Page 20 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

He’d assured me we could have separate sleeping chambers, but maybe tonight, with champagne and giddiness filling me, I wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with Lorcan Wolfgang.

He flung open the door and turned, our faces inches apart. His dark eyes widened in surprise like he hadn’t expected me to be this close.

“I hope you like it,” he said. “I had the royal suite redone for you.”

His hand was still twined through mine, and I let out a half laugh, hardly hearing what he said, just staring at his full lips, the swell of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

He leaned down, lips close to mine. “Aoife,” he said in a low voice that sent a shudder through me. “I only wanted to give you your wedding gift. I don’t expect anything in return.”

Before I knew what I was doing, my finger was trailing up his hard chest, circling the dark hairs. His eyes flashed, breathing growing erratic, lips hovering so close to mine that I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to close the distance.

I leaned up to whisper in his ear exactly what I planned to do to him when I caught sight of the room over his shoulder.

The feel of chains closing over my wrists enveloped me. Cold, hard metal, rough and rubbing my skin raw.

I stepped back and grabbed my wrists, feeling the roughened, raised skin and remembering the way I knelt by that exact same crackling hearth, stoking the fire for Fairwitch, building it every morning to their exact liking. I whirled to face the big windows on the back wall, staring at the dark forest that spread out behind Fairwitch Isle, the same windows Fairwitch threatened to throw me out the one time I’d refused to rebuild the fire. I’d already built it four times, and Fairwitch wanted me to snuff it out and start again for the fifth time. I’d turned and told them if they were so particular about their fire, they should probably do it themselves.

I could fling you out this window right now, Fairwitch had threatened while they stared at me with their cold golden eyes. No one would miss you. No one would even know you were gone.

The dark marble floors under my heels were so shiny, like someone had just polished them, and I felt the wet sponge under my hand, more memories barraging me. I would scrub tirelessly, Fairwitch never happy with my work, forcing me to scrub until my hands were raw and blistered.

Lor put a hand on my arm. “Aoife,” he said. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t stay here,” I said, voice sharper than I meant as I wrenched out of his grasp, the moment between us ruined.

I didn’t want to be touched right now.

“What’s wrong?” His entire body tensed, brows furrowing.

I let out a shaky breath. “I won’t stay here. I can stay with . . . Ambrose.” He was the only person I could think of in the moment, but I immediately realized I’d made a mistake saying the faerie’s name.

“Ambrose?” Lor asked sharply, and I nodded, feeling a familiar stubbornness rise up in me.

A muscle feathered in his jaw. “You can’t stay at Ambrose’s house.”

Anger shot through me. He couldn’t command me. He wasn’t my king. “Why not?”

He looked at me in disbelief. “Because you’re queen of Fairwitch Isle, and you need to start acting like it.”

I took another step back, shocked by his audacity. “Excuse me?”

His jaw locked underneath his stubble. “I’ve allowed you time these last few months. I haven’t asked that you attend any meetings or attend to your queenly duties because I wanted to give you space. Time to see your people, time to come to terms with all of this, but you need to start acting like the queen Castle has deemed you to be.”

He’d said a lot of words, a lot of things that stoked my building rage, but my mind lingered on one single word. “Allowed?” My hands bunched into fists. “You’re allowing me? You are not in charge of me.”

He clenched his teeth together. “If you don’t want to sleep in this room, don’t want to be next to my chambers, that’s fine. But you do have to stay in the castle. You can’t just keep sleeping wherever you feel like.”

So his room was next door. “Why?” I asked. “What’s wrong with me staying where I choose to?”

“What if there’s an attack?” Lor asked, exasperation filling his voice. “You’re queen. You have to be in the castle so the royal guard knows exactly where you are and they can do their jobs and protect you.”

“They’ll know where I am at Ambrose’s,” I said, knowing he was making sense, that I would be safest here, that a queen should reside in her castle, but I couldn’t stand his tone, the way he was speaking to me, commanding me just like Fairwitch had, like I wasn’t a partner but someone beneath him.

He was pacing now, shoving his hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “What if someone decides to target Ambrose’s house because the queen is residing there? Would you really put him at risk, Aoife?”

I swallowed thickly. “I’m sure we have guards at our disposal⁠—”

He whirled to face me, anger rolling off him in waves. “We don’t. If you’d attended any of the meetings you were invited to, you would know that. We don’t have the resources to stage guards outside someone’s house. Like I said, if your objection is sleeping in the room next to mine, you do not need to worry. I have no intention of invading your privacy, of making unwanted advances on you⁠—”