AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I narrow my eyes. “Is that so?”
“Only that I wanted to meet him.”
My king winks. “I can certainly arrange a meeting.” To me, he mind-whispers, “She wants an invitation to El’jah’s party so she can see what the fuss is about.”
“No,” I say.
My king smiles and repeats my earlier words. “Is that so?”
“It is so. You are threatening to send El’jah after the Spring queen. You’re doing that so I’ll take her instead. You might not order me to marry her, but you’re suggesting he’ll take her from me.”
“I didn’t realize she was yours.”
“Fuck.”
The king laughs. “My friend, I won’t need to send El’jah. When the bright though inexperienced queen realizes El’jah is the only one who can secure her throne and give her what she needs this spring heat, she will request him.”
“No,” I say with much less conviction.
“Yes, D’Artaron, yes, I can smell her heat, and I am mated, so I can only imagine what her lovely orchid scent is doing to you. What it will do to my brother.”
“We’re leaving.” I push back the chair and slam my hands on the table, leaning into my king’s personal space. “I will secure the Spring Court and protect its queen while rising to the challenge of suppressing my mating urge the way I’ve dealt with it for decades. I’ll destroy it as I have in the past.” Besides, she doesn’t smell like orchids.
17
CHLOE
The moment we return to the safety of the Seelie court and the commander leaves, promising he’ll be right back, I freshen up, then sit on the bed, mentally running through tonight’s events.
First and foremost, we breached the Winter Court, whose ruler happens to have the power to destroy fae kingdoms in a single night and do so effortlessly and without mercy. But by the fates, the excitement of doing something so dangerous with D’Artaron makes me smile. I would never dare. Hell, one time, my older sister dared me to steal a box of tea from Ms. Elson’s storefront, and I accepted that dare, only to walk inside the store and pay for the tea with the coin my brother had given me to buy meat.
Yet, when it comes to D’Artaron, I seem to dare quite a bit. The bath. The breaching of the Unseelie court. With him, the most daring endeavors seem effortless and exciting, even safe, when they’re not. He makes everything appear easy. All I have to do is follow along and lean into his strength and support, which is precisely why I wish I didn’t find him so handsome.
And the Summer king… Being the subject of his attention felt as if the sun had turned toward me and forced me to stare at it until tears ran down my cheeks. His beauty is severe, his mind sharp, and his language direct and coarse, yet somehow also palatable. When he talked about coupling, he spoke of it as if it were the weather, suggesting the commander put a baby inside me as if he’d be stuffing a piglet full of apples.
I can hardly believe D’Artaron punched him in the face, and the king took it as if it were an ordinary thing that happens when they interact. He could’ve asked for his head.
What would I have done if he had?
I bite my lip. Nothing. I no longer have access to the force of my magic, and if I wanted to avenge D’Artaron, I’d need a lot more than the ability to project light onto the vanity mirror.
Heavy boot steps over stone announce the commander’s return. He walks into the room carrying a single dress. It’s another black dress, with emeralds decorating the upper hem of the corset. He shrugs off the sack he carries over his shoulder and tosses it on the bed next to me.
“Your Majesty,” he says, sounding formal. I pull back my shoulders immediately. He just has that effect on people. I feel like a soldier about to be briefed.
When D’Artaron starts pacing the short space, I’m sure he’s thinking he’s addressing his troops.
“The people in the Spring court are none the wiser, so chaos hasn’t spread onto the streets,” he says. “This is a good thing. But we have no intelligence from inside the court, mainly because this was a planned attack. A coup.”
“Orchestrated by the Spring king’s brother?” I ask. Such things often are.
“Yes.”
“He’s claimed the throne, then.”
“Likely.”
“So I’m not a queen?” I ask, my voice high-pitched, revealing my excitement.
