It turned out I also didn’t imagine the lights, as we passed over a small town that was eerily quiet. Where was the music? The laughs from people sharing a drink with a friend?
It seemed as lifeless as I felt.
Unable to keep them open any longer, my eyes fluttered shut and I went entirely limp, giving up on caring about what was happening. It seemed I wasn’t meant for this world much longer as the thudding of my heart in my ears began to slow.
My only regret was that I’d not been able to make a difference for my people. There were no other heirs to marry off. If I died now, the treaty would be broken, and war would likely ensue.
What a shame that no amount of training could have prepared me for my life to go in this direction. This morning, I’d been full of hope in meeting another woman who shared my desire to train with a sword, surrounded by protective love from Tillie, and filled with pride in how far my skill had come in sparring with Brenson.
Now? None of it mattered.
“Theo—you had one job after signing the treaty!” a man yelled, jolting my mind to try and hold my consciousness to listen. “Keep your new queen alive. Is that seriously too hard a task for you?”
If I could have forced my lips to move, I’d have smirked. The feeling of solid ground pressed against my body once more.
“I forget how fragile humans are,” a familiar, deep voice rumbled.
So, Theo was the name of my husband and captor.
There was a scuffle of feet in my direction, but they halted when a yelp sounded.
“I was just going to carry her to her chambers, Theo! She needs to be warmed—now.”
My body felt like it was vibrating as a deep rumble spread through the ground and into me.
“I can carry my own wife,” he snapped, “and she will be staying in my chambers.”
Yeah, there was no way I wasn’t actually dreaming already. It seemed my consciousness was playing tricks on me, lulling meinto an alternate reality where someone actually cared about my well-being, and that someone was my new husband.
As if.
Chapter Seven
THEO
Rivulets of sweatcascaded down my body, drenching my shirt and trousers until they clung to me like a second skin. Even after shrugging out of my coat, the heat in my chambers was suffocating. The fire roared relentlessly, casting an orange glow over the opulent furnishings that adorned the room. In all my years of occupying this room, the fireplace had served as mere decor, until now.
I swore to myself things wouldn’t change when I brought my wife home, and here I was, less than two hours into her arrival, making a liar out of myself.
An undine dragon king, catering to a mere human.
As I gazed upon her sleeping form sprawled on my bed, my initial instinct was to call her a wench under my breath. But instead, I found myself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the furs that Lucius had dropped off at my door as I got her settled.
I never thought such a derogatory term could begin to feel like a term of endearment, but she had a way of turning everything upside down.
Lucky me.
I’d need to find a new word of insult, and soon.
The thought had a scowl gracing my face as I turned to look out the balcony I’d landed on with her in my clawed grip earlier, fearful that I’d been too stubborn in my actions with her thus far, bringing her to the brink of death.
Lifting a glass of scotch to my lips, I took a deep draw from the burning liquid while contemplating the ways this arrangement could turn out.
I wouldn’t weep if she died, but it would be a considerable inconvenience, to say the least. The humans didn’t have another heir to offer me, and despite her father being a shortsighted fool, I didn’t think he’d take fondly to my request for a replacement.
Setting down my empty glass, I shed my shirt and stepped out onto the balcony, letting the frigid winter air embrace me. A fleeting thought crossed my mind to close the doors behind me, for her sake, but I quickly dismissed it, annoyed with myself with how easily I’d fallen into caring for her.
You can’t let her die, Theo.
