“Salara?”
Norah opened her eyes to find large pools of black brimmed with concern staring back at her.
“Say something,” he pleaded.
“How long before you can do that again?” she whispered.
The corners of his lips turned upward. He slipped his arms underneath her and laid his head between her breasts. “What are you doing to me?”
A smile crept across her lips, and she drifted into the sweet arms of sleep.
Chapter forty-four
Norah woke with the morning sun, her eyes hazy with sleep. She stretched languidly and sat up, alone in the bed. It had been the most restful night she’d had since arriving in Kharav. The warmth of Mikael’s body next to hers lulled her into dreaming; his skin brought the sweet scent of comfort.
Vitalia swept in. “You look like you had a very good night,” her maid said with a grin as she piled the mix of clothes together that had been cast to the floor.
Heat flashed across her cheeks. It was strange to think of it as a good night. But it felt good between them, her and Mikael. More than good.
Vitalia poured a cup of water, set it on the side table, and laid out a new dress across the bed.
“Where is he?” Norah asked.
“He left early to go see the lord commander. He said to let you sleep a while longer.”
The windows let the sun pour in, and Norah smiled under its beams. Everything felt in its place.
“How long will you stay here before you move to the wives’ villa?” Vitalia asked.
Norah jerked her head up. “The what?”
“The villa, where the king’s wives are.”
Her heart stopped in her chest.
“What wives?” What wives?
Vitalia looked at her in surprise and then backed up slightly.
“What wives?” Norah asked again, her voice shaking.
Her maid swallowed. “Salar’s wives.”
Horror flooded her. This couldn’t be true. “He has other wives?”
“Forgive me, Salara,” Vitalia said quickly. “I thought you knew. You saw them at the betrothal celebration.”
Then she realized. The women. What were their names again? Rasha. Myral. Heta.
They weren’t sisters. They weren’t meant to keep her company.
They were his wives.
It hadn’t even occurred to her. Norah stumbled up from the bed, her mind reeling. She shook her head, unable to speak.
“It’s normal for Salar to have many wives,” Vitalia told her.
Normal? “So, I’m just one of many?” she asked, trying to hold back the flood of emotion overwhelming her.
“Only you are salara,” Vitalia explained. “You assume the highest status of them all.”
Norah bristled. “I don’t want to be the highest. I want to be the only! How is this normal?” Her heart felt it would burst from her chest. Shame flooded her.
“Salar’s father had seven wives. His father before, five.”
“How many are there?” she demanded.
“Only three.”
Only three. Norah drew in a shaky breath as an anger grew inside her. She’d foolishly believed the king felt something for her, something he hadn’t felt before. But he had married before, brought a woman to his bed before. Three times before. At least.
Her eyes welled. What she and Mikael had wasn’t special. She bit back the pain. She wouldn’t let herself be another woman to him. She was a queen, and now she was salara.
“Find him,” she said with bitterness thick on her tongue. “Now.”
Norah sat silently on the edge of the bed, waiting. The heat of embarrassment flushed her cheeks.
She hadn’t even realized. How could she not have realized?
Mikael stepped into the chamber, and she rose. When he saw her, he paused. “I don’t think I’ve ever been summoned before,” he said as he draped his cloak on the side chair by the window. While his words came in jest, there was a slight edge to them. He was offended, perhaps.
But she didn’t care.
He let out a long sigh. “I’m told you’re displeased about my wives.”
“That’s an understatement,” she said icily. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His head tilted slightly, and his eyes narrowed. “I presented them to you.”
“Not as your wives!”
“Who did you think they were?”
True, she could have asked who they were, but it wasn’t a question she’d even considered. Just then, her stomach clenched. We shall be good friends, she’d told them. The embarrassment was unbearable. She wanted to crawl under the quilts of the bed and never come out. But not this bed. Not his bed, not ever again.
“And kings have many wives,” he added. His tone carried an air of dismissal.
“Mercian kings don’t!”
“I’m not a Mercian king.”
“I’m a Mercian queen, and you’re my husband!” she snapped.
He snorted, and she could see his own anger rising. He wasn’t used to being challenged. “Fine,” he said cheekily as he lumbered toward her. “I won’t marry any more.”
She let out a quaking breath. “That’s not good enough.”
Mikael used his size to back her against the edge of the bed, where the fire in his eyes intensified. “It’ll have to be.”
Anger radiated through every fiber of her being. “It’s not. And you’ll fix it,” she demanded.
“What do you expect me to do?” His voice came edgier now. “The marriages simply are. There’s no pretending they didn’t happen.”
“You’ll annul them.”
His nostrils flared. “How am I to do that?”
“You’ll figure it out, or you won’t be married to me.”
“You can’t unwed me,” he scoffed. “It’s done. We’ve consummated it.” His eyes burned into her. “I know you now. Would that not bring dishonor in the North?”
He seemed to be mocking her, and it hurt.
“You don’t know me,” she hissed back. “And I won’t recognize you as my husband unless I’m your only wife.”
“So, this is the benefit of a Witness?” he cut back. “I’d thought it was a Northern perversion, but perhaps I’ll require one now. I’ll make the whole world watch.”
A flash of fury swept through her, and she delivered a sharp slap across his face. He bared his teeth with a growl against the sting. She tried to strike him again, but he caught her hand.
“Is it a fight you want?” he snarled.
Norah wrenched against him, but he held her. She fought harder, making them both stagger sideways. As she flailed out, her hand knocked the water basin on a table close by. She grabbed it and swung with all her strength, hitting him squarely in the temple. The force of the blow broke the basin, and he lost his grip on her as he stumbled backward and crashed to the ground.
“Curse it, woman!” he roared as he brought his hand to the side of his face. A deep gash poured blood into his eye and down his cheek.
She gasped in concern, but only for a moment. Her fury swelled back, pushing her concern aside, and she turned and fled the chamber.
“Salara!” he bellowed.