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“I brought you here because there was nowhere else I could bring you that was any better. You must trust me on that.”
“I don’t have trust you on anything,” I said bluntly. “What aren’t you telling me?”
His jaw tightened. “To keep you safe, I needed everyone to accept that you were under my protection. There had to be no doubt in their minds.”
I raised my eyebrows. “So just tell them to leave your nice half-fae friend alone. Tell them I’m even not from Valtain. I’m from Pendrath. Simple, right? After all, you’re their prince.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way here. The Siabra... We have our own culture. Our own rules.”
“So instead, you told them I was what...? Your captive? A captive you keep in your personal suite?” My eyes widened. “Oh no.”
Draven took a step away from me and leaned against the doorframe of the balcony. He folded his arms over his broad chest in a gesture that radiated stubbornness and was all too familiar.
“They’ve assumed you’re my captive. I haven’t claimed that.”
“Oh, ho! How very magnanimous of you! To neither confirm nor deny. In the meantime, there’s a barrier on the door to keep your deadly friends out and me inside.” I clenched my jaw. “She called me your whore, Draven.”
“I know,” he said, hurriedly. Was it my imagination or was there a faint hint of pink in those gold-bronzed cheeks? I had never seen Draven blush before. “But of course, you aren’t. You’re no such thing. I’m sorry that word was used against you. It’s not one I would ever use towards a woman.”
I held his gaze. “What did you tell them I was?”
“My consort. In a sense.”
My jaw dropped. “Your...consort? What the hell does that mean? They think we’re what...? Married?”
My heart was pounding in my chest.
“No, no,” Draven said quickly. “Not married.”
My eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then what? You said ‘in a sense.’ In what sense?”
Draven cleared his throat. “In Siabra culture, those of royal blood may designate a person who is not their official spouse as their... Well, as their...”
The blood drained from my face. “Yourmistress? They think I’m your fucking mistress. Is that it?”
He nodded. A little too quickly. “That’s the closest term, yes. The position is nothing like the crude word Lyrastra used. You are not a whore.”
“Well, I know that,” I erupted. “And you know that. But does your entire court of Siabra know that?”
“They know that I’ve brought home a mysterious and beautiful fae woman who is clearly of Valtain origin based on her unmistakable appearance, and that I’ve decleared her to be my official mistress. Under my protection and part of my house, now and for all time,” Draven said quietly.
I was not going to let him distract me with the fact that he’d just called me beautiful. Absolutely not. “And if it were true,” I said quietly. “It might almost be romantic. But it’s not. It’s a lie.”
He ran his hands through his thick black hair. It was long, nearly chin-length now, and getting longer. “I know that. It’s not... an ideal situation. I’m not claiming that it is. But this was the best way I could think of to protect you.”
“You took me halfway around the world, to a place where I can’t even see the sun... Forgive me if ‘for now and all time’ seems like it has a distinctly ominous ring to it.”
“Actually, the palace has some chambers that receive sunlight. If you like, I’ll take you to...”
“That’s not the fucking point, Draven,” I interrupted, though I was a little impressed. “And you know it. You took me further than I thought was possible. Far from Kaye. Far from the people whoIneed to protect. Did you ever think about that? And now you say you won’t take me back. Meanwhile, your friends are creeping into this bedchamber, immobilizing me and insulting me–”
“They aren’t my friends,” he interrupted.
“Your fellow Siabra then. Your sister-in-law! And however noble this position of royal mistress supposedly is, there is clearly some dispute over just how noble or else Lyrastra wouldn’t have just called me a ‘whore’!”
“You’re right,” Draven said, his voice even.
I stared. “I am?”
