Page 22 of Ruby & Onyx

“So, Olly, how does it feel to be betrothed to a woman who hardly knew of your existence until…” I pause, realizing that I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Has it been minutes? Hours? Days?

“Until two hours ago,” he tells me. “I heard that you had quite the reaction. You know, I thought you would be delighted to discover that you are a princess-to-be. Many people would sell their souls to take your place.” Every word he says is another jab, another taunt. And, much to my dismay, I feel every blow landing just as hard as he intended.

“Lucky for those people, I’d sell my place for less than the cost of their souls.”

“Is that so?”

I resist the urge to throw a pillow at his head, though a few more barbs from him might cause that resistance to falter. “Would you be delighted to learn that your parents sold you to a foreign king, locked you in a village, and shielded you from any real human experience? Would you be dancing with joy to find out that your entire life is a lie? Does that sound just absolutely delightful?”

He swaggers forward and then sits on the bed next to me, placing a hand much too close to my thigh. He lowers his voice to a near whisper, “From what I hear, you were given a roof over your head, an allowance to keep you comfortable, and the freedom to spend your days in any manner you wish. While maybe not delightful, it doesn’t sound quite so terrible.”

An allowance that I was foolish enough to believe was my father’s pension. How could I have believed such a blatant lie?

“Of course, you know nothing about being trapped.”

His eyes darken as he leans even closer to say, “I know more about being trapped than you could ever imagine.”

The darkness brewing within him sends a chill down my spine. It’s enough to calm my bristling, if only for a moment. “You never answered my question earlier.”

“And what question would that be?”

“How do you feel about being forced into our arrangement?” I inch back on the bed to create more space between us.

“Oh, I fought it tooth and nail,” he says through gritted teeth. Then he leans in closer, so close that I feel his breath on my ear, and whispers, “Though now that I look upon you, I deeply regret my dissent.”

A rush of heat bolts through me, warming my cheeks and stirring something within my center. I turn away sharply to hide my reaction, but it’s no use. He leans back on the bed, propping himself up with one elbow, clearly satisfied with himself.

Is this a game to him? Does he enjoy seeing me squirm? What does he get out of this?

“Get dressed.” He springs up from the bed, commanding me as if his word is law. “You’ll find your new wardrobe in the armoire. I’ll wait outside while you change.”

“And what if I don’t want to get dressed?” I refuse to take orders from this man, especially when he has me feeling so vulnerable and out of control.

“Oh, if you prefer to remain undressed, I would love nothing more than to take your honor right here and now, but I promised my mother that I would resist. I am under strict orders to be a perfect gentleman when I escort you around the palace.” His lazy seduction fails to mask the humor in his eyes, making me feel like nothing more than a joke to him.

“That is not what I meant! You are nothing more than an egotistical narcissist. I refuse to be commanded by you. I refuse to become your wife. I would rather fling myself from this window than share the same air you breathe for another moment!”

This whole thing must be a mistake. Surely, the king and queen chose the wrong girl. There’s nothing special about me, no great gift. And there’s no way that he and I could belong together. I cannot, will not, agree to spend the rest of my life with that fiend.

He looks me up and down, biting his lip. “You don’t have a choice, darling. You will do all of those things and much, much more. Now, I will wait outside while you dress. If you’re not in the hallway in five minutes, then I will have to retrieve you and dress you myself. And I won’t be gentle.”

I scoff as he shuts the door behind him.

Prince or not, this is exactly why I vowed never to submit to a man. How could my parents do this to me? How could they have expected me to be okay with this arrangement? I have to come up with an alternative, some way out of this.

Tonight, when everyone is sleeping, I could escape and return to Carcera.

But the chances of me making it back to such a remote village alone are slim to none, given that I have no survival skills, no supplies, and no idea how to get there. Even if I was able to navigate the land, what sort of home would await me? No friends. No family. I feel sure that my allowance would come to a swift end once I prove myself to no longer be useful.

Could I make enough to support myself? The tinctures I researched could add more to my income, but it would be a long time before I produced anything worthwhile.

Has anyone even noticed my absence? Tana, maybe. But how long would it take for her to visit again? A week? A month? It’s not like I’ve been welcoming to her. I fear that even if she noticed, she may be more concerned with spreading gossip about my whereabouts than with trying to find me. That familiar pang of loneliness clambers through me, ringing in my ears like an echoing reminder of my inadequacy.

Can I truly claim Carcera as my home if nobody even notices that I’m gone?

Not to mention, the Mad King could attack at any moment. Returning to Carcera could be a death sentence.

What other choice do I have, then? Should I run as far away as possible and live out the rest of my years alone in the woods? That may be more appealing than becoming the subservient wife of an entitled prince. But that leads me right back to the inevitable doom that would await me alone in the woods.

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