Page 10 of The Cursed Crown

“Does this happen often?” Rydekar asked.

She shrugged, not gracing him with an answer.

“You wear nature itself in your veins. Do you ever wonder what power you could wield, if you only wanted to?” His tone was cutting.

Rydekar seemed angry, which amused her greatly. Rissa found that she liked to annoy him nearly as much as she would have liked to throw one of her knives at his pretty face.

Most people feared, or were disgusted by the wilderness inside her, never far from the surface, but unless she was mistaken, she read something very different from him.

Envy.

Naturally, Rissa latched on to it. “Does it frustrate you? That I have a power you don’t possess.”

She knew the answer, but asking him made her triumph complete.

His curt chuckle held no humor. “There’s nothing about you that doesn’t frustrate me.” He sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets in a gesture uncharacteristically casual. Then, he reclined on her bed, throwing his head back. “Dress, if you must. I want us to reach the keep before the court sleeps. The sooner you’re introduced, the sooner you can leave.”

Rissa didn’t quite know what to make of him like this. His eyes weren’t attacking her, he wasn’t biting her head off or insulting her for the moment. He just looked tired. Rydekar seemed younger, smaller. Almost vulnerable.

Well, she could hardly argue against him, when she very much wanted to spend as little time as possible among the gentry. They should leave soon. Yet, she found that she wanted to contradict him on principle. He’d given her yetanotherorder, and she was determined to never obey this arrogant fae king. “Didn’t your father tell you not to rush a lady?”

He never moved, never so much as looked at her. “I swear I will throw you over my shoulder, drag you down and strap you at the back of my horse if you persist in testing me.” His voice remained calm and collected. She wondered how much practice he must have had at hiding his rage.

Because he was furious. She could sense it, taste it.

And she relished it.

She shrugged. “You can try.”

She shouldn’t have pushed—not after the way he’d controlled her earlier. She knew what sort of predator she was dealing with. The problem was that he truly saw her as nothing more than an annoyance, a small, weak girl he could manipulate. That had to end. Right now. Her every instinct told her to show him just what a nightmare was.

She could barely see him move, but the energy in her room crackled, and the next instant, he was flush against her, his warm, hard skin on hers, his hands around her waist. He lifted her up.

She smirked. “I’ve got you.”

Her hands moved to either side of his face and she leaned in, as if to kiss him. Rydekar’s eyes widened.

Just as her lips closed in on his, she opened her mouth and sucked in his dreams.

She could taste them. The memories of joy, of peace and happiness. The laughter of a child and the songs of a mother. A first kiss, promises whispered in the woods. Everything that made him hope and love the world—love himself.

Most people were focused on their own happiness, their own needs. Rydekar’s dreams were for the betterment of his people. He dreamed of a festival where all laughed and danced without fear for tomorrow. He dreamed of his throne being secure. The lords bowing to him, and a queen at his side.

She was nondescript. She could have been anyone, anything. What mattered was that they bowed.

Rissa’s curiosity made her focus on the queen. She could distinguish the hint of her long, dark wavy hair.

“Enough!” The scream pulled her out of the dream.

Back in her treehouse, she faced Rydekar, who didn’t look nearly as collected as he had before.

His eyes, the only expressive things about him, had dimmed dangerously. Rissa couldn’t decide whether they were too cold or too warm. Perhaps a strange, explosive mixture of both.

Letting go of her, Rydekar took a step back, panting.

Finally. Finally, he was treating her like his equal. Something to be feared. Something to berespected.

Rissa was seldom respected. Acknowledged, certainly. The gentry always looked at her, but they saw her as a disgusting bug that might bite if it crawled too close.

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