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My jaw clenches at the thought, and I fight to at least keep the half-smile I have on my face now.
The king nods in thanks but says nothing as we leave through the open doors back into the hall. A guard closes it behind us with a loud bang that echoes down the silent halls.
He doesn’t speak again or even glance in my direction as he practically drags me along next to him, unaware or unconcerned by his much longer strides. Just when I wonder if he is intentionally fraying the edges of my sanity with this endless walk, he finally drops my arm, halting before a solid oak door guarded by two more hulking, and unsurprisingly masked figures.
I move forward as soon as one of them opens the door, ready to get this cursed ordeal over with. When I take a step, the king does as well, practically barreling over me with his giant form.
The servant coughs on what I assume is a laugh as Einar pointedly clears his throat. The brute is obviously unfamiliar with chivalry. We stand locked in place, both waiting for the other to budge, for what feels like an eternity.
My lips part, and I am about to speak when Einar heaves a sigh before he roughly grabs my wrist, pulling me into the room. As soon as the door closes behind us, I carefully extract myself from his grasp.
My other hand itches for the knife sewn into the skirts at my side, though I know I can’t use it. This is what I’m here for, but all the notice in the world would not have prepared me for this moment.
“Blazing sands!” The words escape my trembling lips as I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath.
My stomach is leaden, and my heart races, but when I open my eyes again, the king is watching me with an impassive expression.
“What is the matter with you?” Einar’s voice is dripping with condescension, but he makes no move toward me.
If anything, he seems to be putting an intentional space between us, and I’m reminded of his extremely reluctant wedding kiss. Looking around, I see he hasn’t brought me to a bed after all. Only a dimly lit chandelier, an ornate porcelain basin, and a black chaise lounge fill the small space we’re in.
“Did you bring me to a fainting room?” I ask my own question instead of answering his, my brows furrowing in confusion.
“Where did you think I was taking you?” He huffs.
Heat floods my cheeks, partly from embarrassment, but largely from the fury that is slowly ebbing in, crowding out the fear that has been driving it.
“The way you yanked me down the hall, what was I supposed to think?”
He looks nonplussed.
“You should have said something if you couldn’t keep up.”
My last, fragile thread of patience splits apart with that comment.
“I’m beginning to see why you had to import your bride with manners like these,” I snap. “Have you actually encountered a woman before, or is this an entirely new experience for you?”
His eyes narrow, and he opens his mouth to respond, venom dripping from every word.
“I can assure you, I’ve encountered many a woman.” His eyebrow raises, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.
“Just none that would stick around, then? I wonder why.” I feign contemplation.
His expression goes flat, sharpening the angular lines of his face and only emphasizing his barbarism. He looks me over from head to toe, but there’s nothing flattering in his gaze.
It’s predatory. Scrutinizing. The way he looks at me makes me feel as though I’m wearing clothes far more revealing than my bridal outfit. With another man, I might be afraid, but I know the signs of a body thrumming with violent intent.
The king is not going to hurt me. At least, not physically. Not yet. When he finally speaks, his voice is deeper and colder than it had been when we said our vows or even a moment ago.
“You should clean up,wife.” Einar points to the basin. “There’s a feast in our honor.”
“Clean up what, exactly?” I counter, stopping myself before I can ask why I’m allowed such a privilege now when it wasn’t even offeredbeforemy wedding.
He gestures to my hands.
“I didn’t figure you’d want to eat with dirt on your hands, but of course, that’s entirely up to you. All that is required is your presence, not your cleanliness.”
Red flashes through my vision. I may have only vague memories of my early childhood, but I remember dreaming about my wedding day, about the privilege of having such exquisite markings on my skin to let the world know I belonged to someone.
