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“Ah, but you aremine,” he says. “As much as neither of us want that to be true. You took your vows. You sealed your fate. I will be your king, and you will do as I command.”
It’s my turn to laugh, loud enough that I’m sure the closest guests hear me. Another male with an ego complex, like my father. Is this what power does to them all? Turns them into tyrants who force people to bend to their will?
“You can try and make me.” My answer is childish, but I don’t care. I try to pull myself out of his clutches, but his grip on my hand and waist tightens.
“I will,” he says, eyes shrinking to slits, giving his already intimidating features a more menacing appearance. “And I’ll enjoy every second of it, Princess. You will not ruin this for me.”
My jaw hardens. “My name is Irissa. Why can none of you remember that?”
He huffs through his nostrils, and the hot air hits me in the face, sending a tingle racing down my back. Although I put on a brave front, the amount of sheer strength this man exudes is intimidating. “Names hold power, and you have none here.”
The words are like a punch to the gut, and I stop moving, standing my ground. If he wants to keep dancing, he can drag me around the floor like a broken doll, but I’m done.
I belong to no one, and regardless of Ulleh law and how they treat their women, I will not be spoken to like a servant. His words might be true, and I may not have much power here, but I’m not weak. Even if my only act of strength is through resistance and disobedience, I’ll show him how powerful I can be.
“You’re worried about me ruining things, when I came here to mend an alliance that you broke,” I say, still refusing to move my feet. Nor has stopped too, and he isn’t pressing me to keep moving. “How about you get off your high horse before you ruin it yourself?”
Instead of arguing back, he lets me go. Maybe something I said got through that thick skull of his. As though it was planned, the song ends and the crowd erupts into their chant, which only irritates me more. My hands ball into fists, and before I can do something embarrassing, I turn on my heel and storm back to our table, leaving Nor alone in the middle of the room.
CHAPTERTEN
Nor
My bride reminds me of Oryx, in that they’re both insanely annoying. How can one tiny human be such an enormous pain in the ass?
Part of me wishes I’d just let her faint before the ball and dragged her inside. Sure, it would have sparked some intense gossip and horrified my parents, but I wouldn’t have to entertain conversation with her.
However, a tiny part of me enjoys our banter.
The fury in her eyes as she fights an argument she can’t hope to win amuses me. It makes her crystal blue eyes shine brighter, makes her features more attractive.
I’m already contemplating other ways to incite her anger when her voice whips through the air and snaps me out of my daydreams.
“Stop staring at me.”
Remarkably, it’s the first time I’m aware of how my eyes have lingered on her since we took our place again at the high table. The open space in the middle of the room has filled with dozens of dancing couples, and as pleasing as it is to see after years without celebrations, I can’t take my eyes off the pink-cheeked woman beside me.
“You should take my gaze as a compliment,” I assure her.
Her jaw hardens, causing the corners of my lips to tug upward, and she crosses her arms haughtily over her chest.
“I suppose I should take all of your insults as compliments too.” Her eyes are still glued to the middle of the room.
Smile widening, I drag my gaze away from her profile and focus on the dancers.
“No. You can take those as insults.”
Before she has a chance to retort or storm off again, a nobleman wearing navy pants and a black button-up approaches our table with a bow. His skin is coppery orange, and black horns stick straight out on either side of his head.
“Princess,” he says when he stands upright again. “May I have this dance?”
I suppress a chuckle.
Guests asking the royal couple to dance is a common practice at most celebrations, but I’m intrigued why anyone would want to dance with the human. Also, considering her nearly feral disposition toward this entire arrangement, his question is laughable. There’s no way she’ll say yes, and I look in her direction, eager to see how she lets him down.
A second passes, and I can see the debate happening behind her eyes. Perhaps she’s wondering what the politest way to decline him would be in our culture.
She can continue to wonder.
