I blew out an exasperated breath. “For Layla’s sake as well as our own, can you just behave for the duration of the banquet?”
She cocked her head. “Behave?” Her predatory smile should’ve made me afraid, but in spite of everything, it made me want to drag her back to bed. “Have it your way.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
SIGRID
Behave…
I’d done the motherfucker a favor, and he’d tried to treat me like a simpering Saxon wench. If that’s what he wanted…that’s exactly what he was going to get.
We strode into the enormous Great Hall, where we’d feasted the night before. I didn’t think it was possible for it to be less lively than it had been for the wedding celebration, but evidently, miracles really did happen here.
There was no joy to be found between these people, and that was before the two most hated people in the kingdom stepped into the room. The moment we arrived, absolute silence fell. The stiff, tense kind that made me want to laugh because I didn’t understand how people could take themselves so seriously.
It had been years since I’d experienced this kind of collective loathing. On Ocracoke, people gave me a wide berth, but I kept to myself, so they had little reason to worry about me. It hadn’t been like this since I’d left Daneland.
My father had wielded my power as yet another weapon in his arsenal, something he could use to toy with enemies and keep his people afraid. I was able to sniff out rebellion, sensing how afraid the instigators were of discovery. When he chose me as his torture master, I didn’t mind at first because the people I tortured had done such awful things, I relished their pain. It was a satisfying use of my powers.
But not all the blood on my hands had been so justified.
Neither was the blood on the hands of these self-righteous Saxon fucks who were complicit in their king’s actions. At least I owned my wrongs.
There should’ve been some camaraderie between me and Bastian for being similarly hated, but he was irritatingly determined to loathe himself more than they loathed him. As though he owed any of these uptight fucks anything. What had they ever done to deserve his loyalty?
Every one of our footsteps echoed off the stone floor as we approached the royal table. Bastian was rigid next to me, clearly waiting for me to do something offensive.
I curtsied before the king, and Bastian stumbled over his own feet in shock.
“I trust you slept well, Your Majesty?” I asked, mimicking the soft tone all Saxon ladies seemed to have been taught.
The king eyed me suspiciously. This game was more fun than I’d anticipated. Defying the enemy’s expectations could keep them distracted and guessing while I studied their weaknesses.
“I did, Princess. And you?”
I smiled shyly and looked away. “Hardly slept a wink. Your son has stamina.”
If I were too proper, he’d never trust it.
Several people cleared their throats awkwardly, waiting for the king’s reaction to know whether they should be amused oroffended. But the members of the royal guard were looking at Bastian with a little more respect.
You’re welcome, dickhead.
The king coughed. “I’m glad to hear your union is a favorable one. I look forward to news of an heir.”
Not from me you don’t.No child of mine would be raised in this hellhole as a puppet for him. I’d sooner choose chastity.
I spotted Father Benedict lurking behind the king and threw him a wink. He pretended not to see, but his cheeks flushed an angry red.
I’m not finished with you yet.Not after what Bastian had revealed the night before.
Like he was terrified I was about to snap at the king, Bastian tugged subtly on my arm to lead me to our places at the other end of the royal table.
Something about the seating arrangement made his eyes flare with panic, but he rapidly schooled his expression. Anything that got that much of a reaction from my buttoned-up temporary Saxon husband had to bedelicious.
From the way he rapidly switched my place card away from the stunningly gorgeous brunette I’d been assigned a seat next to, I was guessing she wasn’t his sister.
I ignored the cards and took the seat he’d tried to move me from. “Sigrid,” I said, offering my hand to the woman next to me.
