Page 48 of Brutal Fae King
“Thawallow isdreadful!The people are vile, it’s riddled with plague, there’s barely enough to eat—and there’s no chance of leaving because you’re too busy surviving day to day!The castle dungeons were better!” I scream. “Maribelle isthe only thing that matters there! The only thing!”
The king gives me the most sympathetic frown I’ve seen on his face.
“You were happier in the castle dungeons?” he asks.
“I HAVENEVERBEEN HAPPYANYWHERE!”I scream.
I pant for a few moments before I just hang my head. I’m hanging from his hands, still clasped around my wrists. There’s silence for what feels like an eternity.
“So,” he says quietly, so quietly, “you’ve just given up on being happy… because someone else needs you…”
I can’t answer; my eyes are stinging. My throat is wobbling. I just don’t want to cry in front of him.
My hands are suddenly freed.
“I… know how that feels,” he says.
I want to bite back—but I’m still choking down a crying fit. But then I look in his eyes and there is knowing in there.
“It’s hard to be happy when there’s so many people who need you…” He mutters. “And they’re all suffering so much…”
“And you can’t do anything,” I blubber. “No matter what you do, you can’t fix it!”
“But they look to you anyway,” he adds on. “Like you should know what to do, but you can’t help them… and they… they don’t understand why you’re not helping them…”
Maribelle’s watery eyes, brimming with as much fear as leakage from the Weeping Fever, flash behind my eyes. Those eyes… they were begging for help. But what couldIdo against the plague?
I fold over as the crying fit erupts from me. I howl in the years of misery that have been built up in my heart. The screaming cry that leaves my lips wrenches up from my gut and screeches out into the air.
There’s aclangof metal hitting the floor, and I barely have enough time to look and see the king’s sword abandoned on the ground before his arms close around me.
“I’m sorry, Ebelor,” he says. “It’s a terrible thing to be burdened with. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”
Another wave of tears pours from me. My throat is wobbling so much I can barely speak:
“Th-thank you! Thank you! That’sallI’ve ever wanted to hear!”
He pulls me in harder into his chest. He’s warm. He smells incredible—I didn’t realizehowincredible until I was crammed so close to his hot skin. Something glimmers from the corner of my eye, and I look over. His wing has folded over the top of my shoulders as well, like a cocoon around me. Somehow, it’s radiating heat as much as the rest of him.
He’s so warm, but he’s in full armor. Is it me? Am I imagining this heat, or… is he so warm that it can radiate all the way through the metal?
The only way to tell would be if he took the armor off…
Heat crawls through my body as well, from the pit of my stomach into my throat. The naughty thought sneaks in before I can stop it—wondering what would happen if he took it all off…
Wait!It hits me like a slap to the face.What am I doing?
I wriggle, and he steps back from me.
It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time. When his face isn’t smirking, sneering, or scowling, he's beautiful. Those eyes are endless, a rich brown that I could lose myself in.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I spent my childhood hearing tales of the usurper queen who would destroy Faevea—I treated you badly because of them. Clearly, you’re not some kind of assassin, and you’ve notdoneanything worthy of suspicion.”
He looks away, regret filling his beautiful features.
“Bruamin was right, Iamparanoid…”
Even pained, that face is so perfect, his strong jaw clenching in stress. Without thought, my hand reaches forward and touches his jaw. He flinches and looks back at me, and I rest my hand on his face. He hesitates before placing his hand on mine.
