Page 47 of The Forgotten Queen
You are my only future.
Wind whipped around her. The floor beneath opened up, and suddenly she fell through the vortex into blackness.
Sydria closed her eyes, trying not to think about the dream she’d had last night and what it meant. It probably didn’t mean anything, just some version of her own wedding night nightmare. She reached out in front of her, grabbing the strawberry jelly on the table, and spread it across her toast. Idella had set up breakfast for her on the terrace outside the royal sitting room. She looked up at the white canopy above her head, grateful for the shade it provided. The heat of the day had already started to creep in.
“Mmm.” She sighed as she took a bite of the toast. She’d missed the taste of strawberry jelly. It must have been something her mother had made back home in Northland. If that was even where she was from.
She was glad the king wasn’t there. She didn’t know if she could face him after stumbling upon him and Cheney together in his room last night. What had Sydria been thinking? It was laughable, really, that she had assumed the king had wanted to spend his wedding night with her. He probably had a plethora of women he could choose from.
Sydria was nothing to him.
Thank goodness for that.
Things were exactly how she wanted them. She hadn’t wanted to spend her wedding night with King Marx either, but still, a pang of hurt poked around inside of her, enough that Sydria had tossed and turned the first hour after she’d lain down to sleep. Then her mind had conjured up that dream. And, to make things worse, Sydria couldn’t stop thinking about Cheney. Sydria had never been the jealous type, at least she didn’t think she had, but there was something about Cheney that brewed envy deep inside of her.
Sydria shook the feelings away. This was the perfect situation. Her responsibilities to the king would be simple—even more so if nothing physical was included.
The glass door to the terrace slid open, and King Marx walked out, wearing light blue dress shorts and a tight pink v-neck shirt. Sydria choked on her toast at the sight of him.
He smiled down at her, completely unfazed by the awkwardness of the night before. He was probably used to several people in the castle knowing about his nightly extracurricular activities.
“Good morning,” he said, pulling out the chair next to her and sitting down.
She finished chewing the bits of toast she’d just so gracefully choked on. “Good morning.”
He reached out for the juice, bringing the bottle to her cup first and pouring her some.
It was a kind gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.
“What do you have planned for your first day as queen?” he asked, filling his plate with food.
Were they really not going to talk about the night before?
“Uh…Idella said I’m going to have tea with your mother and sister.”
“Ooh, that sounds intimidating.” His eyes went wide.
“Is it intimidating?”
“Nah, I was just joking. The women in the family are very easy and pleasant.”
“What about the men?” She raised her eyebrow. “Are they easy and pleasant?”
He looked at her with a playful gleam. “Some of the time.”
“I…uh.” She glanced at her plate of food, trying not to focus on how cute the gleam in his hazel eyes was. “I also have a dress fitting with the castle seamstress later this afternoon to get my wardrobe designed.” That was one appointment Sydria was excited about.
“I think I’ll join you for that.”
“You want to come to my dress fitting?”
“I’m not going to turn down a new suit, and maybe we can get a matching outfit made for when we make our first official appearance as man and wife.”
“Oh, okay.” Matching outfits seemed a little juvenile, but Marx was the king, so he could do whatever he wanted.
He rolled his neck around, rubbing the side of it. “I kinked my neck. I must have slept on it wrong last night.”
“Perhaps it had something to do with your nightly activities with Cheney,” she said sweetly, sipping her juice.
