My mouth opened, but his voice cut me off, a command sheathed in charm.
“We’ll want three heirs ideally. One to bind the alliance, two for contingency. I assume your line breeds true. Elyrien’s royal blood hasn’t shown signs of dilution, has it?”
“I’m not—” I stopped. My throat felt like it had closed around the words. Kaelen leaned forward.
“Your kingdom needs this. My kingdom needs this. And we’re both attractive enough that it won’t be unbearable.”
His gaze flicked over me then, slow and appraising in a way that made my skin crawl. It wasn’t the admiration I sometimes caught in Erindor’s eyes. There was no awe, no reverence. Only assessment.
“Are you still a virgin?” he asked, like he was inquiring about a horse he intended to buy.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
His hand slid forward, fingers brushing lightly against my thigh. Not lewd. Just enough to imply ownership.
The room closed in around me.
“I—that’s none of—”
“It matters,” he interrupted. “To the perception of the union. The purity of our future heirs.” His voice was low now, close. “I intend to be king of more than Caerthaine one day, Wynessa. And I need a wife who understands the necessity of appearances.”
I jerked my leg back. My breath had gone shallow, fast.
But he only smiled, leaning back as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t touched me. As if his words weren’t stripping the flesh from who I thought I was.
“Don’t look so pale,” he smirked. “This is what you were raised for, isn’t it? To be useful.”
I rose to my feet as quickly as I could, scraping my chair across the floor.
“I think we’re finished.”
“Not yet.” His voice followed me to the door, lazy and cruel.
“Shame the wilds didn’t take you when they had the chance.”
I didn’t turn. I didn’t give him the satisfaction.
Something kindled within, not with fear or shame, but with the steady, growing heat of a new resolve. It was the deliberate ignition of a fire that had lain dormant, sharper and older than mere obedience.
Gideon was waiting beyond the arch.
His smile vanished the instant he saw my face.
“You’ve got a terrible card-play face,” he murmured. “Want to tell me what he said?”
“Later.” I cleared my throat. “I…I need some air.”
He studied me with narrowed eyes, then nodded. “You have ten minutes before I come storming through the halls.”
I gave him a ghost of a smile and turned away.
I didn’t know where I was going yet.
Only that I couldn’t stay still.
I didn’t realize I’d taken a wrong turn until the sconce light thinned and the walls turned into unfamiliar older stone, the plaster here veined with hairline cracks. No silk hangings, no polished tile. Bare corridors and the smell of old wax and older secrets. I paused at the hall’s bend, breathing in shallow gulps. The air felt heavier here, like the castle’s bones were thicker in this part of the world.
Behind me, soft footsteps approached.
