Page 5 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

“Do not be so mute. Tell me what you really think.” He leaned closer, pointing a greasy finger at her. “Fire burns in your eyes, my queen. Let’s see it unleashed.”

Her husband stiffened beside her as he leaned in. “Tell me more of what you see in my wife, Lord Bishop,” Jaksen said, chilling her to the bone.

Bishop hesitated, his wine glass pausing at his lips. “If I have offended—”

“You haven’t,” Jaksen cut him off, his fingers turning Arenna’s face toward his. Icy eyes searched hers, as though looking for the flames the lord claimed to see. “I want to know more about this fire you speak of.”

His touch sent a wave of fear through her.

Bishop shifted, clearly unsettled by Jaksen’s insistence. “May I speak boldly?” The Serpent King gave a slight nod. “Queen Arenna is a quiet lass,” Lord Bishop began, swirling his wine. “And in my years of experience, I’ve found quiet women can be the most . . . loud .”

Arenna nearly choked on her wine. She couldn’t bear to look at Jaksen, terrified of the expression she might find on his face. It wouldn’t be the first time she was punished for someone else’s words or for the rage they caused.

Bishop continued, “There’s always a fire in their eyes, like they hold so much in until it burns—screaming to be let out.” Even Serena looked away, her gaze fixated on the plate in front of her.

Suddenly, Lord Bishop’s hand landed on Arenna’s thigh.

Red flashed across her vision. If Jaksen saw—

The king’s arm snaked around her waist, his knuckles brushing her hip. She glanced up at him, her heart pounding in terror. His frosted eyes were already on her, and her blood ran cold.

He had seen Bishop’s hand, and he was furious.

“Do you often have these thoughts about my wife, Zachriel?” Jaksen asked, his calm demeanor unsettling.

The use of his first name made Lord Bishop pale. “Of course not, my king,” he stammered, panic seeping into his words. “I only meant to make an observation.”

Jaksen removed his hand from around Arenna, leaning back on his throne. “An observation,” he repeated, his tone deceptively relaxed, but Arenna knew better.

Bishop nodded nervously.

“Tell me more about your plans to expand into the Red Forest.” Jaksen swatted away the staff and refilled his glass. Bishop’s shoulders sagged in relief at the change of topic, but he hesitated before launching into a ramble.

Arenna barely registered his voice over the pounding in her skull. Sounds were muffled, the music fading into the background.

Jaksen had seen.

Despite her terror, she fought to keep her hands steady.

A shiver raced down her spine, and darkness seemed to envelop the room, the light dimming as the very earth beneath her trembled.

She gripped the armrests of her seat. A glance at Jaksen and the crowd revealed no one else felt what she did, or if they had, no one showed it.

The scent of rain hit her like a crashing wave, overpowering the aromas of food and wine. She glanced at the closed windows, but realized the balcony doors were slightly ajar. A storm must be brewing for the rain to smell so strong.

A man approached the platform, dressed entirely in black, a matching cape cascading down his back like a waterfall of shadows. He hesitated on the second stair, his wide eyes locked onto hers.

Arenna was unnerved by his intense stare as it set her skin ablaze. Her clothing suddenly felt too tight, the air too thick. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until her lungs burned.

“Ah, Emissary Kayson,” Jaksen drawled. “I’m thrilled you finally arrived. I was saddened to hear Lord Maven had fallen ill, but I’m happy that you could ride in his place.” He typically commanded attention, yet the Forx emissary kept his gaze on Arenna, even after being addressed.

“As am I,” Kayson replied, finally blinking and looking at Jaksen. He did not bow. “Lord Maven sent his regards and asked me to bring a trunk of our finest jewels.” A subtle gleam flickered in his eyes, one she couldn’t quite decipher.

Jaksen sipped from his glass, eyeing the assortment of jewels. “Unnecessary, but appreciated.” He waved his hand toward the line of guards behind him, a silent command to remove the trunk. “Please, join us, Kayson.”

Arenna took another gulp from her glass, gooseflesh prickling her skin as she sensed Kayson’s hardened gaze back on her. She refused to look his way, determined not to let him make her feel small in her own home.

Just then, as if summoned by her thoughts, the massive doors of the hall swung open, light flooding the room. Faylen stepped in, her long, blonde hair perfectly pinned in waves down her back and her tanned skin glowing beneath her gown.

She was elegant, regal, and beautiful. Moments like this always sparked questions about why her older sister hadn’t been chosen to be queen; why Jaksen hadn’t fallen for her instead.

Though the question haunted her, Arenna did her best not to dwell on it.

She glanced at Jaksen, at the rugged handsomeness of his features, and her heart strained with the memory that he had once seemed to love her.

The pain that followed those memories was nearly unbearable, and she didn’t know how to let go of it.

“Strange pair, the two of you,” Lord Bishop remarked, gesturing toward Faylen. “One sister born with black hair and emerald eyes, the other with golden hair and sapphire eyes. Which parent do you take after, my queen?”

Arenna’s throat tightened. “My mother.”

Lord Bishop said something she didn’t catch before returning to his plate. But Jaksen hadn’t taken his eyes off Faylen. His gaze followed her sister from the doorway to a seat near a group of noblewomen.

After many breaths, Jaksen must have sensed her watching, because he turned and smiled softly, kissing her cheek. “I love you,” he whispered.

She didn’t bother responding.