Page 21 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

“And like I told you the day you broke my curse, I would kill you if you tried.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Must you be so difficult?”

“Must you be so self-righteous?”

He spread out his arms. “Why won’t you stay in this room? I can’t help you if you won’t open up to me.”

I could’ve told him. I could’ve told him every sordid detail of my time as a slave here. I could’ve told him how I was mistreated in this room countless times, but I didn’t want to remind him that I was a slave anymore than I wanted to be reminded myself. He already didn’t see me as his equal, and I refused to give him any more reason to see me as inferior. Besides I shouldn’t have to tell him any of it for him understand. It should’ve been enough for me to say I didn’t want to sleep here. That should’ve been the end of this conversation.

“We all have to make sacrifices, Aoife,” he said, voice hard, and I wondered what he could possibly know of sacrifice. “Especially as king and queen. We have to do things we don’t want. Like getting married.”

His words were a punch to the gut, all the hope I’d held for this marriage knocked from me.

“Good to know how you feel about marriage,” I said, voice stiff.

“You answer to your people.” He jabbed a finger at me. “You owe them doing your absolute best, being the queen they deserve. That means not wasting our precious resources because you want to sleep at your lover’s house.”

So he knew about me and Ambrose. I could’ve corrected him, told him that Ambrose and I hadn’t been lovers since our betrothal, but I was too angry. Let him think what he wanted.

I raised my chin, hating him so much. Hating him with every fiber of my being. “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to. And I don’t answer to anyone.”

He shook his head. “Then you don’t deserve that crown on your head.”

And with that, he walked away, clicking the door closed behind him as he went into his room without so much as a backward glance.

CHAPTER 9

Aoife

Ismiled at the crowd of mortals and Fair Folk who filled the small space, dancing, laughing, and talking. This was what we’d needed all along.

I couldn’t believe I’d let myself forget the heart of the Fair Folk, what helped us thrive and brought us together while we were enslaved—it was gatherings. Around food, games, dancing. It was tradition. And this was entirely ours, our music, our spirit.

Best of all, this would irritate Lor to no end.

He’d be furious, but then he’d see that I was right, and it would plant the tiniest seed of doubt that he was what Fairwitch Isle truly needed.

This was just the beginning, of course. He’d still insist he was what was best for our people, but the more I implemented my own plans, the more I undercut his and irritated him, and the more our kingdom thrived, the more he’d realize just how unfit he was to be king. I pushed away my own seed of doubt and focused on my plans, my goals.

That was the thing about Lor. He was so principled, so righteous. If he truly thought I was better for Fairwitch Isle, he would give up the crown. He’d do what he thought was right. Always. At any cost.

I whirled to face Ambrose, his golden eyes sparking with mischief and delight. It made me want to dance. With him. Just like we used to under the godwitches’ noses.

I grabbed his hips and rolled mine playfully—and maybe a bit seductively.

“Your Majesty,” he said, a smile tugging his lips.

“Ambrose.” I lowered my hand, resting it on his strong shoulder. “Does this remind you of anything?”

“It reminds me of many things,” he said, his voice low, sending heat pulsing through me, and suddenly we were back in a familiar time, one where we stole moments together and hoarded joy like treasures.

Maybe this would close the distance between us, and we could at least be friends again. Ambrose’s hands gripped my waist tight, desire sparking inside of me.

Ambroses’s gaze flicked toward the door that opened, and I followed his eyes to see all the Wolfgangs had arrived. Lor looked furious, just like I expected he would, but I didn’t care. For once, I was choosing for our people.

Ambrose sighed, some of the light dimming from his eyes. “Lovely, I know yours is just a marriage of convenience⁠—”

“Nothing about my marriage is convenient,” I said, voice darkening. “It’s been so long, Ambrose.” I dragged a finger down his navy blue tunic, and he stiffened. “Too long since I’ve felt your body.”