Nothing to do with the legacy that he was chasing.
“I believe we will find the inside completely outfitted for our use.”
He looked at her, and then away. There was something about the clarity of her blue gaze that bothered him.
“Wonderful,” she responded.
Then she did some thing wholly unexpected. She walked ahead of him, and directly into the house without deferring to him, without waiting to see what he would do.
He followed behind her, but she was already halfway up the floating staircase at the entrance of the house when he got in.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to find my bedroom. I assume it will be the one with the women’s clothing in it. I would like a reprieve. And I would like perhaps to explore the island.”
“I…” He found himself speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time that it happened. He had a feeling it was around her, though, and he didn’t care for that at all.
“There’s no one here,” she said. “We have no need to perform. Even less than we had a reason to perform when we were in the palace. I find that cheering. Don’t you?”
He couldn’t say that he found anything cheering. Not at this particular moment. But before he could open his mouth to say it, Birdie had vanished up the stairs, and he heard the opening and decisive closing of the door. The click of a lock echoing through the empty house.
For the first time in his memory, Onyx had been firmly told exactly where he stood.
And it was on incredibly unhallowed ground.
Chapter Ten
The room was beautiful. The windows faced the impossibly blue water, a view unlike anything she had ever seen before. The bedroom was glorious. Not a tiny attic in a corner, not some other woman’s quarters, but airy and bright. The bed was plush, with white pillows and a white duvet. There was a hand-woven rug on the floor made with what appeared to be natural dyes, the geometric pattern on it intricate and artful. She opened up the sliding door that led into the bathroom. There was a massive, deep tub right next to a floor-to-ceiling window. Because of course there was no reason one couldn’t bathe in front of a window here. The only people on this island were the two of them. There was no one else around for miles.
There was a shower in the room as well, with a large rain head, and vines growing up the side of the interior. Making it like being caught in rain in the rainforest. She went inside and turned that water on. Let it hit her cold, stood there until it warmed up. And she cried. Because she hated all of this. Because she felt raw and bruised. Broken. Because she was too thin, in spite of her growing pregnancy, because she just couldn’t eat. Because this man was the epitome of a thwarted dream, and she hadn’t realized how much that would affect her.
She could step back and be impressed by her own strength if she took the time. But there was just something so crushing about losing this fantasy. For so many years, Onyx had been a bright spot in her life. He’d been the most beautiful man. An ideal in so many ways.
But the reality of him was disappointing.
King Onyxhadbeen the ultimate fantasy.
Maybe he had been a kind of escape for her in her mind.
A secret garden that only she could go to. While she had cleaned, she had imagined that she was doing this good work for him. That he would care. That it mattered. And somehow in her mind she let herself forget that his wife existed. She let herself believe that he was the sort of man who would see her, not the position that she occupied. And he wasn’t.
He wasn’t interesting or surprising. He was everything she had always feared a man in his position could be.
Cold, dismissive, suspicious of anyone who didn’t have the power and money that he did, whatever he said.
He attempted to try and convince her her that he didn’t feel that way. That it wasn’t an issue, but she knew that it was.
The way that he had spoken about that night…
God, but it was so hurtful. And why did he have the power to harm her even still? She cried and gave thanks that the water was running down her cheeks, that it let her pretend that maybe she wasn’t this pathetic. That she wasn’t weeping piteously over this man who didn’t seem to care about her at all.
Even bringing her here was all about optics.
She got out of the shower, turning the water off and drying herself a bit more fiercely than was strictly required.
But the scrub of the towel over her skin grounded her. Reminded her of exactly what was happening. Didn’t allow her to get too comfortable in her glorious surroundings.
She went to the lovely armoire in the corner, opened it up and looked at all of the fabulous dresses that were hanging there. Then she opened up the drawers in the massive chest of drawers that stood in the other corner of the room. There was no closet. Likely because of the way the house was constructed, with most of the walls being made of glass.
