Page 22 of Crowned By the Fae King

He was silent for a minute as we descended. "…Money?" he said at last. "That's all you want?"

"Spoken like someone who's never needed it, your splendor," I said snidely. "Yes, money. I can hash out the details with whoever manages your treasury, but I want you to assure me that they'll be provided for, and that they'll be able to live the rest of their lives in comfort."

"I could have them brought here—" he started.

"Do you think I didn't think of that?" I asked. I shot him a glare; his wings pinned down against his back, but he didn't look at me. "I've had a long time to think about this, if you've forgotten. They have lives back home. Tuân and Cadeo can be something out there. Do you think I should, what? Steal that from them because I miss their faces? Bring them here so I can watch them grow old and die in a world they don't belong in?" I shook my head, sorrow starting to settle heavily into my chest, wrapping dark tendrils around my throat. "I'm bound to you, for better or worse. I'm part of this world now. They're not. So, yes. Money. Cold, hard cash. Are you good for it, or not?"

We came around the last turn to the unseamed wall and heavy door to the palace. Cass set his hand on the wet stone and bowed his head. He looked defeated. "If that's what you want, then I will do what I can to ensure it's done," he said softly, the weight of the promise settling onto him.

The sensation made my skin prickle with warning and nausea twist my stomach, recognizing the inherent danger of that promise to him. Fae can't lie, I thought, watching him quietly, peace following after the discomfort. I would never see my family again—but I would be able to take care of them more than I ever had in Long Beach.

I'd been given the sort of power that could make that happen; let Bà retire and Auntie do something she loved instead of stocking groceries and cleaning houses. The boys could go to college. Would go to college, I thought fiercely. When Auntie wasn't ground to nothing from the endless work, she'd see to it Tuân and Cadeo straightened up and made the family proud.

I regarded Cass for a moment, taking in the weary lines of his body. "Thank you," I said quietly, letting the anger go.

He went still, his surprise registering to me as a deep inner focus, as if we stood motionless while the world pivoted around us into a new orientation. Cass turned towards me, wary hope pulling his brows together and putting tension in his upper lip. "That's a dangerous thing to say to anyone who isn't me, Quyen." He paused before flashing me a hundred-watt smile, the first expression I'd seen from him that looked comfortable on his face, a glimpse of the man he was when he wasn't facing down dignitaries or a surprise soulmate. "Dangerous to say to me, too, I suppose, in that I'm no less avaricious than other fae for such words, and might grow greedy."

That sparked my interest far more than sword-sharp wings or broad shoulders. I tilted my head to the side, enjoying the weight of my earrings as they swung. "And what trouble might I get into with a soulmate who's greedy for thanks?"

Cass traced his fingers down the stone of the wall with a sensuous touch. One corner of his mouth tilted higher, teasing a dimple out in his right cheek. "Several answers come to mind, none of which are particularly appropriate to share with a woman with whom I've barely shared a conversation."

My brows shot up. "Are you a flirt, your splendor?"

He let out a self-conscious laugh, ducking his chin and looking down. "I enjoy the repartee, and I'll admit that I have a preference for bantering with people I find attractive. So, guilty as charged, I suppose." His ears leaned back, then tilted forward as he looked back up at me. "Since you'd like to rest, do you have any preference on bedroom? If I've been keeping you awake, it must be, what, five days since you slept?"

I flashed him a tight smile. "Yeah, just about. I seem to go a bit crazy after a while." I sighed out a breath. "I honestly don't care where you put me. I just need a bed."

"As you like." Cass rapped his knuckles on the stone and a dark doorway appeared, resolving into a fancy room with light streaming through the windows. "The monarchal suite," he said, sweeping me a bow before stepping to the side to let me through.

It was a Cass-sized doorway, I noted, wider and taller than a typical one. All of the doors I'd encountered thus far had been Cass-sized, actually, or bigger, meant to be imposing.

How nice for him.

I went through the magic portal door, because my life was already lousy enough with magic that I was on the verge of no longer giving a shit about any of the weird shit, and Cass followed. The room beyond was a very nice room, albeit cavernous. Ornate paintings that looked like they belonged in some sort of basilica covered the vaulted ceiling, featuring animal-headed gods and strange monsters interacting with fae. The walls were mostly bare, with a medieval-looking tapestry depicting a busy village market on one wall and a set of small landscape paintings clustered on another.

Presumably Cass hadn't finished decorating the place in the past six weeks. Or hopefully. The juxtaposition of the fancy ceiling and the naked walls was a bit unsettling, like being in an unfinished house.

There were some couches and wardrobes and things clustered to one side, but all my attention was magnetically attached to the ridiculously huge four-poster bed visible past a carved accordion-wall. I started walking to it in a daze before remembering that I was in a bunch of jewelry and a very fancy dress, and turned towards Cass helplessly.

"I, ah, don't sleep in here, if you're worried about that," he said, rubbing his knuckles against his cheek. "I've been, ah, sleeping in the body-servant's room. It's much smaller. So you can have the monarchal suite, if you want. There's also an attached consort's suite…" Cass trailed off at the expression of bewilderment on my face. "That wasn't what you were worried about, though, was it?"

"Not so much," I said, a bit wryly. "While I'm fascinated by the King sleeping in the body-servant's room, I'm a bit more preoccupied by the fact that I'm in Danica's wet dress, which I'd really rather not sleep in?"

His cheeks darkened, and mine followed suit. "Right," he said. "I suppose that's not the sort of dress you can get out of on your own. If it doesn't trouble you, I could undress you? And find you some towels?"

"I mean, you're here," I said, choosing to blame all my embarrassed feelings on him. "You've got a bug up your ass about touching me, so if you'd rather not even touch the laces of my dress, you could go ring a bell for a servant or whatever. I do need someone to do it, though."

He waited until I'd finished speaking before crossing his arms over his chest and frowning at me. "There's no need to bite, Quyen. I offered because I'm willing. I didn't want to touch you because I'm overwhelmed, and I don't want to cause you any further harm."

"What harm?" I asked, crossing my arms right back at him. "Take a look at me. I've fallen forty feet onto rocks, run through the middle of a forest regrowing at breakneck speed, starved for weeks, been fucking stabbed, and I'm a-okay. Perfect health, your splendor, just pissy from lack of sleep."

Cass wet his lips and resettled his wings. He closed his eyes and took a careful breath. "Stabbed," he said, ears pinning back and tension flickering across his face. "Someone stabbed you?"

That tension seeped into me—not the sensation of stress, but a full-body tautness that reminded me of a police dog ready to launch into action. "I'm fine," I said cautiously, half-expecting clouds to gather under the vaulted ceiling.

Nothing happened, though. Or, at least, nothing I can see, I thought, glancing towards the door.

His eyes opened, expression hard. "Who?"

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