But still — even knowing that — there was a small, traitorous part of me that marvelled at the way I looked.
"Perfect," Everly said, her voice warm behind me.
I squared my shoulders, hiding the twist of unease in my gut, and gave a tight nod.
"Let’s get this over with."
Chapter 20
Elira
The doors at the end of the hall loomed larger with every step, towering structures of black oak inlaid with gold. They swung open without a sound as I approached, revealing the king’s private chambers.
The floor gleamed with obsidian under the light of massive crystal chandeliers that threw a thousand fractured reflections across the walls. Tapestries of blood-red silk hung from the high ceilings, depicting grand battles and victories where the king himself always seemed to feature at the centre, larger than life.
At the far end of the cavernous chamber sat King Ashton.
He was sprawled on a monstrous gilded throne, upholstered in deep crimson velvet. His body overflowed the seat — rolls of flesh barely contained by his ornate, ill-fitting garments stitched with gold thread. Despite it all, he wore a self-satisfied smirk, swirling a goblet of wine in one hand as if he were the most desirable man in the world.
His small, greedy eyes raked over me as I entered, and I had to force myself not to flinch.
"Ah, Elira," he drawled, his voice as thick and sticky as syrup. "Come closer, my dear. Let me look at you."
The thick smell of wine, sweat, and too much perfume hit me as I stepped forward, every instinct in my body screaming to run.
But I didn’t.
“My, my, aren’t you … delectable.” He said softly.
I walked with slow, steady steps, the crystals on my gown catching the light as if daring him to look closer.
I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing fear.
“Your majesty.” I said, my voice cold.
The table before me was laden with a feast fit for royalty, yet none of it mattered. The roasted meats glistened with honeyed glaze, fresh bread sat warm and inviting, and bowls of fruit offered bursts of colour and sweetness. The scent of rich sauces and spices filled the air, teasing my senses, but it was impossible to ignore the heavy weight of the situation.
“Please, do sit,” he urged, his words slow and deliberate.
I nodded as a seat was pulled out for me by a servant. My body was stiff and awkward. My stomach felt twisted in knots.
I didn’t like being alone with the king. I felt exposed.
A plate of food was put in front of me, along with a glass of wine.
“So, how are you finding your new room.”
“Fine, sire. But unnecessary.”
“Unnecessary?” the King sat back in his chair. “Do you not like it, my dear?”
I flinched at the endearment. “It’s too much. More than I require.”
“I just want you to be comfortable.”
“Then perhaps you should have left me in the streets.” I snapped quickly. “Sire.”
His eyes darkened in calculation. “Indeed.” He took a hearty gulp of wine and watched me until I picked up my own glass.
