“You need your marks for the Bonded you killed in the arena,” he says plainly.
His words hit me like a splash of cold water in the face.Fuck.
It’s not that I’ve forgotten what I did.
How I entirely lost control in front of everyone, how I effortlessly killed so many of the Bonded who had just graduated the Trials. But between Saela, the Sovereign Alpha’s arrival, and mynightmares, it’s been easy to ignore my own vicious, ruinous mistakes.
I took those lives, and it’s my job to remember them.
I step aside. Stark doesn’t look at me as he enters my chambers. I listen to the gentle tap of the ink bottle as he sets it down on the low table next to the chaise. My chambers are still dark. Quiet.
And the two of us are excruciatingly alone.
10
MERYN
I desperately need to move my body so I don’t fall apart thinking about the Bonded I’ve killed. Or the tattoo I’m about to receive—and the way my skin might feel when Stark licks it.
My face flushes. The last time he tattooed me, when we were at the war camp in Grunfall… something almost happened between us, even though I was with Killian, even though I was sure I hated Stark. And that was when we were in a tent, with other soldiers on the other side of the thin canvas.
Busying myself, I grab a matchbook and light candles and oil lamps around the living area until there’s enough light for us both to see clearly.
“Where’s Anassa?” Stark asks, still not looking at me.
“In the woods.”
He nods toward Saela’s room. “And—”
“She’s asleep.”
Stark gestures toward the room before him, now obvious in its disarray. His upper lip curls in disgust. “What is this?”
It’s not just my bedroom that looks like an avalanche ofthingshas collapsed on it. The living area is covered in clutter.
All the outfits Brionna had me try on are scattered over the furniture. Used tumblers of water sit on at least four surfaces. There’s a half-eaten plate of fruit on the dining table from this morning that is emitting a slightly rotten sweet smell. A pile of books on the floor must’ve toppled over at one point and is now just… a mess of books, I guess we’d call it.
“What do you mean?” I ask innocently.
He steps closer to me, a dangerous, quiet rage alighting in his gaze. “I noticed this in your bedroom the other night, too. Are the servants refusing to attend to you? That isnotacceptable. I’ll speak to Matron Alienor immediately and—”
I hold out a hand. “Stop. I appreciate all the, uh, angry energy you’re willing to toss around on my behalf, but I do have a primary attendant now.”
He looks back at the room in confusion. “She needs to be replaced, then.”
“I told her to leave the stuff,” I tell him. “It’s a disaster and I caused it, so it’s weird having her clean it up. I’ll do it myself. Eventually.”
Stark huffs, a vicious blast of air. “That is her job, Meryn. She ispaidto clean it up. Are you truly comfortable living like this?”
I shrug. “I’m not used to having this many things. It’s kind of nice.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s disgusting.” He scowls deeply at me, and I realize he’s used to getting what he wants with this look. It’s the warning rumble of thunder before the sky splits violently apart. “Clean up your fucking mess, princess.”
“What happened to ‘my queen’?” I ask, bristling at his commanding tone.
“Act like a filthy little princess and get treated like one, Your Highness.”
My eyes widen, and heat, needy and insistent, pulses through me. I cough and look away, hoping he didn’t see the absolutely ridiculous effect his bossy words had on me.
