Page 201 of Settle Down, Princess

“Silence!” All of the king’s conciliatory mood was gone as he lunged at Giselle, teeth bared and snapping on the air like a rabid dog. The analogy wasn’t a bad one, because his mind appeared to be fevered by whatever we had instructed Desi to put in his food. “You will not speak so in front of your betters!”

I caught the moment when Giselle’s gaze went perfectly flat, all emotion scrubbed from her face as she lowered her eyes then dropped down into a very graceful curtsey.

“Of course, my king.”

Magnus seemed somewhat mollified by this, nodding then drawing himself up to his full height.

“Choose me,” the king said, extending his hand. “Choose to become queen in reality, not just in my brother’s fevered dreams. Choose peace for our country and all that lives in it. Let us join my house and Fallspire’s so as to stop this madness from transpiring.”

“Oh…” My whole body quivered as something very unwise rose within me, but I was at the end of my tether. I had been scared and angry and shamed and dismissed in ways I couldn’t count and I just couldn’t seem to keep it all down. After years of learning to hold my tongue, I failed right at the worst possible moment. “I think we’re well past the point of madness.” My hand rose to point at him, shaking despite the fact I was trying to lock my muscles down hard, but the other? It went to my skirts, finding the slit there and my knife. Magnus was mistaking me for Lady Ariel? Well, I would say the things that she didn’t dare, I was willing to bet. “You’re well past the point of madness if you think I’ll ever marry you.”

Every muscle in his face tensed then, forming hard lines that just got harsher as his brows creased and his mouth jerked down at the corners. That wasn’t what I focused on though. My eyes analysed his stance, the set of his shoulders, searching for those signs Silas taught me to lookout for, of the moment his weight shifted slightly. I whipped out my knife, ready to let it fly straight into his chest.

“Oh no you don’t.”

She slapped her hand around my wrist, thumb digging into the hollow there, pressing down on the muscle until it spasmed and the knife fell with a clatter on the floor. That’s when I knew I’d done something so very stupid. Silas hadn’t had a chance to teach me how to maintain my grip under this sort of onslaught. I had no means to work my way free of Giselle’s hold, only a need to slap my hand down to retrieve the next knife and the next. Arik had ordered them to be strapped all over me, but in the end, none of it mattered, because she gripped both of my wrists and jerked me closer.

“You little idiot. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand?” She went to shake me again, but that was when the king intervened.

“No!” Giselle looked like a starving hound being denied a tasty bone, her eyes rolling slowly sideways to watch him approach. “Unhand her!”

But if I thought this was my moment to get free, I was mistaken. Giselle threw my wrists down, but Magnus was there to take possession of them, my body feeling like it was ready to recoil.

“Don’t touch me…” I said in a low whisper, over and over, unable to control the shiver that went from toes to head at his touch.

“You choose him?” There was almost a plaintive air to his question. “You choose the bastard?”

And that was when I understood Lady Ariel. If I was standing in her place right now, she’d been forced to answer the same question and I hoped she did the same. Bile filled my mouth and rather than swallow it, letting the liquid burn me, I spat it into his face.

“Every time,” I snapped. “I choose Arik every time.”

I hadn’t learned anything at all, it appeared. My nose was aching dully from Giselle’s slap, but that was nothing compared to a blow from the king. He might be jittery, weakened, yet still my head snapped sideways, rocketing on my neck, as his hand slapped my face with all of his strength.

What the hell had I done? My equilibrium was destroyed as I staggered back, pain exploding in my head but not fading away. I let out a little whine, my throat working, my chest filling, needing to let out a much louder sound, but I couldn’t. My reality had been exchanged for one created from agony, the beat of my heart like massive drums being played inside my head.

“Well, women can’t be trusted to make the right decisions,” he said, grabbing my hand and hauling me along, forcing me to stumble after him. “I gave you a choice, but now I fear I’m going to need to insist.”

“My king!” the guard said, running to catch up with us. “My king, we must get out of the city if we’re to have a chance of surviving.”

“There is no need for that. I’ll marry Lady Ariel and then force her father to accept my conditions. If he calls off his dogs, his daughter will become queen and give birth to the next king. And if he doesn’t…” I blinked repeatedly when he stopped, trying to see him clearly, but all I caught was the maddened look in his eyes. “Well then, the duke’s daughter and my brother’s love will die from an unfortunate accident.” He stared at me. “And another will take your place.”

This was how it happened. The thought was like a single high pitched shriek inside my head. This was how it all began. Ariel fought Magnus somehow and no one came to rescue her. A sob escaped me without meaning to and that just made the king smile. It got wider with each tear that dripped from my eyes. My nose was already swollen beyond recognition, but now it clogged with tears, every breath a fight to take.

“Another and another…” I croaked out. “Until someone stops you. And they will.”

“Stops me?” He bared his teeth at me. “Nothing and no one will stop me. I am the King of Khean. All will bow before me.”

But not me. I might not be able to attack him, cut him down, have him bleeding out on the marble floor, but I could dream it. His terrible demise, I saw it, and I imagined he did too in my gaze. His face flushed even redder, his jaw working, but he shook his head, dispelling his madness for just a moment.

“Now come along. We are due in the grand nave. A wedding will take place and when you are my wife, I can begin teaching you exactly how you will need to behave.”

I tried to dig my feet into the floor, but my slippers just slid across the smooth surface. Every muscle ached as I tugged and tugged against his grip, yet still he dragged me on. Through narrow corridors, then out into the night, crossing a great courtyard to stand before the magnificent cathedral of Khean.

Of course this was where I ended up. Every moment since I left my father’s castle was spent trying to avoid this fate and yet here I was. I couldn’t marvel at the architecture or dwell on the beautiful stained glass. All I could do was stumble on after Magnus.

“Priest!” the king shouted. “Priest! I need a priest!” A snowy haired man emerged blinking like a mole, still dressed in his bed shirt. He took the state of me in and the king, going pale at the sight. “Get your robes, Father,” the king barked. “Actually don’t bother. It’s not ceremonial gowns that will officiate this.” I was thrown down in front of the altar, but when I went to scrabble away, a booted foot slammed down on my hand. My cry echoed throughout the cathedral, but not before Giselle stepped forward.

“This, again?” She looked at me, the king and the altar up and down with a curl of her lip. “You don’t need to marry the girl. She’s our only bargaining chip!”

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