Page 24 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

She was delusional.

“I could shut this dance down right now,” I said. “The people respect me. They know I have their best interest at heart. They’d listen.”

I’d worked hard to prove myself to the Fair Folk, to show them that I truly cared about their plight, their curse, their history. Everything. Because I did care.

“You could,” she said, “but I’ll throw a fit. I’ll make a spectacle out of the whole thing. Don’t you dare take this from me, Lor.”

Her voice shook, an underlying emotion bubbling up with those words. Maybe this wasn’t just about getting at me. Maybe this dance meant something to her that I didn’t understand. But, damnit, she’d never tell me. I knew virtually nothing about the woman I’d been married to for two years—other than she hated me. I’d tried to get her to open up about her past, her likes, her dislikes, but I could never get past whatever walls she put up.

I pressed my lips together. “We’re not enemies, Aoife. I still believe we can find a way to work together, to be the king and queen Castle wants us to be.”

She looked away, jaw locked. “We’ll never be husband and wife.”

I knew that. We were too different. Or too similar. Or maybe too much of both.

“You said Castle chose both of us to be its rulers.” My wife’s face hardened. “Well now Castle is asking one of us to cede the crown. Clearly it’s changed its mind.”

She was so stubborn. So sure I was out to get her.

“You’re impossible,” I said, knowing my anger was getting the best of me. “I truly cannot imagine what Castle ever saw in you.” I spun her sharply, and she clutched tight to me, nails digging into my shoulder. “I have yet to see the great warrior queen I’ve heard so much about. All I see is a woman determined to do everything in her power to undermine her husband, even at the cost of her people.”

“How dare you,” she said. “You know nothing of the sacrifices I’ve made.”

“Maybe that’s because you won’t talk to me. About anything.”

“I wonder why,” she said.

Someone cleared their throat, and I jolted. At some point during our argument, the music had stopped, everybody staring at me and Aoife as we still danced. I’d forgotten there were people here. It had all faded away, and I’d lost myself. Something I absolutely hated. I needed to remain in control, to maintain the image of king our people needed. For the greater good. Just like Arthon taught me.

Aoife’s eyes widened as she looked around, then pushed herself out of my arms. People shifted from foot to foot, avoiding eye contact while some murmured and pointed.

“We danced like this once before, Aoife,” I said, trying to fix this situation, like I was always fixing the messes Aoife made. “We danced at our wedding, and it was nice.” I sighed. The town hall was already ruined, so I might as well give in this one time. “Let’s try again,” I whispered, holding out my hand.

Aoife swallowed thickly, and I wondered if she was remembering our wedding right now, too, the one where I held her in my arms and enjoyed it. “Maybe,” she said, “but that was a lifetime ago, and this dance? It’s over now.”

She spun on her heel and stalked away, leaving me in the middle of an empty dance floor.

CHAPTER 11

Lor

Metal clanged against metal as I trained with Wolfe in the courtyard, the backside of the castle standing tall behind us, partially blocking the sun. Sweat rolled down the sides of my face, tendrils escaping the loose bun that held my hair back.

I yelled out as Wolfe and I pushed our swords together, at a standstill, both of us straining, muscles taut until finally I kicked out a foot, attempting to trip Wolfe, but my older brother jumped and spun. He jabbed an elbow in my gut, and I bent over wheezing.

“You’re distracted,” Wolfe said.

Of course I was distracted. Things between Aoife and I were tenser than ever, and I couldn’t even talk to her about it because she was avoiding me. Like she always did.

We dropped down onto the grass, and Wolfe handed me a canteen of water.

“Thank you,” I rasped.

He looked over at me, breathing still labored. “I’m not good at this,” he said slowly. “But . . . do you need to talk about it? This thing with Aoife?”

“Did Niamh tell you to ask that?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe. She told me if I didn’t she’d kick my ass.”