Page 55 of Fated to the Wicked King

They both looked at me, and I held their gazes.

“We don’t know anything for certain yet.” I pointed back and forth between them. “This arguing? This is what’s wasting our time, alright?”

Gregory exhaled slowly, tension still evident, but he did not argue.

The king’s forehead was still creased.

The lane split ahead into two narrow roads, each swallowed by leaning cottages and drifting snow, both looking equally bleak.

Sophie’s gaze tracked from Gregory’s to the king’s and back. Her soft voice cut through the tension. “Perhaps we would be more efficient if we split up.” She pushed Gregory closer to me. “Gregory, take Allie. His Majesty and I will go down this way.”

The king jolted in his stance, eyebrows snapping together, mouth opening to protest.

I cut him off. “Great idea.” Eyes lighting up, I gestured Gregory down the left lane. “Your Highness, let’s go this way.” The king’s glare seared the back of my head, but I didn’t turn.

I was confident Sophie could handle herself. The two men needed a time-out, and I wasn’t particularly eager to be alone with the king again just yet.

Gregory led the way past split logs stacked in leaning towers, iron tools left half-buried beside sheds, rope lines crusted with ice, fences bowed outward where weather had won small victories year after year.

I focused on the snowy road ahead, squinting amidst the light snowfall. I was almost certain I could see lantern lights in windows, but they all darkened as we approached. “There is something odd about this village. Is it the weather keeping everyone indoors, or is it always this quiet?”

Shutters shifted, then stilled. A cart sat abandoned near the square, one wheel slowly turning in the wind as if recently disturbed.

He clicked his tongue, seeming remorseful. “I confess some of the more remote outskirt villages may be in a state of neglect, more than I would like. The kingdom is expansive, and I’m afraid I may have overlooked some areas.”

I gave him a sympathetic look. “I am sure you are already doing your best, Your Highness.”

“Please call me Gregory. Everyone does.”

His warm smile so very easily put me at ease.

I returned it. “Your entire court seems to have the highest respect for you.”

His grin turned lopsided, as if in embarrassment. “Sophie and I try our best to rule as our parents did—gods bless their souls. Not with fear, but with everyone having a voice. We endeavor to treat everyone as family. It’s been part of our culture, our upbringing.”

It made perfect sense.

Pursing my lips, I couldn’t help but rationalize.

Gregory and Sophie had been groomed to rule their kingdom since their childhood. They had been taught the royal graces, diplomacy, control, and the responsibility of authority.

The Wicked King himself had no training. This power, this title, this responsibility, had been thrust upon him not even a year ago. He had been doing everything by himself. No advisors. No council. No servants. No friends.

Before he was crowned king, he had lived his life as an assassin—predominantly alone. It was unreasonable to expect him to have the type of amiability that the prince seemed to possess so naturally.

Gregory’s countenance bore no vanity, no overconfidence. I could tell he still thought he wasn’t good enough. It was rare to see such humility in a powerful leader. He would make a truly excellent king.

“Well, it’s working.” I gave him an encouraging shrug. “I am sure your parents are proud of the man you’ve become.”

“Thank you for saying that. Coming from such an accomplished woman, I take that as the highest compliment.”

I didn’t know about “accomplished.” I stifled a derisive chuckle. “You barely know me.”

Eyes gleaming, his smile widened. “I know you are a scientist. I know you are clever and strong. I know somehow you hold your own against the most ruthless king Wünder has ever known. That by itself is already an unmatched feat across the land. But I also know you are kind, courageous, brave…and beautiful.”

“Oh.” My mouth dropped open.

Gregory dropped his gaze for a moment.