Page 19 of Fae-King It (Mystical Matchmakers #5)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dominique woke to a brightly lit bedchamber and an empty bed. Well, empty save for her.

She sat up, realizing that the light filling the room was from the window. Her head throbbed slightly at the movement, making her groan and lift a hand to her forehead.

Why had she drunk all that nightwine?

One glass made her tipsy. Two made her drunk.

Moving slowly, Dominique shifted her weight to the edge of the bed and tossed back the blankets. She looked down and realized she was still wearing her robe, but someone had removed her strapless bra and draped it across the back of the sofa. She squinted at it, trying to remember if she’d been the one to remove it or if Ronan had, but nothing came to her.

Good grief, she knew better than to drink pixie moonshine. It always went straight to her head. Even a single glass. Her fuzzy memory told her that she consumed two glasses. Well, one and a half, but that was more than enough.

To her surprise, her stomach was calmer than she would expect after getting drunk off nightwine. She put a hand on the nightstand to push herself to her feet, when the crinkle of paper caught her attention.

Dominique glanced down and saw the sheet of paper folded in half with her name written on it.

She picked it up, studying the spiky, messy script. She’d never seen Ronan’s handwriting before, but she had no doubt this was it. It had the same bold, arrogant appearance as the prince himself.

Dominique couldn’t help squinting as she unfolded the paper to read it. The sunlight reflected off the white surface, making her dry eyes burn.

Princess,

There’s tea and breakfast for you on the table by the couch. Jessel talked one of the pixies in the kitchen into making you a hangover remedy. I had to beg for mine myself, like a pauper. Clearly, she likes you more than me.

Your wedding dress is in the closet.

I’ll see you in the gardens at noon for the ceremony.

Your Prince

Dominique wanted to smile at what he wrote, wanted to believe that these words were written to her from a man who loved her. But reality intruded.

If she ignored the fact that he called her Princess and signed it Your Prince , Dominique had to admit that it seemed friendly. Nothing more.

With a sigh, she got to her feet and sent in search of tea and breakfast. When she saw the clock, she winced. She didn’t have much time to get ready and she had no one to help her.

She walked over to the side table and found a covered tray. When she lifted the lid, a small cloud of steam escaped. It had been spelled to keep her food warm. Appreciative, Dominique saw a little glass bottle with a cork stopper next to the teacup. There was a sticky note attached, once again written in Ronan’s scrawled hand.

Take this first. It’ll make you feel better.

Confused, Dominique did as the note said, removing the stopper from the bottle. A whiff of the contents smelled pleasant, like berries and pomegranate. With a shrug, she lifted the bottle to her mouth and drained it quickly, hoping it tasted as nice as it smelled.

The sweet concoction flowed easily down her throat, leaving a pleasant sensation behind, as though she were drinking champagne. Within seconds, the dull ache in her head faded and her eyes felt less scratchy. By the time she finished pouring her first cup of tea, Dominique felt normal.

She was just about to take a sip when someone knocked at the door. Lowering the cup, she stared at it, torn. Ronan made it clear that she wasn’t supposed to answer the door for anyone, but that was when her parents were in the castle. They were gone now, so surely the threat was gone as well.

Another knock, this one louder, got her feet moving.

“Who is it?” she called.

“Your evil sister-in-law!”

A smile spread across Dominique’s face at Aisling’s cheerful words. She didn’t care if Ronan would be upset, she was opening the door for the princess. She needed a dose of Aisling’s biting humor. It would distract her from what she needed to do today.

Still carrying her teacup, Dominique strode to the door and opened it. Aisling’s bright, smiling face greeted her.

“Good morning to my favorite sister-in-law,” the princess said.

“Good morning to my favorite sister-in-law,” Dominique replied, stepping back to allow Aisling to enter.

“I see you’re having a bit of a lie-in today,” Aisling observed as she stepped inside, closely followed by another woman who appeared to be a maid based on her dress.

