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“You shut your mouth and you stay away from my daughter.” Like an explosion of fire, her mother’s eyes burned bright and angry.
“Mother,” Ambrose hissed, trying to put herself between them.
“Do you know what he is? Do you know who he is and what he did?” Ephram winced at her mother’s questions. “This is Prince Ephram Beudra, one of the sons of King Rome. This is the Fae that killed me.”
When Ambrose looked back at Ephram it was like she’d never truly seen him before. He wasn’t the love of her life. He was a monster.
Idalia
An array of wine bottles were open and scattered around her room. Idalia picked up the nearest bottle and drank deeply from it. Liquid managed to spill from the corner of her mouth, dribbling down her cheek, before it was wiped away with the back of her hand.
The gown she was to wear for this evening hung on one of her curtain rods. Sunlight poured in all around it, outlining it as if the dress itself had come from the heavens. It was a lovely gown, but she wasn’t sure it was that lovely. She set the wine bottle down. The drink was keeping her warm despite the fact that she was only in the pretty lingerie she planned to wear under her dress.
Tonight she would crown Burke her king. The castle would be introduced to her sisters and her parents. Shouldn’t she be more excited? Instead, all she could think about was the fact that not a single one of them had thanked her. No one had come to her door to tell her how they’d missed her. That stung deeper than she’d imagined it would. Even the wine wasn’t dulling that pain.
Just when the queen was contemplating canceling the entire evening, there was a knock at her door. Her heart leapt into her throat. Someone had come. Ambrose? Farah? Sienna? Her parents? Excitement and too much wine had her forgetting her indecency and she called for her guest to enter.
Her smile felt a little lopsided, or maybe she was just leaning into the chair next to her for support a little too much. The door cracked open and she tried to smile a little wider, blinking when the guest’s silhouette was blurred in her vision.
“Are you drunk?” Burke asked.
White dots appeared behind her eyelids as she rubbed her palms against her face. Raising both of her brows high, she found his face and frowned. Burke was not who she’d been expecting…or who she wanted.
“I’m only tipsy, grandpa.” she teased before lowering into the seat and picking her glass up again.
“Maybe you should drink some water.”
She remembered him being at her door, but now he was there, right in front of her, his fingers wrapping around the stem of the glass and lifting it out of her hand. Maybe she was a bit more intoxicated than she thought. Being drunk was simply…not her. She wasn’t allowed to be weakened, not like this. Her fingers were still chilled from holding her cold glass and she pressed them to her cheeks trying to fight her blush.
“I will drink some water.” She nodded.
“And maybe eat something too?”
Idalia bounced against the cushion as Burke fell into the seat next to her. She turned, giving him the perfect view of her body. His attention was painfully pinned straight ahead and he didn’t even glance her way.
“We need to talk about tonight,” he said somberly.
He was nervous. That was what this was.
Sly as a cat ready to pounce, she crawled over the red velvet cushions and lay herself against his body. All of her curves were on display in the pleasing way she knew he enjoyed. Her hair, still unbound, feathered over his shoulder and he sighed.
“I might know something that could ease your worries,” she sang. “Though I don’t think you should be worrying at all. You’ll be a wonderful king.” Arching her back, she peered up at him from her upside-down view.
Lines had formed around the edges of his puckered mouth. Had he just eaten a lemon? What was wrong with him?
“Idalia,” he whispered and she didn’t like the way he said her name, “I do not want to be your king.”
“What?” She sat herself up and all the liquid in her stomach sloshed. “Is it because you are scared? Or is there something else? Whatever the problem is, I’m sure I can solve it.”
“I don’t think you understand.” More of his face was scrunching in that terrible, unpleasant way.
Realization dawned on her, sinking into her mind and heating her skin.Not enough. You’re not enough for him or them. You’ll never be good enough. Try harder.The voice that whispered to her now wasn’t that of a god or her magic. This voice was her own.
“Why?” she demanded, her long fingernails digging into the fabric of the couch under her.
“I love Ambrose. I have always loved Ambrose. You knew that the moment you threatened her life and forced me to be at your every beck and call.”
The way he blinked up at her as if she was the stupid one sent anger running through her veins. “You loved me. You always loved me. You told me that the day before your marriage with her was arranged. Isavedyou from a loveless marriage and I saved my sister from being fooled by your politeness.”
