Page 10

Aurora stared at the piles and piles of items that somehow now belonged to her. Clothes, beauty products, sparkly trinkets she didn’t recognize but were beautiful all the same. Phirdo hovered, waiting with that sour, impatient look on his face.

“He bought all this for me? He picked it all out?” she asked, both incredulous and unsettled.

She heard, rather than saw, Phirdo’s long, annoyed inhale. “Yes. As all husbands do.”

Her mind raced. What should she do? Phirdo was waiting for her to tell him which of these gifts she didn’t like so he could take them away. Truthfully she liked them all, but it was too much. She wanted to point out all the most expensive-looking things and tell Phirdo to take them back since she didn’t need them, but would that make her husband mad?

He’d been…different than she’d expected. Calm—mostly—and soft-spoken. Many times now she’d gotten the sense that he was nervous and searching for something to say. He hadn’t tried to touch her or force her to sit near him. He hadn’t ogled her body or acted pervy. It was confusing. He was confusing.

She worried about what would happen when Phirdo left and they were alone together, though. These people were obsessed with manners. Maybe he was just waiting until their audience was gone to demand his husbandly rights. Aurora swallowed.

“Phirdo, can I ask you a question?”

The man’s eyes almost rolled back. “That is my job.”

“What is he expecting? He bought all this for me. What am I supposed to give him in return?”

Phirdo’s head tipped at that and some of his haughtiness morphed into confusion. He peered at the stacks of items, then back at her. “You’re his wife,” he answered, nonplussed.

“What does that mean? What do I have to do?” When the steward continued to look at her blankly, she added, “Is he expecting me to make his meals, clean the house, rub his feet…” She started scratching her hand nervously. “Sl-sleep with him?”

Phirdo’s arms dropped, and he stared at her like she’d completely befuddled him. “You’re his wife,” he said again, as if that answered her. He lifted a maroon brow. “What do husbands do on Earth?”

She stared down at her feet, trying to figure out how to answer.

“Stop pushing your horns at me,” he snapped.

Aurora jumped back at the harsh tone before she’d registered the words. “But…I don’t have any horns.”

“No—I know you don’t— Never mind.” He let out a short growl of frustration. “I don’t understand you. Just tell me what you want to get rid of, and I’ll be on my way.” From under his breath, she heard him complain, “Sleep with him? In whose bed, I ask you? Preposterous.”

Aurora sighed in defeat. She was getting nowhere. “I don’t need anything changed. It’s all fine.”

“ Fine ,” he repeated, as if the word was offensive. He snapped his screen shut. “No changes. I’ll have an early night, then.” She imagined that would be preferable to going back to the city and working late, but Phirdo’s sharp tone told her otherwise.

“Have a good”—he tipped his head back, weirdly showing his throat the way people here did when greeting and bidding farewell, and stomped out of the room before she finished—“night.”

When she was alone, she stepped out of the room where her gifts were piled. It wasn’t exactly a closet, more a showroom. There weren’t any shelves or hangers, but it was connected to a bedroom like a closet would be.

The style of the house was similar to the other buildings she’d seen. The outer walls were something out of an old fairytale, built of large cool-colored stone. Inside, stone walls or stone accents could be found all over, while the rest of the walls were painted or overlaid with carved wooden accents.

The bedroom had an enormous bed set against a green wall with pretty wood carvings and tapestries depicting natural elements like leaves, branches, and insects. The carvings stretched upward to the vaulted ceiling, where dozens of blown-glass fixtures glowed like enormous fireflies. Across from the bed, the room curved in a semicircle and was inlaid with arched windows that overlooked the fjord and the distant setting sun.

She was meant to sleep here, in the most beautiful room she’d ever had, but she couldn’t keep the building dread at bay. She could hear Phirdo and her husband , Rhaego, talking in the house somewhere. Her heart skittered beneath her ribs, making her jittery. Soon, Phirdo would be gone, and she’d be left alone with her husband. What would happen then?

Aurora sat on the bed and stared out the windows into the orange sun, nerves buzzing. She gave up trying not to scratch her hand. The sting as she dragged her nails across her red skin grounded her, gave her something to focus on.

