Page 142 of The Faceless Queen

“Do I damn you?” he asked. “Do I damn my people? Or, with every touch, and kiss, do I damn myself?”

His lips were on mine again again, kissing me, sweeping past the chaste kiss at our ceremony. This kiss was ours, and it was full of love and passion and fear and hate. He licked the seam of my lips, his hands around my neck, thumbs stroking my skin, sliding lower, and lower.

“How much?” he asked, breaking the kiss, pressing his nose against my cheek. His chest heaving. “How much of my life have you taken?”

“Years,” I said. “At least.”

The door sprang open. Our wedding guests had arrived and found us. They were cheering and yelling, shouting out bawdy comments—all about the bedding ceremony. How eager we were for it—how we had to wait just a little while longer.

Rowan and Kienan pushed through the crowd, into the doorway and grabbed Brennan’s arms, pulling him off of me..

“Well,” he said, meeting my eyes. “What’s one more year gone in the grand scheme of things?” And then they dragged him out of the closet and into the lodge, slapping his back as they retreated into the crowd.

I, too, was grabbed by the arms and brought forward. Noblewomen from House Lafir were on either side of me, escorting me into the dining hall. Every step I took, I was faced with someone new, someone congratulating me, hugging me, kissing my cheek, twirling me around or admiring my wedding dress.

I kept trying to reach Brennan again. But he was even more surrounded than I was. Drinks were coming out fast on a dozen trays, and glasses were shoved into my hands every few minutes. As soon as I finished one cup, another came, everyone urging me to drink.

They wanted me plied with wine, wanted my inhibitions low. It was the only way to guarantee them a good show at the bedding.

An hour passed like this. Trays of food coming out, followed by trays of wine and beer and mead. Speeches were being made, dances were performed, and I could not get a minute to myself, or a minute even in my new husband’s presence.

A second hour passed in half as much time, and suddenly, a new song began to play, and everyone shouted with a kind of titillated excitement that I’d only ever seen at Geoffrey’s.

As if the thought of the bastard had summoned him, he was by my side a moment later. “Ah, the excitement of the bedding ceremony,” he crooned.

I shook my head. “A little eager, aren’t we? We’ve barely had dinner, so you’ll just have to wait.”

He laughed. “Dinner? Don’t you know? The last-minute change in date and venue means there’s barely enough food to feed a proper wedding party. And certainly not enough food for the day after. To make sure no one notices, the king has scheduled some …” he grinned, “entertainment.” His eyes dipped down my body and back up. “I’ve never truly gotten to see you at work. Your real work, that is. But I must say,” he reached for my waist, “I’m rather excited to see you finally take a cock after all these years, especially in this body.”

Immediately I jerked away. “Go to fucking hell.”

He laughed. “Oh, come now. You don’t mind. Whoring is not new to you. Nor distasteful to our kind. And anyway, I see the way you look at him. The way he’s always looked at you.” He looked around the room and frowned. “But none of your … family … is in sight to watch your big moment. Not even your little ambassador.”

I snarled.

“Don’t worry,” Geoffrey purred, leaning closer. “I’ll be there, front and center—watching. Like the proud father you never had. And when you’re done being fucked for our entertainment, don’t forget our little arrangement. I haven’t been paid in days, and I can only be so patient and understanding.”

I was on the verge of using my magic, of shifting my fist and punching the shit out of him.

Before I could do anything too brash, I was surrounded by dozens of wedding guests, drunk and gleeful. They threw back their drinks, downing them all in nearly one gulp. Some signal must have been sent. Because right after that, they all began running to the back of the lodge, leaving me alone with Brennan.

My heart raced. “What is this?” I asked.

“They went out to the cabin, to our bedroom. For the bedding ceremony.”

“By the Gods.” They were racing to get the best seats, to make sure they had a clear view of us. I could feel my chest tightening, dread twisting in my stomach.

Brennan took my hand. “Are you all right?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Me neither. But I think the sooner we get this over with, the better.”

“I know.” I stared down.

He turned to me, lifting my chin in his hands, his eyes blazing. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant⁠—”

“I know what you meant,” I said, losing myself in the green of his eyes.