Page 90 of A Cursed Son

Beside me, it’s as if Marlak has become taller, bigger, more powerful. A true prince.

He puts a hand on his chest, and inclines his head. That looks a lot like bowing to me, but what do I know?

“I’m King Marlak, of the Crystal Court, and seek an audience with your queen.”

King… I want to scoff, but I’m used to his preposterousness by now. I’m a little ticked that he didn’t introduce me, and then again, what do I know about fae decorum?

The guard looks us up and down. “She’s expecting you.”

Right. Another advantage of a long staircase is giving hosts plenty of forewarning about visitors—or attackers. Unless they can fly or float, of course.

If she sent a single guard, she’s not afraid of Marlak, and he must be right that she’s an ally. Then again, power is a flimsy thing and can shift hands easily. It makes sense to be amicable to someone who could be a future king, unless she plans on bringing Marlak’s head to his brother. I truly hope that’s not the case, but then, I trust his magic and his willingness to keep me safe.

We enter a large, tall hall, simple like the exterior, its walls made of rough rock, with moss growing among some crevices, and a set of wooden stairs leading to a kind of mezzanine. This place looks even more unfinished than the house on the island, and I’m wondering at the fae standards of living.

The guard climbs the wooden steps and we follow. Upstairs, I understand why this is a palace. It’s still made of rock, but with many glass windows. There are tapestries on the walls and many types of fur rugs on the floor. A woman is lounging on a chaise, two fae servants massaging her feet, while another massages her back.

Some ten guards stand at some distance from her. There’s a table on a corner with fruit, cheese, meat cuts, and drinks. Although the space is simple, everything in it is luxurious.

The woman—I can’t believe it. Her chest is not exactly bare, but all she’s wearing is a necklace with thin silver chains, as if decorating her rosy, taut nipples. Her hair is black, but it’s so shiny that it looks almost silver. Her skin is light and perfect, as well as her sculptured features and piercing gray eyes.

I glance at Marlak, just to see his reaction. I never took him for the gawking type, but in front of this queen, even I want to gawk, and I’m not even into women. He doesn’t look impressed or surprised, and maybe that’s not an unusual fae attire. The idea of me suggesting walking into his room, tits out, sounds a lot less alluring if it’s something fae can do so nonchalantly. Suddenly my transparent nightgowns make even more sense.

I don’t like it, though. I don’t like to understand so clearly why Marlak can stare at me in the face and tell me I’m unattractive. Compared to this queen, I am.

He approaches her and kneels. Kneels! Then he takes her hand and kisses it. “Queen Berta. Your beauty is as astonishing as always, more dazzling than the sun.”

Great. I want to puke. But I don’t want to feel like an idiot, so I decide to act like an idiot and follow suit, kneeling by her after he gets up. She frowns, but I ignore it, and take her hand. “Your tits are incredible, as appetizing as ripe mangoes.”

She widens her eyes, and I feel Marlak pulling me back to a fur rug, where he sits cross-legged. I do the same beside him.

The queen has her eyes on him. “Oh, princeling, what a scare you gave me, when I heard you saying the Crystal Court King was here. You made me think of your odious brother.”

Marlak’s eyes twitch, but it’s the only sign he didn’t appreciate what she said. He smiles. “It’s me. Your devoted ally.”

The queen gets up, and I notice that her long skirt is partly transparent. She kneels in front of Marlak, then puts her hands in front of her, so that she’s on all fours, her necklaces dangling in front of her. Her voice is husky and seductive as she says, “I want more, though. You’re of age now.”

Something bitter is stirring in my stomach. The position she’s in, I wouldn’t doubt she’d ask him to go behind her and get into the action, and I don’t know if he’s the type of man who would refuse such an opportunity.

I want to look away, afraid of what I’ll see, and yet I want to keep looking, to make sure I’m wrong. I know I’m not supposed to care about him, but he’s still my husband, and I don’t want to go through the humiliation of witnessing him make love to another woman right in front of me.

“Indeed I am,” he says, his tone neutral.

Queen Berta leans back and sits on her heels. The necklaces settle between her breasts now. “Then my proposal is the same, princeling.”

He lowers his head. “A very generous proposal. It would be quite tempting, but I’m already married.”

Her eyes finally set on me, and she sneers. “To this one, I suppose.”

“Indeed.” His voice is level except for a subtle, sharp edge, like a splinter in an otherwise smooth piece of wood.

The queen pouts. “I’m not the jealous type. As long as there are no bastards, you can keep her as your bed servan?—”

She doesn’t get the chance to finish the word as her eyes go wide, and she moves her hands to her throat, as if suffocating. I look around to see if the guards are going to move, but they’re all surrounded by ice. The temperature in the room plummets. Ice covers the windows and then the glass blasts into thousands of pieces.

Marlak gets up and extends a hand to help me do the same, then points at one of the broken windows. “That’s our way out.”

So we’ll… jump? I can hear steps down below, and don’t need to be a genius to guess that there are more guards coming. Marlak walks to the window. There’s a precipice below us, much unlike the side of the hill from where we came. I assume we’re on the edge of a plateau.