My father studies me, displeasure evident on his face.
“Tomorrow, then,” he agrees. “I suppose we can find someone to perform the purity test tonight.”
The fuck we will. No one is touching my wife.
“There will be no purity test,” I announce, hand still tight around Mayah’s.
“Zevayr,” my father says sternly, leaning forward in this throne. “If you suspect the princess is impure, I cannot allow—”
“I took the liberty of … inspecting Mayah’s purity. During our journey.”
A deafening silence falls over the room. I cut my gaze to Mayah—her cheeks are a furious crimson, lips pressed into a thin line. I hope she can forgive that lie.
“Took many liberties with my betrothed, did you?” Faramir purrs menacingly. His eye twitches.
“A happy coincidence that Mayah ismybetrothed now,” I snap. “No harm done.”
“She isnow, but—”
“Enough.” My father raises a hand, and Faramir reluctantly falls silent. “Zevayr, get your betrothed settled, then return here. At once.”
The words have scarcely left his lips when I’m ushering Mayah from the throne room.
“You,” I call to the nearest servant, a reed-thin man with a neatly pressed uniform. “Prepare the finest chambers in the east wing for my betrothed.” The man scrambles off to his task, while I pull six guards from their posts in the corridor.
“If so much as a gentle breeze dares to touch her, if even an invisiblesplinterpierces her skin, you will each suffer a slow and brutal death. Your screams will echo for weeks. Your families will have nothing to bury. Do. You.Understand?” I snarl, making sure every man meets my eyes in turn.
The guards nod frantically, faces white.
I turn back to my betrothed. My heart warms at the thought.
Mine.
“I’ll keep you safe, Mayah,” I promise. Her eyes are wide and uncertain. I squeeze her hand once more, and then walk back into the throne room.
My father is livid. I’m surprised he hasn’t murdered me where I stand. Muscles tense, I half-expect a bolt of lightning to incinerate me. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s obliterated someone who displeased him, right here in this very hall.
And I’ve just foiled his plan against Tundrayn.
“What is the meaning of this, Zevayr?” he hisses, veins bulging in his neck.
I cross my arms. “I brought Mayah here, as you instructed.Youwere the one who changed the plan and said she’ll marry me instead of him.” I jerk my head toward Faramir where he sits sideways in his throne, legs thrown over the side, his crown dangerously askew atop his blond head. “How is it my fault you didn’t plan for her to accept?”
“You didn’t have to agree!” he shouts, spittle flying through the air. Just as quickly, he inhales sharply, then leans back in his throne, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I could’ve kept her here, had Tormik dancing to my every whim.”
“She can still remain here,” I grit out. “As my wife.”
“That’s not the—” My father breaks off, huffing an exasperated sigh. Faramir has yet to say a word. His sharp gaze is fixed on me. I can only imagine what wheels are turning in his unhinged mind.
My father tries to regain some semblance of control, his every word measured. “What happened between you two on the journey?”
“I’ve grown to”—I cast another wary glance at Faramir—“care for her.”
“Clearly. You’re smitten. It’s pathetic. The whore spread her legs and—”
A crack of thunder rattles the throne room, so powerful that they both flinch. Faramir’s crown clatters to the floor.
But I don’t register the sound over the blood rushing in my ears. The sky darkens, smothering the light from the room. The air crackles, electric currents in the air vibrating with my rage.
