Page 11 of Brutal Fae King (Dark Faevea King #1)

I was so determined to see Maribelle, but what he says gives me pause. I had no idea that we were dealing with the likes of gods… I knew there was a prophecy, and the kingdom hung in the balance, its fate depending on whether I stayed here or not, but I didn’t think this was that dire… I truly thought there was some wriggle room for me to go home and see my sister… Essentially, take an afternoon off and see her…

I glance back out the window again. There are still people fighting out there, truly fighting tooth and nail with each other in a horrifying display.

I had no idea things were so bad…

My sister… I still ache to go see her, but this definitely changes things… Now, I’m not sure I even feel comfortable having Maribelle brought to me—even if she was well enough from the Weeping Fever by now to travel. I don’t want to risk her even seeing this, let alone getting caught up in it.

Because she has to be alive. There’s no way she can be dead by now. There’s no way…

I keep staring out the window, but I’m thankful we’re moving fast enough for none of the people to truly notice us as anything more than a vague, unimportant blur. He’s right—the human settlements are a hard place to live, but they’re not… this.

I didn’t even realize what I had. None of us did…

“So…” I say quietly. “Just to get this straight—if I was found by this Dralis person, nowhere in Faevea would be safe from this awful god?”

“I can’t say for sure,” the king says. “Perhaps some of the population would be enslaved. But I always took it that chaos and destruction were the point in and of itself, so I wouldn’t hold out any hope that certain places in Faevea would be left alone. That includes the human settlements if that’s what you were thinking; just because they’re far up North doesn’t mean that they’d be forgotten about by this ruthless god and his followers.”

“I see…”

I fall into silence for a long time. I can feel the king’s gaze beaming into me before he says:

“Speak. What are you thinking?”

“I… just wanted to go home and be with my sister.”

“I’m aware,” he says. “And I hope you’re now aware that me telling you no is not an act of cruelty. It’s genuinely to help the kingdom to survive.”

I keep staring out the window at the destruction. We’re now passing a fire, a blaze in the process of swallowing up an entire building. It’s so hot that I feel like I can feel the heat through the door.

“Is there any way for me to leave and see my sister?” I ask, turning back to him. “Is there no way for me to get safely back to her? Ever?”

But I see that gleam in his eye—the one I’m learning to despise—and he answers:

“There is a way we can attempt to make your travels safer.”

“What is it?” I ask suspiciously.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees and fingers linked.

“Marry me,” he says.

My heart drops into my shoes. My throat becomes thick as I swallow a few times.

“Wh-what?!” I choke. “What do you mean?!”

“If you form an alliance with me in the form of a marriage of convenience, then the situation changes,” he says. “It means that the lost queen will finally be restored to her throne, and all the magic that unlocks—and you will be bound to me and no one else. That means it’ll be harder for anyone else to claim you and your powers to use for evil. I will also be the rightful ruler alongside you, and we shall share the power of the throne equally. In return for you agreeing, I shall teach you how to use your powers.”

I feel my lips purse as I think.

Learn to use my powers…? I’ve never even thought about it. My powers were nothing more than a burden and an excuse for the other villagers not to like me back in Thawallow. Lightning hardly helped with most farmland tasks. It was too volatile to even use for the more destructive tasks, and it only seemed to set fires whenever I tried. Obviously, that didn’t help to make them like me anymore. It didn’t occur to me even in the slightest that they could be wielded for my own means…

I suppose here… they could be useful.

He notices my hesitation, and he adds: “And I will ensure that there are extra protections around Thawallow. There will always be extra guards in place to make sure the village is the safest in the human settlements. In your absence, your sister will be safe—you have my word.”

My eyes sting, and I try to look away so he doesn’t see me almost cry.

“I… think what Maribelle really needs is a healer,” I say. “We could never afford to send out anybody to help her.”

He nods.

“Not a problem for me,” he says. “Marry me, and I will send the best healer in the land directly to Thawallow. Your sister will be cured of the Weeping Fever in no time.”

He's got this smirk on his face—he knows he’s got me now.

He knows that he’s making an offer I can’t refuse, and I can see it in his eyes. I shouldn’t have told him that I couldn’t afford a healer for Maribelle.

I mean, on the one hand, the important thing is that she’s going to get better. But on the other hand, marrying him… Marrying this man…

I’d do so much to keep Maribelle safe, but would I bind myself to this man forever to make sure she gets better?

Well… I have to stay in the castle anyway, possibly forever, and it’d just be a marriage of convenience. We wouldn’t have to… consummate the marriage.

Thoughts suddenly spark over my mind—his warm body, the peaks and valleys of his chest under my hand… how warm his skin is… the scent that always brushes across my face when he gets close, except this time, I’m tasting it… His scent, his taste, rolling over my tongue as I—

Wait! Wait, I was just thinking about how I wouldn’t have to consummate the marriage!

