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The middle of the room now hosts a nondescript wooden crate with shapes seemingly carved out at random on each side. I move toward the box, vaguely registering Einar coming in behind me and shutting the door.
A shuffling noise from inside stops me short.
Have I misjudged Sigrid’s nature entirely? Is it a snake?
I glance back at Einar, but his face is as inscrutable as ever.
Fine.
I flip the lid off one-handed and take a half step back, my heart thundering. When nothing jumps out at me, I inch closer, but what I see leaves me more confused than ever.
It’s... a tiny cat, of a sort, covered in bright, shimmering, silver-colored fur with deep sapphire stripes, the exact color of my dress. It’s staring unflinchingly at me with eyes the color of the waters around Villa Paradís, the bluer side of turquoise.
When it opens its mouth to yawn, two metallic canines stand out amongst its sharp teeth.
I was raised in a place far grander than most palaces, surrounded by the most extravagant things in the world, but I think this cub might top them all. I only wonder what strings the king will attach to this gift.
Though it’s hard to imagine that this is a gift, in the light of all his caveman-style territorialism. He has made it clear nothing is mine. Why should this be any different?
Tall, pointed ears — too large for its small body — twitch, but the thing makes no move to attack. Again, I wonder at its purpose. I am both in awe and terrified of the fuzzy creature as it curls into a ball and falls asleep, completely undeterred by our presence.
The king’s features give nothing away. Most men, I can read like a dossier, each part of their component crystal clear. But not him.
I am at a rare loss for words, something he must notice, because he finally speaks up.
“The chalyx was supposed to be here yesterday,” he explains without inflection. “I commissioned it when I was more hopeful about the whole arrangement.”
I try not to let his last muttered statement sting, but it does. There are only a handful of reasons that come to mind why he despises me so much after so short a time.
Does he know about Madame’s subterfuge? She told him she was my beloved aunt, that she had taken me in when my parents were killed. She had falsified my lineage and hers, all to make this happen.
And I, of course, had gone along with it. Surely, if he knew that, it would mean more than cruel comments and dirty looks. It would mean my life.
Which leaves another explanation.
“Did you know I was from the Eastern Lands?” I ask him quietly, studying his face for a reaction.
His brow furrows before he answers.
“Yes. My people vetted you before you came here,” he says flatly. “Why?”
So my story had checked out, and it wasn’t an objection to my people. Just me.
“I just wondered if that was why you chose this animal. Tigers are common there, though I haven’t been back in some time.” I keep my features perfectly neutral, turning my gaze back to the chalyx.
“Clearly, the gesture was ill-conceived.” His tone is even sharper than before, and I’m already tired of trying to cater to his moods.
“Clearly,” I echo in a hollow voice. “Pets are frivolous.” I nearly cringe as I hear Madame’s voice echoing in my head.
I inspect my fingernails rather than meet his eyes and let him see the uncertainty swirling in mine.
“But thank you for the thought,” I add in a tone about as genuine as his gesture was.
I finally glance up to see the smallest twitch in his eye, the only sign of any emotion from him.
“I am tired and in need of a bath. Would you please fetch someone to help with that?” I say with all the imperiousness he has already ascribed to me.
I hear the breath he takes before he turns to leave the room without a word. As soon as he’s gone, my shoulders slump and I rub my temples.
