The king raises a brow. “What do you thinkyou’redoing out here in broad daylight where anyone could see?”
Kian laughs darkly. “She’s my wife. I can do with her what I like.”
I fight the urge to snap at him for that comment, reminding myself it’s surely an act for the king’s benefit.
The king frowns. “I’m not sure if this is just part of whatever ploy you have going on, but either way, I thought I raised you better than that. Do whatever you like to her in your rooms, Kian. Keep it out of sight.”
Kian wilts at his father’s harsh tone.
I attempt to discreetly fix my dress and hair as the king speaks, mortified at my actions despite the fact that I was caught kissing my husband and not some random stable boy.
“You are expected to act with the decorum befitting your role as prince. You have responsibilities to our land, and dallyinglike this only makes you look like a spoiled child. You have been a waste of space and resources long enough, and I’m tired of putting up with your bullshit. Yes, you may have finally settled down, but it appears your behavior has not changed. I’ve heard talk of you and Alex coming and going from the palace all hours of the night. Back to partying again so soon after your marriage? I am so disappointed in you.”
The king’s words are clearly meant to hurt, and they hit their mark with precision. Kian curls in on himself as each barbed insult digs deeper.
“Perhaps I should send you away from court for a time. Don’t think you’re off the hook for your lies and deception, but lucky for your wife, our people seem to approve of your choice. You two can go work on some heirs in case your brother’s unborn child dies like the last three.”
I try to hold back a gasp at that revelation. I always wondered why no royal heirs had been announced over the last decade. I had no idea. My heart instantly breaks for Princess Juliana and the pain she must have gone through losing children.
“Father, please don’t be so crass,” Kian begs.
“If you can’t behave like a prince, it’s not beyond me to strip away your title,” the king threatens, completely ignoring his request.
As Kian tries to placate his father, my mind drifts away, still muddled from the breath-stealing kiss we shared. But suddenly, it feels wrong. It feels forced. Did he know his father was coming? Did he kiss me to try to prove a point?
Rationally, I know Kian hasn’t been at parties, and I should be glad the king isn’t suspicious of his actual activities, but a tiny part of me worries that it’s not the entire truth. I want to trust that he won’t dally where people can see him—he promised to be discreet. It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been pining aftermy own husband all these weeks, wondering why he hasn’t been spending time with me.
I can’t even comprehend what the king and Kian are saying at this point. I need a moment to think, to breathe.
I’m struggling not to think the worst as I push off the wall and murmur, “Please excuse me,” to the king, dropping into a quick curtsy before running off, praying to the gods I didn’t just commit an unforgivable sin by leaving without being dismissed.
I race into the palace, but I’m not sure where to run. Our rooms aren’t safe—Kian will find me there—so I keep running and running, not knowing where I can possibly go in this large palace I have yet to fully explore.
“Raelyn!” a voice calls out, and I stop short. I’m not sure if I should be happy to see Dylan again or worried that we’ve bumped into each other twice in the same day. “Are you all right?”
I nod frantically, trying to calm my racing heart. “I just need a quiet place to be alone, and I still don’t know the palace well,” I try to explain.
Dylan nods. “Follow me. I can help.”
Unsure of what else to do, I decide to go with him, even though something within me tells me it’s a terrible idea.
Dylan leads me up a few flights of stairs and down some unfamiliar corridors before bringing me to a secluded sitting room that looks like it hasn’t been used in quite some time. Sheets are draped over furniture, and the curtains are drawn. It’s almost shocking to have found a room in the palace that’s been neglected by servants; every other room I’ve passed during my stay here has always been immaculately dusted and ready for guests at a moment’s notice.
“What is this place?” I ask, blinking when Dylan pulls the curtains open and dust motes become visible in the beams of light.
“It’s a guest wing that hasn’t been used in quite some time,” Dylan says matter-of-factly.
“I can tell.” I sniff before letting out a sneeze as the dust tickles my nose.
“Galyna bless you,” Dylan offers, and I give him a weak smile.
“I’m not sure if this is quite what I had in mind.”
“You look parched. Can I get you something to drink?”
“From where?” I laugh awkwardly.
“I like to come up here to get away from people, so I keep a stash,” he explains as he rummages around, producing two relatively clean glass tumblers and pouring an amethyst-looking liquid into them.
