Page 11 of Fae-King It (Mystical Matchmakers #5)
CHAPTER TEN
Dominique found herself relaxing with Aisling Byrne. Far more than she did with the young woman’s brother.
Aisling was funny in the same sharp, dry way as her brother, but it didn’t grate on Dominique’s nerves the way Ronan did. She often delivered her observations in such a conversational tone that it took Dominique a beat to catch the sarcasm. She was also sweet in her own guarded way. Dominique could sense it in the way she looked at her brother and cousins. She also didn’t care much for her parents. Aisling wasn’t as vocal about it as Ronan, but there was a coldness to her gaze when she studied her mother or father.
“You know, when my brother told me I probably wouldn’t like you, I decided I would just to mess with him,” Aisling commented. “But now that I’ve talked to you, I’ve also decided that I really do like you and to tell you that you could do so much better than my brother.”
Dominique almost choked on her wine at Aisling’s words. “What?”
The princess grinned at her. “My brother is grumpy, rude, and single-minded. I don’t know you well yet, but I can tell you are a caring woman beneath the whole ice queen thing you have going on. How in the hell did he convince you to marry him?”
Dominique took another drink of her wine, covering her discomfort with the action. “Honestly, I don’t know. He showed up with the ring one day and demanded that I marry him.”
It was essentially the truth. In the fae realm, most supernaturals had some sort of magic and could often sense dishonesty. As a result, few of them bothered to lie. However, when one did lie to a fae, they must choose their words carefully. By using an explanation so close to the truth, Dominique was ensuring it wouldn’t set off the alarm bells of any fae with mental magic.
“Sounds just like him,” Aisling said. “He decides he wants something, or in this case someone, and he does whatever he must to take it. It never occurs to him that he needs to earn it. Or her.”
As Dominique mulled over that statement, the queen glided up to them, a small smile on her face. There was something about the way Bronwyn moved and the gleam in her eye, which reminded Dominique of a cat. A cruel one. All night, she sensed the woman waiting for her chance to pounce. It seemed the time had arrived.
Sure enough, the queen’s sister-in-law, Elodie, gestured for Aisling to come over.
“Please excuse me,” Aisling said to Dominique. She put a hand on her arm, squeezing gently. The look in her eyes said she knew exactly what was about to happen. There was a twinkle there, as well. “You are so much better than Ronan led me to believe, which is high praise considering that he doles out compliments once every decade or so.”
Sensing that was Aisling’s way of reassuring her, Dominique covered her hand with her own, returning the gentle squeeze with her fingers.
With that, the princess walked off, leaving Dominique alone with the queen. When she turned toward Bronwyn, she immediately braced herself. There was a gleam of malice in the queen’s gaze.
“I’m sure you’re very proud of yourself,” Queen Bronwyn stated, her tone casual as she lifted her glass of wine to her lips. The words weren’t loud enough to be overheard by the people around them, but only just.
Dominique almost huffed out a laugh at that statement. It wasn’t as harsh as she expected, but then again, this was only the first salvo.
“I’m not sure which you’re referring to—my business success or my engagement. In regard to my business, of course I’m proud of myself. I’ve worked very hard to ensure its success. When it comes to your son, I should think it’s more important that I’m proud of him, wouldn’t you?”
The queen blinked, obviously taken aback by Dominique’s statement. She expected to be met with the same veiled vitriol she doled out. Probably because she knew Graciella. While her mother wouldn’t have screamed or thrown a tantrum at such a verbal barb, she would have returned the venomous words with lethal accuracy as she cut her opponent down to size.
Dominique decided long ago not to bother with the toxicity. It wasn’t worth her peace. Considering she would have to deal with Bronwyn for the next decade, hopefully less, she decided to get her bluff in now. If the queen decided that Dominique was impervious to her nastiness, it would discourage her from continuing the behavior. Bronwyn wanted a reaction, and Dominique wasn’t giving it to her.
Then again, if the queen was anything like her son, she would dig deeper and keep trying.
Sure enough, Queen Bronwyn met that expectation. She kept trying. “Surely you don’t think you’ll be able to keep running your little business while you’re married to my son, do you? You’ll be too busy popping out heirs and playing matchmaker to all the pitiful souls in court who can’t find their true mates.”
Dominique raised a brow at Bronwyn, taking a sip of her wine. “Ronan and I haven’t discussed it in detail, but he knows how much my business means to me, so he’s already said he doesn’t expect me to give it up completely.”
At her blasé tone, Dominique could practically hear the queen’s teeth grinding.
That was when Queen Bronwyn decided to stop dancing around and go in for the kill. “You’re not good enough for the throne, no matter what your whore of a mother thinks,” she hissed.
“I don’t want the throne,” Dominique replied, looking Bronwyn in the eye. It took every bit of her willpower to keep her body relaxed, but she managed it. “I only want to marry Ronan. My family has nothing to do with our engagement and, if I have my way, that will continue.”
As soon as she said the words, she knew she’d made a mistake. A calculating gleam appeared in the queen’s eyes, and Dominique had to bite back a curse.
“Surely, you know my mother would try to take over the wedding plans,” Dominique continued, fighting to maintain an even tone. “She does like to get her way, and she would be nothing but ecstatic that one of her daughters was finally getting married. To a prince no less.”
It was a weak attempt at mitigating the damage, but she hoped it would prick at the queen’s pride. She wouldn’t want another woman coming in and trying to commandeer the social event of the year in her kingdom.
The gleam in Queen Bronwyn’s eyes vanished, but Dominique still worried what Ronan’s mother might do with that tidbit of information.
Before she could formulate another strategy to control the damage, a hot hand slipped around her back, around her waist, and pulled her into Ronan’s side. With her hair pinned up, her neck was bare and vulnerable to the kiss he pressed to the skin beneath her ear. Dominique swore his lips left a mark on her flesh because they burned so hot.
“How do you feel about getting married this weekend, darling?” he asked loudly enough for everyone around them to hear.
Before Dominique could formulate a response, like hell no , Aisling let out a happy squeal and came running over.
“It’s the perfect weekend for it!” she exclaimed. “The gardens are still beautiful, and the Autumn Gala is already happening, so most of the people you would want to invite are already here.”
The room burst into action and noise, drowning out anything Dominique might have said. Even if she could have been heard, she wasn’t sure what she would say. Her eyes cast about the room, clashing with the queen’s. At the sight of the calculating gleam in Bronwyn’s eyes and the malevolent smirk on her red lips, Dominique’s blood chilled. It was clear the queen was planning something, and she had no doubt that it would involve the rest of the Proxa family.
God, Dominique wished she could kill Ronan right now. If not kill, at the very least, strangle him for a few minutes. Maybe kick him in the kneecap for good measure.
What in the hell was he playing at, asking her that question for all to hear?
Unfortunately, she wasn’t going to be able to ask him that for at least two hours. They still had to make it through dinner.