It was hard to sleep when he was so close, rendering me lost to all the many reasons as to why he might not be interested in seeing me. Lost to wonderings of what he was doing, if he ever slept or merely lazed around in an arrogant kingly fashion, I kicked off the bedding as an unexpected sweat broke out across my flushing skin.
After breakfast, I was leaving the dining room when I felt the first ripple in my new and perhaps not-so-magical world.
A bellowed curse was followed by a crash.
Florian had a warrior pinned to the wall with his forearm at his throat. The golden vase from the hall table was now in endless pieces on the floor. “You know better than to have heart for those who had none for us. You will go back and fucking take it, understand me? There is no room for a pretty little conscience within this court.”
The male started to protest, then shouted in pain as his cheeks changed from a ruddy red to blue. Ice crawled and crusted over his skin, cracking as Florian spoke. Cracking and peeling and tinkling to the floor with skin and blood.
I didn’t hear what he said. All I heard was the ice hitting the ground with clinks that echoed.
My leftover breakfast—breakfast I’d intended to take to Snow—fell from my clammy and numb fingers to the floor.
I was staring at the remains of the vase, but all I could see was porcelain plates.
All I could hear was Rolina’s voice. If you didn’t exist, then she would be here.
Hands gripped my cheeks.
I flinched and stumbled free of Florian’s hold.
He scowled, long fingers curling into his palms before falling slack at his sides.
The male he’d been furious with was gone. Not even Olin lurked in the hall. I looked at the ground, at the melting blood-tinged ice and broken vase, then to the oats and fruit.
My racing heart sank. “Snow’s food.”
“Snow?” Florian questioned.
“M-my wolf.”
He stared at me for the longest time, as if unsure how to proceed. My chest was too tight. Air came and left me in short bursts.
My heartbeat was a drum I tried to ignore as I lowered to the ground and began to gather the broken porcelain and food.
Softly, Florian ordered, “Leave it be.”
“She’ll only get mad again.”
“Snow?”
Realizing what I’d mumbled, I shook my head and drew in a deep breath. Perhaps the lack of sleep was to blame. My exhale hitched, the ringing in my ears decreasing.
Seemingly done with treading carefully, porcelain cracked beneath Florian’s giant and polished boots as he crouched to the ground before me. He gently captured my hands and plucked and brushed the broken plate and food from them. “Look at me.”
I lifted my eyes to his, and he swiped a tear I hadn’t known had fallen to my cheek. His features lost their severity as he brought his damp thumb to his mouth and sucked. “She did this to you.” It wasn’t a question.
I frowned, about to ask who he spoke of.
He gave me a reproachful look that said not to bother lying. “The woman you were left with as a babe.”
I swallowed and made to stand.
He stopped me with a hand at my chin. His eyes searched mine, and I said, “I’m fine.”
His jaw rocked. “You flinched at my touch.”
I tried to smile. It trembled as I said, “You are quite terrifying, Majesty.”
He scowled again, though I didn’t miss the spark of amusement, or perhaps something else, in his vivid gaze. “Go clean your hands.” Taking my arm, he made me rise with him. “I’ll arrange some proper food for this wolf you’ve stolen from fate.”
“I didn’t steal her,” I protested. “Fate led me to her.”
He brought my hand to his mouth with a lowering of his lashes and an inhale that loosened the stiff set of his shoulders.
Then he strode down the hall and left me forgetting why I’d ever been fearful at all.
I sat in the armchair within my dressing chamber for far longer than intended.
Perhaps it was the size of the room, which was more in line with what I was accustomed to, but I found comfort in the space. In the deep-blue, maroon, ivory, and crimson clothing that glinted and hung from wooden hangers.
I was no longer trapped within the middle lands.
No longer would I need to squeeze into a corner in the hope of going unnoticed to avoid someone’s wrath. But lifelong insecurities and survival instincts were hard to escape, and I’d foolishly believed that crossing a warded veil with this king who wished to make me his wife would magically change everything.
Florian could clothe and shelter me and change my surroundings to suit his plans, but he couldn’t change who I was.
Only I could.
Before I could be called for lunch, I decided to leave my preferred nightwear behind. I donned a dark-blue gown that fell to my feet in shimmering pleats, my coat, and a slim pair of black leather ankle boots.
Then I reached under the bed to the dusty corner that hid the gold coins I’d brought with me. I stared at them and tucked two within my coat pocket.
It was time to continue the hunt for what I needed.
Maybe then the life I’d left behind would not succeed at haunting me.
Florian’s study was one of the first rooms in the hall adjoined to the entry foyer, and it would seem my quiet steps from the stairs weren’t soft enough. He left whomever he’d been in discussion with. “Going somewhere, sweet creature?”
Though I’d been caught, I couldn’t keep from smiling as I turned to him. “To the city.”
He muttered something that sounded like, “Of course you fucking are,” behind his hand. I frowned, but before I could ask why that was a problem, he said, “You cannot leave without a guard.”
“What in the skies would I need a guard for?”
“Because I said so,” he said, looking tempted to strangle something. Hopefully not me. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And to keep you from finding trouble.”
I scoffed and headed for the doors, although I longed to stay and study every inch of his powerful form wrapped in the fitted uniform of a warrior. “I’m an expert at avoiding that, don’t you worry, Majesty.”
“You’ve mothered a wolf.” His hand seized mine. I squeaked in shock as he tugged me into his chest. He curled some of my untamable hair behind my ear. “You are my betrothed.”
A fluttering erupted in my stomach at the reminder, at the sweltering wonderings of what that might eventually entail. “I am indeed.” I clutched at the rough blue material of his royally decorated jacket.
His fingers traced the curve of my cheek. My eyes closed at the gentle touch. When he reached my chin, he tipped it high, and my eyes opened to deep blue. “You do not go anywhere without me or those I have assigned to escort you.”
I blinked several times. I’d known he would not be impressed by my plan, but I hadn’t realized it would be such an issue. “Surely that is un—”
“Hush.” My brows rose, but I lost my annoyance when his lips squashed mine in an unyielding embrace. He was spearmint and whiskey, a spiced heat that forced my submission. I gladly surrendered, but then he tore away. “You’re a thorn in my ass, butterfly.”
I scowled. He thought I was the thorn?