Page 95 of A Kingdom of Destruction

They didn’t have the same mother. So how happy had the king really been with his wife?

Aven resisted glaring at him across the room.

She called him abastard.

Not once, not twice. Multiple times.

She’d been right, and now she regretted the insult. In part. Roran had been acting like a prick at the time.

“I guess when you hear about something long enough, you come around to the idea. And then I met you, and pieces fell into place perfectly. It was the right match at the right time.” Cillian smiled at her, and a small sun lit in her chest.

“Marriage is—” Roran started to say.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Aven interrupted. He’d no doubt say something terrible about marriage being a trap or a shackle and how it was better to get out there and play the field. Find happiness in the bed of the woman of the day.

She’d felt the same way once. And she shouldn’t take her ire out on Roran, especially after what she’d overheard at the ball. Yet he provided the perfect target.

Sullen, sulking, like a small spot of cold in the room sucking out life and joy.

Out of all the places for them to go, they’d had to come here to wait out the lockdown? Roran had to come with them?

Maybe he should have hidden in the closet again. It had worked well for him last time.

“Maybe it’s not the marriage itself you actually want, but the ball,” Aven teased, turning to Cillian. “You seem to be very fond of them.”

“What’s not to like? It’s a chance to listen to good music, eat food with the people you care about. Everyone has fun at a ball.”

“Not everyone,” Roran insisted.

“Most people, then,” Cillian clarified with more kindness than she would have. “It’s a great opportunity for people to come together where you forget about yourself. There’s nothing like dancing to really get to know a person.”

Aven always found conversation to be the best way to get to know a person, but she smiled regardless. “You’re unparalleled on the dance floor. I’ve seen your moves.”

“I have many more. There are several special dances the fae reserve for holidays and sacred ceremonies. Once we’re wed…” he trailed off. “Hopefully one day you’ll get to see them.”

Roran straightened, and his knuckles went white on the arms of the chair.

“And I want to clarify, Aven, that I don’t have a problem with mortals. They are allowed to protest. They are not, however, allowed to infiltrate the palace with their weapons primed for death. I won’t risk your safety.”

“As much as I appreciate it, I know how to take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for most of my life.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should have to. You’re very precious to me. I can’t allow anything to happen to you if it’s within my power to prevent it, which is why we ran.” Cillian offered her a soft smile, and for a blissful second, she let her walls drop to see things from his point of view.

But would she have done the same thing were their roles reversed? No. Absolutely not.

What kind of a person did it make her?

“How does your father feel about our nuptials?” she hazarded the question, glancing over briefly at the king. “He hasn’t said much.”

Although he turned to the side and graced her with only his profile, she had the distinct sense he was watching her.

“He is excited for our land to be at peace,” Cillian hedged.

“He will do anything for it. As will we all.” Only Roran managed to sound snooty when speaking about the end of a war.

“Things are going to be different when I am king,” Cillian assured them both. “These past few years ascending to the throne have given me ample opportunity to see what kind of ruler I’ll be. My father has done his best with the circumstances, but the time is long past due for the reins to pass.”

Listening to him speak helped her nerves settle. She wasn’t exactly calm, but it certainly brought her back to her body. The walls didn’t press quite so closely in on them, and her lungs loosened until every breath felt easier. She didn’t feel like she was drowning on land.

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