Page 10 of Rejected By the Fae King (Kings of the Fae Islands 3)

With that thought, he grabbed his brother’s letter and the half written one he’d been composing and threw them both into the fireplace. With the same fascination he’d watched the ink spread, he now watched the parchment go up in flames, the fire changing color whenever it began to burn the ink, flickering blue and green before returning to its usual amber-red hue.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him caused him to almost jump right out of his skin. "Your Majesty?"

It took a moment for him to recognize the familiar voice of his advisor, Paxton.

"Yes?" he said through gritted teeth, not in any mood for company. He told himself his dark mood was due to being unable to tuck his daughter into bed for the first time since he could remember, but deep down he knew it was so much more than that. It had far more to do with his own stubbornness than anything else.

"Are you well, my lord?" Paxton asked, appearing at Asher's side from the doorway of the study. Clearly the advisor had not come only to ask if he was okay, and so Asher forced himself to nod. He’d never been one for admitting his feelings to anybody, even his closest servant.

"What is it, Paxton? What cannot wait until morning?"

He didn't look up from his desk, and instead focused on the paperwork that seemed to have been piling up around him all day.

"I have some papers that need your signature before I can send them off in the morning," Paxton confessed, and revealed the pile of parchment he’d concealed in the bell sleeves of his robes.

With a deep sigh, Asher took them from him and began to sign in the required spaces.

"Was that the letter from your brother?" Paxton asked, his voice small even as he inclined his head toward the fireplace. Though Asher didn’t look at him, he could see the gesture well enough from the corner of his eye.

He knows me too well, Asher groaned, and decided it was best not to lie to him.

"It was," he responded, signing the last page before wafting a hand over it to dry the ink.

"Is there anything you need my advice on?" Paxton asked, his tone overly cautious. Asher took a deep breath to remind himself it was the job of his advisor to keep an eye on things. He’s only doing his duty.

Then he shook his head and forced himself to look at the other fae with a smile. Paxton did not look convinced, and his eyebrow remained raised for only a moment before he seemed to think better of pressing the matter.

"I do hope there’s nothing troubling Your Majesty," Paxton said as Asher handed the pile of parchment back to him and he placed it back in his sleeves.

"It’s nothing I can't handle," Asher assured him. Yet in his own mind, he wasn't so sure.

Chapter 7 - Rayne

Almost two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Rayne quickly fell into her new routine with grace, enjoying every minute spent in the princess's company. The little girl was a delight to be around, polite and kind to all who she met. The bond between Rayne and her charge was as much a surprise to her as it had been to the king on the first night of her duties.

The job certainly didn't feel like one, and the only time she remembered it was, was when the king himself was in attendance in the nursery, either having breakfast or reading his daughter a bedtime story. She often felt him watching her, though she couldn't tell whether it was to observe and judge her work, or whether there was something deeper and darker to the lingering glances she felt upon her.

Every so often, she caught his eye and was almost sure she saw the hunger of desire burning in the depths of his pupils. She tried not to think on it too hard, remembering all too well the pain she still felt at having let her community down when he’d rejected her as his bride.

Though she was pleased with the comfort they’d been afforded, her mother was still not entirely satisfied, and she continued her nightly lectures on trying to gain the king's attention and affection. Part of Rayne wanted to take up her mother's advice, if only to win his affection and then reject him as he’d done her, just to make him feel what she felt. But whenever she was in his presence, she found herself forgetting all of that. The way she acted around him, falling into a routine, felt so natural, she couldn't bring herself to act any other way.

Sitting upon the edge of Elia's bed one night, Rayne read the princess's favorite story, the Princess and the Pea. She sensed the king as he entered but did not pause in her reading. When she glanced up from the pages, he lifted his index finger to his lips and waved her to continue with his hand. His mere presence caused her heart to skip a beat and her pulse to quicken, but she tried her hardest to ignore her body's reaction and continue reading.

Elia barely seemed to notice her father's presence. Already half-asleep, the princess blinked sleepily up at him with a smile as he sat down opposite Rayne. She continued to read, watching the king lean down to press his lips to his daughter's forehead. The gesture caused Rayne's heart to swell, and she moved her free hand to lay on Elia's leg. Giving her limb a gentle, comforting squeeze, she let her hand remain there as she read.

She was almost at the end of the story when she felt something brush her hand. A moment later, the king's palm landed on top of her knuckles and she flinched away in surprise, cutting off with only a few sentences to go.

She cringed, half-expecting the princess's eyes to flutter open and demand she finish the story. Yet, when she glanced down, she saw the princess's eyelashes were gently fluttering against her cheeks as though she were already in deep dreams.

"I'm sorry," the king's apology startled her. She’d never heard of a nobleman or royal apologizing for anything. "I got caught up in the moment."

Rayne instantly began to regret the way she’d reacted. Had she been a little more prepared for it, she might have allowed him to hold her hand, even if just for a few moments.

"I’m just so thankful to you," the king continued, causing Rayne even more surprise. She gazed at the king over the bed, unable to move or speak. The way he was looking at her made her want to put her hand back under his, but she didn't dare disturb the small child sleeping soundly between them.

"Th... thankful for what?" she whispered, glancing at the navy-haired princess to be sure she hadn't spoken too loudly.

"This," the king inclined his head to his daughter. "She’s never been such a peaceful child."

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