Page 146 of Wedlock
“It’s not one I ever wanted to play,” she whispers.
“Where have I heard that before?” I grin.
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I’m careful to meet her gaze respectfully when I rise from my curtsy, schooling my face to show no trace of the disgust I feel for the baby-eating monster before me, or the sycophants surrounding her.
Unlike my previous audience with her, which had been somewhat private, this time she’s met us with other royals standing on both sides of the long, mirrored hall that leads to her throne. Some of them look at me with frank curiosity, others look away quickly when I meet their gaze.
The hairs rise on the back of my neck, and I flick a quick glance to Falcon, noting the muscles in his jaw are tense. It seems like these other vampires are witnesses. It’s obvious the Queen is upto something, something I hope to hell he understands, because I sure as shit don’t.
On the way here he’d told me that the Queen was just following protocol by insisting we attend Court. He said she wouldn’t have had to drag us in like errant children if he’d taken at least a little of his disgraced mother’s advice and regularly pulled up his chair at the big table. For too long he’d avoided the games of the Court, to the detriment of his house. Starting tonight he planned to take more of an interest in the goings on of the nobility to ensure there were no future nasty surprises. He’d assured me playing this game ran in his blood, as much as he despised it, and that he had a plan, so I needn’t panic.
I trust him, but honestly I’d do anything never to have to be in this place or standing before this creature, again. And I get the feeling this isn’t quite what he’d anticipated either.
As I straighten my shoulders and raise my chin, despite my internal cringe, the boys do us both proud with perfect little bows.
“What a delight,” the Queen says, her tone in no way reflecting her words, “come here, children.”
I grit my teeth as they do as they’re told.
As they approach she indicates they should sit on the steps at her feet. I know she won’t eat them, they’re vampires, royal vampires at that. But that doesn’t mean I want her within ten feet of my kids.
“Thank you for the invitation, Your Grace,” Falcon drawls.
She narrows malevolent eyes at us and makes no move to ask us to sit.
“I’ve waited too long to see the ‘world’s most adorable’ royals,” she says, her words dripping sarcasm.
I bite my tongue at her reference to the magazine headline from our most recent feature. In the past few months we’ve paved the way meticulously for my miraculous return from the dead. From flashy photographic spreads in home and fashion magazines, to television interviews. We’d been everywhere; the ‘everywoman who won her prince,’ and the ‘reformed monster turned picture-perfect husband.’
“Indeed,” the Queen goes on, “how wonderful to be in the presence of someone who had done so much to highlight the stigma surrounding post-partum depression. A woman, a royal no less, who told the world such an inspiring story of perseverance and triumph over mental anguish.”
“It was my duty,” I smile sweetly at her, “and I couldn’t have done it without the loving support of my husband.”
The Queen bursts out laughing. The rest of her retinue follows suit, but Falcon and I stand still, not reacting.
“Yes,” she says, her mirth ending as fast as it had begun. “Your husband, and your children, of course. They must have been such a motivation for yourrecovery.Especially given the talents of the oldest boy.”
Falcon clears his throat. The intimation that I’d been returned from hiding because I had fae blood, is clear.
“They are a wonder and a joy,” he says quietly.
“And yet, I understand your wife is unable to have any more children,” the Queen says with mock sadness, her expression anything but.
“Yes, I was hurt, died actually, giving birth to them,” I nod, saddened that the boys have to hear and believe this lie.
“Yet, we must be sure,” she smiles, her eyes glittering and fangs showing as she turns her attention back to Falcon. “My personal physicians will examine her now.”
She claps her hands and two guards approach.
I gasp as Falcon stiffens by my side.
‘What? There’s no fucking way I’m going to be examined by this bitch’s creepy doctors!’
The vampires surrounding us are silent and look away as my incredulous eyes meet theirs.
“That won’t be necessary, Your Majesty,” Falcon growls.
