“I care,” he growls. “I don’t want you to jump out a tower window, sparrow, because I’ve clipped your wings and you cannot fly.”
The heavy regret in his voice stabs at me. Of course, he’s afraid that I’m going to hurt myself. Especially after the conversation about Colette. And as much as I want to take him up on his offer, I’m also not going to manipulate him into it. Not with his feelings.
Or maybe, I simply don’t want a gift that’s actually something that belongs to another woman. A dead woman.
“I don’t want to be a token that you’re using to try and salve your guilt.”
“I’m not,” he says. “You are brilliant. I was listening to you talk to Dr. Swift. I don’t understand half of what it is either of you said, but you are brilliant. And the world should have your brilliance. If I keep you in a cage, then all of your gifts stay in that cage with you. It is a disservice to you, and to everyone. You deserve better. Better than that. And I have changed my mind. I’m not going to keep you caged. I’m going to allow you to go to school. If that is still what you want.”
The grief that I’ve been processing since we left Oxford crashes on me now in a wave. To think that this is right in front of me. That all I have to do is reach out and grab it…
“I will arrange it. You don’t even have to return to the palace. I will have everything you need sent here.”
“You would…you would really do that for me?”
“Yes,” he says. “As I’ve said before, you are young. You are young, and why shouldn’t you try to have as many of your dreams as you can?”
I stand up, and I move to him, thoughtless, wrapping my arms around his neck and sitting on his lap, burying my head in his neck. “You’re really doing this for me.”
“Don’t,” he says. “I am doing nothing for you except…getting out of your way.”
He melts me with that, and I can’t be angry, not anymore.
“Thank you,” I say, lifting my head and looking at him. Then I lean in and kiss him. He picks me up, standing out of the chair, and carries me up to a bedroom. I’m not even sure that it’s the one we are going to be staying in tonight. Though, I suppose now it is.
He’s hungry, fiercely so, and he strips me of my clothes quickly, kissing my neck, all the way down my body. Normally he takes his time. Normally he makes sure I have at least one orgasm before he’s inside of me. He doesn’t do that tonight. He sheaths himself in a condom—he’s been protecting me ever since we decided that I would start taking the pill, waiting for a long enough period to pass to ensure that it’s working—and thrusts inside of me. I cling to him, trying to ride the wave of his ferocity. But I can’t control it. All I can do is surrender to him.
His movements are so feral, so fierce, he pushes me up the mattress, my head hitting the headboard. The bed crashes against the wall, and I fear that we may have to pay for the damage caused by this union. But that I remember that I’m married to a king, and cracked plaster is not a concern.
“You want this,” he says.
“Yes,” I say. “I want you.”
He grits his teeth, pressing his forehead against mine, and I lose my control. I cry out his name, and he breathes out mine, and then we hold each other after. Like it’s the end of something.
“You will go to school,” he says. “Because it’s what you wanted. It’s what you wanted before you were forced into this. Because you have to.”
“What happened to me taking classes online?”
“It’s never going to be the same. It’s never going to be your dream. You won’t be in a room with all of these people who share your passion. You won’t be able to live independently, in a dorm.”
God. I’ll be living without him. Something I’ve done for twenty-two years, granted, but not something that I imagined doing again.
I’ve never lived alone.
He is right about that. I’ve never had this experience, and it’s one that I wanted.
“How will we…how will we see each other?”
“There are breaks. And I am a king. I have a private plane, and I’m allowed to fly in and out and—”
“Youneed to change that law,” I say.
He puts his head against my shoulder. “Yes. I do.”
“I’ll go to school,” I say, a deep lashing of grief hitting me. But this isn’t the same grief as before. This is something different. This is something entirely unexpected. I’m getting what I want. He’s not stopping me from it. Not anymore. So why do I feel so…sad? It’s like when I found out I wasn’t pregnant. Like when I found out he wanted me to go on the pill, which was a good thing, except…it means I’m not trapped with him. Maybe it even means that I’m not as important to him as I was.
Chapter Twelve
