Page 43 of Brutal Fae King
I hear a quiet sigh from Bruamin.
“No, Sire,” he tells me. “I do not know what she says. Do you want me to speak with her and find out?”
“Yes,” I say. “But be subtle about it. We do not want her to know that we’re suspicious of her conspiracy.”
Bruamin sighs again. I glare at him.
“You have something to say?” I growl.
“Nothing, Sire,” he answers.
“I know you better than that, old man. Out with it!” I order.
Bruamin shakes his head before he answers me:
“Sire, do you consider, even for a moment, that this might all be unnecessary?”
“Unnecessary?”
“Yes,” he replies. “This young lady would never have left the castle because the witch told her that Faevea would fall if she did. The marriage was not necessary—she wasn’t threatening your rule. On top of that, you sacrifice years of your own life to curse her like this, as if those other measures did not exist.” He lowers his head. “Speaking personally, I worry for you, Sire. This behavior encroaches on the paranoid, and that isnostate for a king.”
I know in my heart he’s right; the kind of vigilance paranoia brings ironically leaves one open to attack.
But I can tell in my turning stomach that something’s wrong. I’m still in danger. I have to be. If Dralis can’t get to her anymore, thenshehas to be the danger.
“Sire, your parents—”
“It is now that you forget yourself,” I answer grimly. “My parents were killed by someone they loved. They let their guard down around just the closest of their friends and family, and paid for it with their lives. I won’t be killed in the same way. Even if she seems harmless, I’m not letting my guard down.”
“Of course,” Bruamin replies. “But must this guard be so high? That curse you cast on her cost you three years of your life, and I worry it’s for no reason.”
“It isn’t acurse,” Isnap. “Any more than being married to me is acurse!It is a deal she agreed upon, and she has transformed overnight from a peasant to aqueen!That isnota curse!”
I turn and glare at him.
“Now, go see what she’s talking about with the staff!”
Bruamin shakes his head softly at me before he catches himself and bows his head.
“At once, Sire.”
As he turns to walk out, my stomach gives another churn.
I shouldn’t talk that way to Bruamin.My incredibly dulled conscious whispers.
“Bruamin!”
The old man looks at me lightly.
“I… thank you. For the tea,” I say. “I probably needed something.”
He just bows his head at me, but his eyes are a little softer.
***
Bruamin isn’t back with his report by the time dinner is made. I suppose there’s nothing for it—she needs to trust him to speak freely in front of him, and that may take some time.
But damn it all—I need to know what she’s planning!
