With that, I head down the hallway to the family wing. I’d love to talk to Inara, but it’s late and she and Varys are probably already asleep.
As I make my way to my room, I think about Kyven. For all his brooding intensity, I cannot deny that I’m attracted to him. But it worries me also. He was very insistent that our alliance could only be sealed through marriage. And while I understand his reasoning behind it, I cannot help but think there is something he is holding back.
I cannot explain why I feel this way; I only know that I do. And I learned long ago to trust my instincts.
I felt something similar with Joren. As if there were some part of him that he was hiding from me. But I was a fool. And I ignored the warnings in my mind, allowing my heart to rule my decisions.
He promised me his undying devotion, and then left soon after, as if I’d meant nothing to him.
It is well-known the Fae cannot lie. Kyven gave me his word when I presented my two conditions, but his people are rumored to be masters of turning words and bending phrases to serve their own advantage. I worry that I may have missed something in his vow. A way for him to avoid keeping the promises he made to me.
Perhaps I would not be so wary if I’d never had my heart hurt before, but I cannot change the past. I can only push forward and look to the future. Besides, I am not the first woman to have suffered rejection and I will not be the last.
I refuse to allow my experience with Joren to ruin my life. He did not deserve my affection and I will not allow him to take up any more space in my mind or my heart. I am strong and I will not let the past cripple me.
CHAPTER4
KYVEN
Lord Torien unrolls the treaty parchment on the table before me, pointing to the last line. “Everything on here is totheiradvantage,notours,” he says. “What do we gain from this alliance that we truly need?”
“Peace between Anlora and Florin,” I reply. “And a queen.”
“A human queen,” Torien mumbles. “I fear the people will not accept her, my King.”
“She will be my mate. They will have to.”
“You are a direct descendent of Queen Ilyra,” he points out. “You should reconsider the option to take a Fae consort—one of the nobility—as your true mate. One that the people would bless.”
“Let me guess.” I arch a brow. “You mean someone like your daughter—the Lady Amalthea?”
This isn’t the first time Torien has tried to push his daughter on me. His is one of the oldest noble families in Anlora and he has always had ambitions to see one of his blood upon the throne.
I exchange a knowing glance with Aren. He has never liked Lord Torien and warned me the male would try to dissuade me from taking Princess Grayce as my mate. As always, his instincts were right, which is part of the reason he makes such an excellent personal guard.
“I only offer the suggestion, my King.” Torien bows low. “It would be a shame to muddy the royal line with human blood.”
“Enough!” I snap, and all the color drains from his face. “Watch how you speak of my betrothed, Lord Torien. I will not tolerate anyone disparaging my future queen.”
Trembling, he bows even lower. “Of—of course, my King. I—I meant no disrespect.”
“See that it does not happen again.” I seethe.
“Forgive me, my King, but you are still new to this role,” he reminds me again that I was never meant for the throne. It should be my older brother—Lyrian—ruling our people, not me. His sharp green eyes dart briefly to mine before lowering again. “I have dedicated my life to the royal family. As your advisor, and your father’s before you, I am only here to offer counsel to the crown.”
“Leave me.” I command. “I’ve had enough of yourcounselthis night.”
I curl my hands into fists at my sides, as he slinks out the door like the sniveling worm that he is. Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, I try to calm the anger swirling within me. “You were right,” I tell Aren. “Even now, he would still try to put his daughter on the throne.”
“He is nothing if not persistent,” Aren says, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the door. “But he is right about one thing.”
“What is that?” I ask.
“Our people have been enemies for a long time, and I believe there will be many who will have a hard time accepting a human as their queen.” His eyes meet mine evenly. “She will be the only human living in Anlora, and her people do not possess any magic, which will make her an easy target to any who would mean her harm. I suggest the formation of a queen’s guard as soon as possible.”
I hate that he is right. It worries me to think of Grayce in any danger, especially at the hands of my own people.
“We have always been honest with each other,” he says a bit hesitantly. “I would ask permission to speak freely right now.”