I don’t want to consummate the marriage! Definitely not! Absolutely not!

I shake my head.

“Is that a no?” he asks. “To the marriage?”

I look back at him. His gaze is burning into me.

The way he’s looking at me is beyond intense. I can tell that he is not letting this matter drop. My decision needs to come now.

And it seems like there’s no real choice. I have to stay in this castle, and I absolutely do not want this Mischevil to get what he wants. My choice is to agree to his offer of marriage and have a chance at saving Maribelle, getting control over my powers and sharing the throne and everything that comes with it— or I can reject his offer of marriage, and yes, I’d still be the rightful heir, but I would still be trapped in the castle anyway, and it would clearly continue this relationship I have with him where we passively fight each other. Essentially, it sounds like my choice is to be trapped here, fight him, and get nothing done, or be trapped here, work with him, and possibly save Maribelle.

Put like that… I don’t think I have much of a choice. It seems like the only smart thing to do is to agree to marry him and perhaps see if there’s a chance of escaping at some point in the future when Faevea is no longer in danger and doesn’t need its prophesized lost queen anymore.

After all, I am the queen. Escape should be possible with that kind of power eventually.

So I nod at him.

“Fine,” I say. “I will marry you.”

He grins and nods.

“Good choice,” he says. “I shall send for Faevea’s best healer this very evening, and I will send them out accompanied by half a squadron’s worth of guards to Thawallow on the morrow. We will be married as soon as we can find someone to officiate.”

I swallow hard and nod.

So I don’t have any time at all to formulate an escape… It wasn’t like I thought he’d forget about this if I procrastinated, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.

He nods back and leans a little to the side.

“Mackinel,” he barks. “Take us home.”

The carriage begins slowing down and turning around. I just look down. I almost feel a bit sick.

“I will set you up a bedroom as well,” he says. “Have a think about what furniture and colors you want in there.”

I look up at him, but I don’t have any words.

I’ve… never had a bedroom of my own, let alone one I could decorate…

I open my mouth.

“I—”

A BANG cracks into my right ear, and I feel myself fly from my seat in the carriage in the force. Suddenly, warm arms wrap around me. I blink, and he’s holding me, his arm grabbing me around my waist and pressing me to the side of his hot body. His wings spread wide, defensively.

“Damn!” he growls under his breath and looks down at me with a sharp glare. “ Hold onto me! Do not let me go!”

I nod so vigorously that it’s more like a tremble than a gesture.

He’s standing, and he takes us both to the door. Looking out the window, I see what hit the side of the carriage. There are Naga slithering all over the carriage. They have swords drawn on the driver, whose hands are held up in surrender.

He turns and glares at me again.

“Get behind me, but don’t let me go!” h e orders. “ If they come in, we’re flying away!”

“R-right!” I whimper.

I move behind him and grab ahold of his waist. The king then moves forward and whips the door open.

“Off the carriage!” h e bellows. “ Off the carriage, malcontents!”

The Naga snap around to him. They start approaching us, swords drawn. I yelp in terror. Then, he thrusts his palm at the Naga approaching us. A pulse of magic crashes out from his palm and hits the enemies in a wave. The entire crowd of Naga go flying from the carriage, tails flailing as they soar away.

Whoa! What kind of magic was that?! That’s not elemental magic!

I step out and look at the Naga who have been blown away—and my wrist gets caught. I scream. A Naga pulls my arm, dragging me toward the door of the carriage. His lips have pulled back, his snake teeth bared, hissing.

Strong arms grab me and yank me back into the carriage, accompanied by the shing of a sword being rapidly drawn.

“Touch her and die, vermin!” t he king roars, the sword pointed at the Naga.

The Naga flinches away from the sword. The king thrusts his palm toward him and sends him flying.

All the Naga are starting to slither away in panic. The king pulls my arm, and I stumble back into the carriage.

“Mackinel!” he howls. “Let’s go! Top speed!”

“Y-yes, Sire!” the driver stumbles.

The whip cracks and the horses cry out and start hurtling forward. The king slams the door, and the carriage keeps barreling along. He huffs a breath and looks around at me.

“Are you alright?” he asks. “Did they hurt you?”

“N-no, they didn’t,” I answer.

He nods and then sits down next to me on the seat. There’s so little room with both of us on here that his warm thigh presses up against my leg. A deep shiver runs up through me.

He’s breathing a little heavily and looks over to me.

“That’s why it’s dangerous,” he says. “They didn’t even know who you—who we were since I used the most discreet carriage. Imagine if they knew who you were.”

I nod gravely.

“Don’t ever leave without me,” he orders.

“I won’t,” I say.

Unlike last time I agreed to that, I mean it. We sit in silence for the rest of the journey back to Eyston Keep, but I can’t help but enjoy the feeling of him sitting right next to me, his leg pressed against mine.