It was like sheltering in the basement during a tornado siren. There was nothing to be done except sit and wait and wonder whether you were about to be torn apart.

The voices from the other room died out. She rose and rushed to a window, peering at the sheer drop-off where their carriage waited, somehow hanging in midair. Phirdo appeared on the front walk and stepped inside the carriage, his morose expression in place.

She could see him muttering to himself as he drove away. Flew away? Directed it away? What was it called when you made a magical flying machine float in the direction you wanted?

“Aurora?”

She jumped, whirling toward the closed door. That man’s—her husband’s deep rumbling voice cut through the wood dividing them. Knees trembling, she backed away until her spine hit the sun-warmed window. Her eyes were unblinking, locked on the chestnut-brown grain of the door. Her pulse hammered so hard it made her whole body shake.

He called out her name again, and she slid to the ground, tears building in her stinging, wide eyes. Would he come in if she didn’t answer?

“Go away,” she whispered, choking out the desperate plea. “Go away. Go away. Go away.”

The handle of her door turned, and she buried her head in her hands.

“I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I must speak with you.”

He was in her room now. Though she kept her face buried, she could tell by the way his voice carried. The sound of a shuffling step had her adrenaline spiking and her head snapping up to keep the threat in sight.

His brows were drawn, a pained look of guilt on his face. “I can smell your fear, little human. Please know you are safe. I mean you no harm.”

A strangled laugh burst from her chest, along with a stream of tears. Her throat closed. How would he react to being laughed at?

The demon’s mouth tightened, but rather than advance on her, he sunk to his knee like he was trying to coax a scared animal out of hiding. His eyes were steady and determined as he held her gaze. “I’m part of an underground group who has made it their mission to help the humans of Clecania. We are the dissidents.” He paused. His eyes traced over her face.

Aurora could only blink mutely at him.

“I came to Tuva to help,” he continued, brows raised in earnest. “I hope to free you if you wish it. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before.”

Her mind buzzed. Was this a game? “I don’t understand,” she breathed past tears of confusion. “We’re married…aren’t we?”

His chest expanded as though hearing her speak was a relief. “To all of Tuva, we are. But our marriage is just a ruse. I…I needed to get close to one of you quickly. This was the only way.”

Aurora digested his words but couldn’t shake her disbelief. Memories swam in her mind, making her chin wobble.

The disgusting crack of this man breaking someone’s horn.

The sharp bite of rope digging into the skin above her knees.

Red, wild eyes and dripping blood.

His expression appeared honest and eager, but she’d been through too much in the last few days to not allow her fear to drive her suspicion. If he turned out to be lying, she wouldn’t recover.

Hope clawed for purchase inside her chest. She didn’t want to let it in.

Jaw muscles tensing, he opened his mouth to say something and shifted his weight toward her. Aurora flinched.

He froze. Whatever he’d been about to say was silenced. His eyes bounced between hers before he let out a short breath. “What can I do to earn your trust?”

“Leave,” she said shortly. The answer came quicker than her mind had time to process. She might not have said it otherwise. But it was what she wanted. The only thing she needed at that moment was for him to be gone. He was too large, his presence too encompassing. Her mind couldn’t identify anything except the imminent threat of a massive demon looming within striking distance.

The shadow of a wince passed over his features, but he didn’t argue. To her surprise, he nodded. “I won’t come in again. This is your space. But when you’re ready, come find me. We need to speak before the end of the week.”

Aurora’s muscles tensed again when he rose. It took him a long time to reach his full towering height, which only made her blood icier.

The quake of his heavy footfalls traveled through the floor and vibrated against her heels as he crossed to the exit. Before he left, he turned toward her again. “I’ll leave food outside your door. If you need anything else at all, please just call for me. I’ll hear you.”

He closed the door behind him, and she stared at the dark wood.

I’ll hear you.

Was that meant to sound reassuring? All she could focus on was the silent acknowledgment that he’d be lurking in the bowels of the house. Waiting and listening.

She shivered.