Page 70 of Princess of Thorns and Ruin

I’ve lived for a hundred years, with many centuries to come, and yet this is probably the highlight of my life. How depressing. Despite the knot in my stomach and the dread in my heart, the midnight wedding is on track.

Chapter 26

King of Angels

LEO

“Dude, where were you?” Quentin asks from the other end of the hallway, scratching his neck. His dark hair is wet, so he’s fresh out of the shower, and his neck is untouched.

I walk over to him. “I’ve had a servant trailing two steps behind me since we arrived, but he finally let me breathe.”

First-bloods are trusted with most of the same responsibilities in this court, but my gender created a bit of an upheaval. While they can’t keep me from the princess altogether, they made sure that a servant follows me everywhere on the guise of showing me the ropes.

“They don’t like me here,” I grunt.

Quentin’s frown melts. “They don’t like the fact that you’re a dude. After the wedding, you should be in the clear. Come on, let’s grab a bite, I’m starving.” He pats my shoulder and guides me to the servant’s hall.

Instead of secret passageways and intrigue, the common room feels and looks more like a cafeteria. A buffet is laid out by the kitchens with trays, plates, and utensils. Plants grow in white planters by the windows, crawling toward the last rays of twilight.

“Funny how vampires hate the sun, and yet, we’re the ones stuck in the basement,” I crack.

Quentin starts piling pastries on a plate. “I like it here. No moldy crypts and catacombs. And the view from the open-roof terrace is just—” he kisses his fingertips in approval.

It’s a good thing he likes it, because Lucas won’t return to Europe anytime soon. The princess either, I guess, though the mere thought of her marrying the sleazy king turns my stomach.

I slide a tray along the metal rail and peruse the options. “What about you? You look…full of blood.”

Quentin’s always a little pale in the evenings, right after feeding time.

“Lucas wasn’t hungry. He looks nervous, to be honest. I don’t think he likes the idea of the princess marrying his uncle.”

Him and me both. I hated how the king looked at Arielle, like she was nothing but a meal.

Quentin and I sit with our breakfast at a 2-seat table, and he lowers his voice. “Is the king right to put you on a tight leash? Did the princess ask you to do her?”

“No,” I answer immediately.

Quentin’s got a big mouth, and he’s a lousy liar, so I can’t trust him to keep a secret. I shiver at what the king might do if he heard of my true feelings for Arielle. The soldiers here look about as nice as the ones in the Delacroix court—though the fact that Jasper Beaumont isn’t among them is definitely a plus for Brazil.

“The king is a lucky fucker, that’s for sure. I don’t get why she agreed to marry him, though. I guess she wanted to be queen bad enough not to care about his age—or his looks.”

I swallow a sour bite of omelet. “Don’t say that.”

“Sorry man. I just don’t get it, honestly.” He shrugs with his palms face up, and I feel like I’m the one being difficult when he’s actually being an ass.

“I don’t think she had much choice on the matter,” I finally snap.

He stuffs a big piece of bread in his mouth. “She’s immortal and rich, and I’m sure she could kick that old king’s ass if she wanted. Why would she go through with this wedding if she didn’t want it?” His gaze flies to the entrance, and his eyes widen. “Is that your chaperone?”

I crane my neck around to check. “No, I’m in the clear. The princess is putting on her wedding dress.”

A man leans casually on the juice bar, staring straight at us. Brown waves curl around his ears, and an ethereal light shines off the top of his head, almost like a halo.

I stiffen as our gazes meet, all the hair on my arms rising to attention. He licks his lips and raises his glass in greeting, his sky-blue irises fixed on me. My stomach cramps, and at once, I know I’m staring into the face of death.

Not just any death, but the one we ward ourselves against with crosses and hushed words.

I was raised on an island full of vampires, so I know what death wrapped in sin looks like, but this man is different. The skin at the base of my neck itches under his gaze, and my ears buzz, the laughter and conversations around us muffled by an echo.

---