Page 99 of The Nymph King

The agreement pressed in around Imani, each voice transforming a possibility into an expectation.

Her face heated, but she kept her expression still as stone. It wasn’t that she didn’t want children. She had simply learned long ago not to assume they would come. Fertility had been declining among elves for generations, enough that every birth carried political significance now. Heartmates conceived far more easily than other pairings, but they were not the only ones capable of having children.

And she and Ellisar had the advantage of both being elves. Matches within the same type of breed produced children more often than mixed-breed pairings did, even without a heartmate bond, which made an Heir Apparent possible. But possible wasn’t the same as promised, since the Fabric chose the monarch.

“I’m confident that Imani and I will secure the future of this realm together with an Heir Apparent,” Ellisar said, lacing his fingers with hers. “When we have children, and if the Fabric deems them worthy, they inherit a kingdom built to endure .”

Her jaw nearly fell open at the conversation swirling around her. Everyone around them was already speaking as if possibility had become certainty, including Ellisar.

Old feelings of being backed into a corner without choices surfaced… stoking a flame of fury that only grew worse as the night wore on.

CHAPTER 29

The vicious, smoldering anger caged inside Imani’s chest flared the moment they crossed the threshold. Their heavy door clicked shut behind them, severing the square’s noise and leaving the chamber thick with everything left unsaid. The manor’s stone walls, low firelight, and narrow windows created a suffocatingly quiet space.

Imani refused to step any further into the room. Moving would require a level of composure she was unwilling to maintain. Her stance stayed stiff—shoulders squared, chin raised—while she clenched her fists. The restraint she had maintained during the celebration dissolved in this private moment.

Ellisar stopped a step behind her, his presence a heavy anchor in the silence.

“Imani—” he started.

She whipped around, eyes blazing. “You don’t answer a question about an Heir Apparent like our children are already a decided fact,” she said. “You didn’t raise the subject. They did. But you were the one who told them what our children would inherit before you ever asked whether children were part of what I wanted from this.”

Ellisar sighed, an exasperated sound. “I was answering a political question.”

“You were answering a personal one in political language.”

He let his eyes fall shut for a second, then leveled her with an unreadable look. “They needed to hear stability, and an Heir Apparent is part of that. Given what we’ve seen across the realm, uncertainty is the one thing we cannot afford.”

“Necessity doesn’t give you the right to present it as final,” Imani hissed. “I know you want a family, but you’re defining something we hadn’t discussed. I’m not objecting to the future, Ellisar. I’m objecting to the assumption that you can name it before we’ve chosen it.”

A flicker of unease passed across Ellisar’s face, then he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not deciding for you. I’m preparing the ground for what the kingdom will demand the moment they ask what comes next.” He stepped closer, refusing to retreat. “They’re not watching for sentiment, Imani. They’re watching for permanence. An Heir Apparent removes doubt, stabilizes your rule, and closes the questions we’ve seen in every region we’ve crossed. It makes us harder to challenge, together, in a way nothing else will.”

The tension pulled taut until it quivered.

“Everything you’re describing builds a fortress around a relationship that hasn’t even had space to exist,” she said, crossing her arms. “You’re outlining permanence, stability, legacy, before we’ve even figured out what we are when no one is watching. You’re asking me to let the kingdom define us, and just trust that we’ll find our way into it afterward.”

Imani blew a piece of her hair out of her eyes before adding, “I agreed to bond with you because the alliance made sense. That gave us a bodily bond and a public commitment. It didn’t promise you would have my love. It did not promise sex whenever politics required it. It did not promise children. And it did not make you king because the magic chose you.” She pointed to her chest. “I made you king.”

His expression darkened, but he let her continue.

“You rule beside me because I chose to place authority in your hands. We share power because I trust how you use it. Those are political decisions. Whatever happens between us when no one is watching is something else entirely.” She motioned between them. “Bonding is one thing. Wanting you is another. Loving you would be another. Having your children would be another. None of those gets to become inevitable because a council prefers a simpler story.”

Ellisar put his hands on his hips. “I know the mating did not grant me your Crown of Life. I know you made me king. And I know children are not owed to me.”

“Then why speak as if they already exist in our future?” Her voice sounded shrill.

“Because they were not asking whether we had discussed children over breakfast,” he said. “They were asking whether we intend to let this reign end with us. I answered the question they meant.”

“With my body.” He shook his head, but she cut him off. “Yes,” she said. “That is the part you keep dressing up as succession.” The air warmed with their mutual stubbornness. Imani stepped closer, shoving a finger toward his face. “You don’t get to decide what we are just because the kingdom wants it defined.”

He allowed the words to sink in, his brow furrowed. With the pause, the flow of the argument faltered. His nostrils flared, and he gave her a once-over, as if he no longer cared about winning the debate. His gaze crawled over her like he was evaluating her, observing her defiant stance… and heat burst behind his eyes. Despite her fury, a hot blush stained Imani’s cheeks.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she muttered, dipping her head slightly.

“Like what?”

“You know what.”