Page 45 of The Forgotten Queen
Sydria walked straight to the door between their two rooms and opened the one on her side, purposefully knocking loudly on his. She was ready to draw the lines before Marx had a chance to cross them. She needed to spell out the terms of their relationship—the things that they hadn’t discussed—and it needed to happen before he ever stepped foot in her room.
Yes, it was best that she got out in front of his expectations before it was too late.
Marx
Marx dipped his head under the cool shower water, rinsing the soap out of his hair. The day had started off badly. He’d gone racing in the morning, trying to run away from the realities of his life, but somehow, everything had ended better than he’d expected.
Out of all the women his father could have chosen for him to marry, Sydria Hasler was about the best option he could have ended up with, not because she was beautiful—although she was—but because she wanted something. She desperately wanted to know who she was. She’d said as much the first time they’d met. At the time, Marx had thought she was speaking figuratively, but her literal predicament worked to his advantage. They both needed something. He wanted his father to think that he’d tried with this marriage before ending it and she wanted her identity. They could help each other.
It was the perfect scenario. As long as Marx could make his father believe that he was complying, he’d be able to gain the upper hand, and maybe for once in his life, he would be able to control his own destiny.
He turned off the faucet and rubbed the water out of his eyes. As he slid the shower door open, a knock pounded on his bedroom door.
“Come in,” he yelled. It was probably Elsbeth.
He grabbed the towel from the golden hook on the wall and wrapped it around his waist, tying it in a knot so that it stayed put. Outside the bathroom, the door clicked shut. Marx wiped his wet feet on the plush shower mat and ran his fingers quickly through his hair so that he at least looked presentable. Not that Elsbeth cared.
“What do you need?” he asked as he walked out of the bathroom.
He stopped walking and stared blankly at the woman before him.
Cheney stood in the middle of his bedroom. Her eyes took in his wet torso and his undressed state. Her lips curled into a smile that Marx didn’t like.
“How did you get in here?” he asked. He’d never had a woman in his chamber before.
“You told me to come in.” Her smile lifted higher.
“No, I mean how did you get past the guards?”
“Kase let me in.” She skimmed her fingers over the back of the white linen couch.
He was going to kill Kase for behaving more like a friend than a guard. “What are you doing here?”
“Is it really so difficult to guess?” There was a sensual tinge to her voice that made Marx uncomfortable, especially when he was pretty much naked. He looked down at his bare chest and towel. “Let me go change first.”
“There’s really no need,” she said, adding a smile. “I don’t mind.”
“I mind.” He moved to go back to his closet when another knock sounded at the door, causing him to turn back around. Who was here now?
“I think it came from this door.” Cheney pointed behind to the wooden door that separated the king’s suite from the queen’s.
Marx reached out. “Wait. Don’t open it.” But he was too late. Cheney was already swinging it open.
Sydria’s eyes locked with Cheney’s, then her gaze shifted to Marx and his bare chest. Her jaw dropped five feet to the floor.
This looked bad.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Sydria said, stumbling back. “I didn’t know that—”
“You don’t have to apologize.” A satisfied smirk flittered across Cheney’s lips. “CanIhelp you with something?” Leave it to Cheney to act like she owned the place.
“No.”Sydria swallowed. “What I came to say can wait until tomorrow.”
Marx rubbed his forehead. This may be a fake marriage, but he intended to approach it with fidelity. He hadn’t gotten off to a good start, at least from Sydria’s perspective.
She backed up from the door. “You guys enjoy your night.” She closed her side, and the bolt clicked into place.
Cheney shrugged as if she couldn’t understand why Sydria had behaved so weirdly. She shut his side and locked it, turning back to him. “Where were we?”
