Page 135 of The Forbidden Fae King

He is in the drawing room, holding a chalice of wine lazily in one hand and reclining on a low couch, staring intently at the chess game before him. My brother sits opposite, moving a piece across the board. Finan lets out a laugh, dimples forming at his cheeks, as he grabs his queen and places it before Diarmuid’s king.

“Checkmate!” Finan exclaims. “Again! I must be a natural at this game.”

I carefully school my features as both men turn to me, Diarmuid raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile. I know what he is doing. My brother is the strongest chess player in my family. Not even our father can beat him.

He is playing politics already, likely using the time spent at these games to worm his way into Finan’s good graces. That will be his job when we marry.

The world spins around me and I feel like another woman moves my body. As though I am watching from the sidelines. Surely this can’t be my reality.

Finan’s face lights up as his gaze falls on me, leaping up from his seat and taking my hands. “Keira, you look stunning. They told me you were sick and I started to worry.”

Behind Finan, Diarmuid catches my attention, pointing to himself, then the door, in a silent question. I nod to and he makes his retreat.

“It took time to adjust. I got whiplash to my magic on the journey back, but I am far better now.” The lies come easily to me.

Finan sits on the couch and pulls me into his lap, his hands wrapping around my hips. It takes all my willpower not to pry them away.

“I want you to marry me, Keira,” Finan urges. “Be my queen. Let’s go to the capital and have the ceremony immediately. I’m done waiting.”

Be my queen.How those words make my chest ache and stomach turn. How they remind me of the man who has my heart. I push those feelings down until there is nothing but numbness to replace them.

“Yes, Finan, let's leave for the capital as soon as we can. We will marry when my family can join us there.”

His lips pout. “I suppose you are right. There will be mutiny if we do not allow time for the lords to assemble for the royal wedding.”

Finan’s fingers start tracing circles on my hip, weaving their way through the layers of fabric to find my bare flesh. I shudder with revulsion, but he thinks it is for a very different reason, and leans in to kiss me. I place a finger on his lips, gently pushing his face away.

“We cannot do any of that. Not until we know if I am pregnant to the magic,” I say.

His mouth hangs open. “Could it be possible?”

I give an alluring half-smile. “Anything could be possible, and I have been told that it is very fragile at the beginning. Any sort of excitement could make it miscarry. Besides, we won’t know if I am pregnant to the magic or to you if we get too carried away.”

It is a convenient lie my grandmother gave me to tell him, so I could have time to adjust to my duty. There is no chance I am pregnant.

His hand runs up my thigh and I cringe. “Does it matter how a baby is created? It will be mine either way.”

“It matters to the baby,” I say, taking his paws off me. “Imagine, a future monarch AND a magical conception. The child would be celebrated across kingdoms.”

A wide, satisfied smile fills Finan’s face and he makes a show of lifting his hands from me and holding them up in the air. I almost feel guilty at the joy on his face. He pulls a ring from his pocket, and slips it onto my finger. I don’t even bother to look at it.

We are not alone for long before we are summoned to dinner.

It is a private affair, only my immediate family and Finan. I find it hard to eat, moving my food around my plate. Everything is bland compared to fae food. Boring without Drake’s spices. Deep sadness rolls through me at the thought of him. I don’t even know if he will live.

My parents entertain Finan with conversation, making him laugh with their stories, pretending that everything is okay. I am grateful forthe fact, as I am utterly washed away by the tide of conversation, unable to follow it. Fatigue settles over me and dampens my mind.

When Finan announces our informal betrothal and fast plans for a wedding, the room turns deadly silent for a heartbeat of time, as all eyes fly to me.

I cannot bear the searching looks they give me. The pinch between my mother’s eyebrows, or my father’s flared nostrils. I give a curt nod and hold up the hand with the ring on it. This is all I can manage.

Finan has a huge grin on his face, glancing from person to person, awaiting his congratulations and not seeing what is right there before him. Immediately the room erupts in well wishes and celebration, and my father calls on a servant to bring his oldest bottle of wine.

I make my excuses to leave early, feigning that sickness again. Finan pats me on the shoulder, hardly breaking from conversation, and allows a servant to take me to my rooms. Aldrin would have dropped everything to make sure I made it to bed safely.

I don’t sleep. I pace the room instead.

The hours tick by with my thoughts screaming and circling around inside my head. My chambers feel like a coffin, so I walk through the keep instead. I aim for the library, but somehow find myself at my father’s study instead. Voices drift out from it and I stop to hear them.

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