Page 54 of Fated to the Wicked King

Perhaps she and I had both been wrong this morning. Any goodness we saw in the Wicked King was likely the result of his powerful aura, his seduction spells. Perhaps I was merely too wrapped up in my old feelings for him that I couldn’t see what was plain as day.

Gregory’s staunch figure led the way down the isolated village paths. Distrust was visible in the line of his shoulders, in the way he never let too much distance between himself and his sister, in the frequent glances he cast toward the king as one might watch a sheathed blade left too near the table’s edge. His hand strayed often toward the weapon at his hip, then away again, likely a discipline learned and repeated.

We had come to the village seeking rumors of monsters.

But Gregory knew the only monster here was walking among us.

When his pace slowed, Sophie hurried him along with a touch on the sleeve. When the king drew too near her brother, she found a reason to occupy the space between them.

It almost worked.

For his part, the king held himself with a rigid stillness that did not read composed so much as contained, as though stillness was the only thing keeping something sharper at bay. He was not simply unfamiliar with polite company. It was as if he did not quite understand why it existed at all, and the absence of that understanding gave him an edge that felt dangerously close to violence.

Something moved.

His head snapped toward the rear corner.

A flicker only. Fast. Barely there.

The king leaned closer to my ear. “Stay close. There’s something wrong with this place.”

I shot him a look. “What do you mean?”

The strong line of his throat bobbed. “Do you not feel that?”

I reassessed our surroundings, trying to muster more suspicion. The wintry village seemed as innocuous as any wintry village I had seen on Wünder.

Sophie cast a glance over her shoulder. “There have been whisperings about this village. People have been speaking of… strange occurrences. They started a few moons ago.”

A vague notion clicked in my head. “How many moons ago?”

She shrugged. “Six to eight, maybe more.”

“Rumors are only rumors,” Gregory pointed out. “Let’s not find fault before there is anything to find.”

The king couldn’t help a scoff, triggering a clench in Gregory’s jaw.

It might have been naïve, but Gregory trusted his people. He was the kind of person who saw the good in others first—except possibly the king.

“We’re wasting time.” The king’s impatience was not disguised.

Gregory’s suggestion was cold and flat. “What exactly does His Majesty propose? We round up all of these peaceful villagers and use Allie to interrogate them? Choke everyone here with your shadows? Shall we burn the village down before we even find out what we came here for?”

The king scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s faster.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant for me to hear his mutterings, but I did.

“I don’t know how you run things in your kingdom, Your Majesty, but I cannot justify simply killing off my people over mere speculation.” His hand gripped his sword tighter. “And I don’t burst into other peaceful kingdoms and summon chaos for no reason. You are lucky there were only minor injuries caused by your tricks this morning.”

“I already told you I had nothing to do with that.” The king’s response was through gritted teeth. “There is a credible threat, however.” His gaze fixed on the prince. “And it leads to your kingdom.”

“In that regard, then, do we not both accuse without proof?” Gregory huffed.

The king hissed, leaning in. “Oh, I have plenty of proof. I’ll show you some⁠—”

Gregory all but growled in his face.

“Hey.” I waved my hand.