Page 21 of The Forbidden Fae King

“That is true enough. Damn fool of a boy.” King Willard chimes in and Finan flinches as though he expects to be struck.

Finan tentatively places himself on his couch again. “But I have my duty to consider.”

“Your duty?” I ask. “Your DUTY? Is my power not enough to satisfyyour duty?”

Beads of sweat form on his forehead and he opens his mouth.

“You know what?” I get up in a flurry of skirts. “I’ve heard enough of your lies for one night.” I turn and leave the study.

“Perhaps the youngest sister would be better for you, Finan. This one has too much fire in her soul.” The king’s barb follows me as I stalk out of the library.

My father follows with a retort, but I am too far away to hear it. He will have his hands full to repair the damage I have done tonight.

I run blindly through the corridors as I hold the pieces of myself together. A blade twists in my chest, but I won’t give any from the royal party the chance of seeing me undone.

By the time I enter the sanctuary of my rooms, I am a sobbing mess. My chest heaves as each cry racks through me. Hot tears stream down my face. I run my hands through my hair, then pull it with such force the pain kills all thought for a precious moment.

Stupid. Stupid. STUPID.

How could I have been such a naive little girl? Every single red flag I dismissed come crashing down on me. The lingering glances atother women. The fact we aren’t already married. Sex that is only focused on Finan’s pleasure and never mine. Every warning from a family member to guard my heart.

I curl up onto my bed like a child, cradling my head in my hands. The wetness of my tears run down my hands and arms. Each breath comes out in a gasping, choking scream that bounces around the room. My self-control has turned to dust.

What happened to that girl who had dreams? Who had ideas of her own? I have become nothing more than Finan’s lover. Being his future queen became my whole identity, and now that those foundations have crumbled, I don’t know what is left. Who I am anymore. I am utterly lost and it terrifies me.

I don’t register when my father enters my room, but I cry with complete abandon with my head in his lap while he strokes my hair. My mother speaks as she restlessly stalks the room, but I don’t know what she says.

The sobs end and much of the pain ebbs away with it. My eyes burn from the salt of all the shed tears, and are so swollen I can hardly see.

Gentle hands remove my ball gown and cox me into my nightshirt, and it isn’t until they tuck me into bed that I realize they belong to my mother. She could have called a servant, but she took care of me herself.

My last thought as I drift to sleep is that I will always have my family to protect me.

I spend a day locked in my chambers, mourning my old life and the blissful ignorance I had lived in, then I return to my duties. Finan came to my door multiple times, probably to fill my head with more empty promises. The first time my mother dismissed him, the second my maid sent him away and the third time I didn’t bother to answer the door and he left. His attempts were pathetic.

My maid laces up the front of my riding dress of navy wool, thenpulls leather gloves onto my hands. “I can use powders and pigments to correct the rings under your eyes, m’lady. It is best not to show any weakness to the king…or that prince,” Anya says.

“Later.” I wave a hand. “Neither will be up for hours, and I’ll need a bath when I return. I’d hate to look like awildlingbefore them.”

It is time I take back the reins of my life.

The keep is still asleep as I make my way through it, the corridors faintly illuminated by a watery light as dawn arrives. The guards at the gatehouse of the inner wall are the only people I see as I step out into the courtyard.

They look frozen, and rub their hands over a fire in a small brazier that struggles to pick up. They greet me as I pass, and I smile and use my magic to give life to their fire, the coals suddenly flaring bright.

A thin layer of frost crunches under my boots as I cross over meadows surrounding the orchards and make my way to the Protector Guard’s training fields.

Shouts and clacking of wood on wood fills the air, as a circular arena comes into view. It has compacted grass, with archery targets and silhouettes of fabric and sand for hand combat techniques.

In its ring, Caitlin trains with the Caption of the Protector Guard. Both wear tight dark pants and long, emerald overcoats, split at the sides. It is the uniform of the female guards.

Gwyneth holds a thick pad braced on her chest and Caitlin lands high kicks into its center.

I stop to watch them.

“High. Right,” Gwyneth yells and Caitlin’s leg swings out and meets the pad as it moves to the captain's side, three times in fast succession. The force of those blows are substantial enough that Gwyneth’s body jolts each time she takes one.

“Center!” Gwyneth calls, pulling the pad to her front and Caitlin brings her leg up, bends it at the knee and thrusts it forward in a powerful move that is lightning-fast. Gwyneth staggers backward. “Again!”

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