Dahlia spends the rest of the week both ignoring me and taking Pumpkin out on as many dog walks as the poor creature can manage. With Claren, of course. Not me.
I watch her through the window of my meeting chamber, my shoulder leaning against the glass. She’s walking by a hedge maze, the tired puppy curled in her arms while Claren follows along beside her.
A few nights ago, I loosened her collar enough to allow her to wander the castle grounds freely. She never thanked me, but I don’t expect her to.
After what I put her through in the throne room, I wouldn’t be surprised if she never speaks to me again.
“Has there been any word from Elheart?” Thobas asks the table of demons behind me.
I don’t look back as Kennix replies, “Not yet. We know his messenger arrived back safely, but otherwise we’re in the dark.”
“Are we still moving ahead with the wedding tomorrow?”
Outside, Dahlia laughs at something Claren says, and my lips twitch. She tips her head back, starlight dancing over her features. I press my palm to the glass.
“We should. Elheart may be waiting to see if we actually go ahead with the ceremony,” Kennix replies. “If Tauren marries her, it will force him to act before he takes her virtue. This will be his last chance to claim his bride back.”
“Elheart will not get her back.” I turn from the window to find my half-dozen advisers staring at me.
“Sire?” Kennix breaks the silence.
“Elheart will not get her back once I have married her,” I repeat. “If he does not return Maeve to us tonight, then Dahlia will belong to this court permanently.”
“But we can still use her as a bargaining chip.” Thobas ignores my glare. “If we alert her father of her capture and offer him the same trade, Elheart may be forced to hand over Maeve or risk Sol’s armies.”
Kennix nods. “We could threaten harm against her to hurry the process.”
My molars clash together.
“Threatening to impregnate her should do it. Sol won’t want a half-breed as a grandchild—” Thobas is up against the wall with my hand wrapped around his throat before he can speak another word.
“You will not refer to any of my future wife’s children as fucking half-breeds,” I spit. Kennix hauls me off him before I can kill the old fool. Shrugging him off, I march towards the window.
“Forgive me, sire,” Thobas wheezes, but I ignore him. Dahlia is now sitting on a bench with Claren beside her, Pumpkin curled up in his lap. They look so peaceful. The anger inside me calms with them.
“Tauren,” Kennix says, stepping up to my side. The rest have left the room. He must’ve dismissed them. “Is everything alright?”
“I’m fine.” I keep my gaze on Dahlia. Two young demons approach her. Males. They’re nobles, but I can’t recognise them from here.
“You seem distracted. Is this about Maeve?” Kennix asks.
One of the demons says something that makes Claren slide Pumpkin off him and he stands up, his fists clenched.
I move closer to the glass. “I said I’m fine.” The taller one shoves Claren, and he shoves him back. “Who are those boys?” I ask Kennix, my heartbeat quickening.
Kennix peers through the window as Dahlia stands up, her face with red anger.
My stomach sinks. Kennix doesn’t have time to reply.
When one of the boys raises his fist at her, I sprint out of the meeting room.
My heart is in my throat by the time I make it over to the bench, my gaze fucking murderous. I don’t care whose son that demon is, I’ll end an entire bloodline if that boy dares touches a single hair on her?—
I skid to a halt, my jaw slack.
Dahlia is straddling the boy, one fist gripping his shirt while the other slams into his bloody face. “Call me Tauren’s whore one more time, arsehole! I dare you!” she screams.
Claren stands by the hedgerow a few feet away, holding back Pumpkin, who’s barking protectively. The other boy is on the ground, covering what seems to be a puffy eye.
