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When they reached the bed, Toren pulled back the covers, and Mehl settled Ria between the sheets. She frowned up at them. “Aren’t you joining me? It can’t be time for court yet.”

Toren eyed the pale glow of dawn outside the window and sighed. “No, but it takes time to don court finery and prepare. You should sleep.”

“Alone?” Abruptly, Ria sat up, her gaze darting around the room. “Will it be safe?”

“I…” He stopped himself before the reassurance could slip free. After Princess Lora’s incursion, he could give no guarantees. “Mehl should stay. I can deal with the court.”

Mehl’s lips thinned. “I haven’t had cause to miss in years. Decades. After last night, the rumors—”

“No, please.” Ria swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. “I’ll come with you. There must be somewhere out of the way for me to stand.”

She wobbled a little on her feet, and more heat than regret flashed through him when he considered why. He would not have her standing for hours, not when her muscles were shaky from his repeated taking. Yet only those on the dais sat, unless they were aged or physically unable. There were traditions connected to court, and she was not their queen.

They were joined only through the breeding contract. She hadn’t even reached out to link their energies when he’d been unable to hold onto his magic earlier—an odd regret he tried not to examine too closely. After all, he’d been the one to adamantly command her not to connect them in such a way.

“Sir Macoe could wait with her,” Mehl said.

For some reason, the thought of her relying on the captain turned Toren’s stomach. “No. She will sit with us.”

The court’s traditions weren’t magically bound laws, after all, and he was High King. If he wished for the royal consort to have a seat on the dais, then she would. Every tradition had to start somewhere.

But Ria paled. “I’m grateful for the consideration. Truly. It’s only…the dais? I received enough rancorous looks as a guest at the dining table.”

“They will obey, or they will lose their invitations to court,” Toren insisted.

“Then rescind mine.” Ria’s shoulders jerked back, and her nostrils flared. “BecauseIam not going to obey.”

Chapter30

Proclamations

Time slowed as Ria watched Toren’s expression morph from resolved to shocked to angry. Coldly, deeply angry. Her heart leaped and pounded in her chest until she found herself pressing her palm between her breasts. Gods, his lips were practically white, he’d pinched them together so tightly. But she couldn’t back down. She just couldn’t.

If she had to sit in front of a crowd of nobles while they speculated on her position there, she would vomit. The thought alone made her stomach turn. No matter what title she now carried, everyone knew she was the kings’ consort. A mere vessel, really. She had no place on the dais. And after all she’d been through in the last day… No. It was too much.

Toren’s hands clenched, and he took a step forward. Ria froze, her gaze locking on his fist and her body going tense in anticipation of the blow. He could punish her however he liked for defying his order. She’d taken beatings for less. It would be a familiar pain, more so than the agony of being gawked at and whispered about for hours.

“Ria,” Toren said, and the raw, broken sound of his voice startled her enough that she dared meet his eyes. “I would never strike you. Never.”

Cold sweat broke across her brow at his words, and her hand trembled against her chest. There was a horrified pain in his gaze as it held hers. He meant it. She knew he meant it. But her body couldn’t seem to catch up. She sucked in a ragged breath and gave a jerky nod.

“Even if you change your mind about that,” she whispered, “I won’t do it. You can’t ask me to after all I’ve been through.”

Toren’s skin paled, much the shade it had been when he’d hurried into that brown sitting room after she’d escaped Tes. Slowly, he eased back until there was more distance between them, and she couldn’t help but note that he’d relaxed his hands at his sides. Still, her tension remained.

Beside her, Mehl shifted, drawing her gaze. “Toren wasn’t thinking, I’m sure. You needn’t sit on the dais, especially after last night. Forget the rumors. I’ll stay.”

The chiding look he shot his husband was far from subtle, but it was lost on Toren. His eyes hadn’t left her face even when her attention had shifted to Mehl for a moment. She’d felt the burn of that regard down to her soul. But when she turned to Toren again, she found his expression closed. Unreadable.

“Forgive me, Ria,” he said, each word carefully measured.

Was he angry? Worried? Upset? It was impossible to tell, and that was almost as terrible as his unthinking advance had been. A lot could hide behind a shuttered wall—including the worst violence. Some of her father’s most terrible rages had come from nowhere. Instinctively, she shivered.

Toren’s face fell. “Perhaps you cannot,” he murmured.

Relief rushed through her at that sign of emotion, but it was a bittersweet giddiness. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. “It’s not that,” she said. “I thought you were still angry. You closed yourself off, and I…”

“Didn’t know what to do,” Toren said, running his hand through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “I thought my lack of emotion might help, but I see now that I was wrong.”