her figure in all the right places, showing off curves I was desperate to touch. To claim.
Tightness bunched in my chest, a blend of longing and urgency. Everything depended on one slender woman.
As she walked toward me, a composed expression on her face, her gaze remained on mine. Warmth shone there and it heartened me. It wasn't too late—not yet. Time thrust itselfalong, but I'd never give up, not even as I sucked in my last breath.
Conversation ceased, the lords and ladies on both sides of the aisle craning their necks to watch her walk between them. Some appeared to adore her already. I noted others with flint in their eyes. The room around us held its breath in anticipation.
Pillars lined the walls, their polished marble surfaces gleaming. Between them, portraits of all the prior kings stared forward. If only I could question them all, including my father. Make them give me the answers.
Reyla continued approaching, and it was then that I saw the hilt of the sword thrusting up past her left shoulder, the leather straps with their silver threads sparkling, standing out against the bodice of her gown. And the blades strapped to her waist.
The blood of a warrior flowed in her veins, and I'd no more try to restrain her than I would betray her.
Her ladies fidgeted with the back of her gown and Moira even plucked lint off Reyla's sleeve. They all sent heavy glances my way, seeking my approval, but my gaze remained locked on my wife. What did she see when she looked at me and even more importantly, what did she think? I couldn't take credit for my appearance many had called handsome. I trained for hours almost every day, and that was the only reason my body remained muscular and fit.
Could she see the real Merrick beneath my kingly exterior? I hoped so. She'd need to.
As she reached me where I sat on my throne mounted on the dais, hers empty beside mine, soft whispers whippedaround the room. Her breathing quickened, and my pulse raced in response.
I rose and despite gasps from some, I strode across the dais to greet her. It was her role as my bride to come to me while I remained seated, not the other way around, but I couldn't help it. It felt like years since I'd seen her, touched her, kissed her. Was it only yesterday she'd come apart so beautifully in my arms?
“Reyla,” I croaked.