The four guards that followed Aisling shifted quickly, no doubt remembering how she’d locked them out of Dominique’s room the day before. Two remained in the hall and the other two nudged Aisling and the maid to the side.

“Your Highness, you know we need to check the room.”

Aisling sighed, rolling her eyes, but didn’t argue. While Dominique could understand the princess’s exasperation, she was glad the guards were insisting on doing their job. If her parents could have come up with a plan to assassinate the king and queen, others could have machinations of their own to kill or kidnap the princess.

Once the two guards were done, one of them went out into the hall and the other planted himself by the door, his hands folded in front of him.

“Seriously, Zane?” Aisling said.

The guard shrugged. “You know the rules. You ignored them last time, so now we do what we have to.”

“Well, the rules suck and I’m changing them as soon as I get a chance.”

Dominique saw the smirk that tugged at the guard’s mouth and her magic shifted, sensing a potential match. Actually, her magic had reacted as soon as she saw Aisling with all four guards. She wondered if Zane was the only potential match among them.

“Now, let’s get you fed, and Bettina will help you with your hair and make-up. She’s one of the best in the realm, a true artist.”

Bettina blushed at the praise and looked down at the floor. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“I’m glad you both came,” Dominique said. “Because I was just wondering what I was going to do with my hair.”

Aisling rubbed her hands together. “Let me see how the dress turned out and we’ll decide.”

Smiling, Dominique sipped her tea as she led them to the closet. Maybe today wouldn’t be as painful as she feared.

Two hours later, Dominique was ready. Well, maybe not ready, but her hair and makeup were done, and the dress clung to her body. Her heart and mind, however, were a damned mess.

“I brought the tiara I wore to my first event as the princess,” Aisling said, breaking through Dominique’s growing haze of panic. “It will go perfectly with the hairstyle Bettina gave you!”

Bettina had curled Dominique’s hair and gathered half of it up at the crown of her head, pinning it so a waterfall of curls seemed to cascade from the top of her head and down her back. It left her face and chest on display, which Dominique found nearly distressing.

This weekend had affected her cloak of indifference. She was finding it more and more difficult to pull on as each hour passed. She wasn’t sure how she would get through the ceremony without it.

Aisling brought the delicate tiara out of her bag. It was made to resemble a crown of violets. Each stem was made of either gold or silver. The flowers themselves were made of the same precious metals, but tiny amethysts or opals were set in the center of each one. The white and lavender opals resembled the iridescent overdress she wore, shimmering with a rainbow of colors.

“Aisling, I shouldn’t—” Dominique began.

“You absolutely should, and you will,” the princess argued. She came closer and set the tiara on Dominique’s head, shifting it back so the ends slipped into the curls pinned at the crown of her skull. Then, she stepped back and studied the placement. “I think that’s perfect. What do you think, Bettina?”

Though the maid was soft spoken, Dominique quickly discovered she had an extremely discerning eye and wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion, though usually at a volume that was more like a whisper.

“It’s perfect,” Bettina breathed.

“I agree,” Aisling said. She waved her hands at Dominique. “Turn around and take a look.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Dominique turned toward the mirrors behind her. Aisling hadn’t allowed her to look before now, and when her eyes landed on the glass, her throat grew tight.

She looked exactly like a fae bride should look on her wedding day. The dress skimmed over her body, highlighting every dip and curve. Her hair gleamed in the sunlight, the tiara sparkling madly among the curls. And her makeup was dewy and light, bringing attention to her best features and minimizing her weakest.

It hit her then, what she was about to do. She was about to marry a man she loved, a man that didn’t love her in return. They would be tied together for at least the next seven or eight years at least.

If she did this, she would only fall deeper in love with him. Which meant when he cast her aside, that the pain would only be worse as time went on. She could see it now—the end of their time together—when he came to tell her that he was done, and it was time for them to go their separate ways.

The phantom stab of pain in her chest nearly stole the breath from her lungs and she knew. She knew that she would die when that day came. Not all at once. No, she would just wither away into nothing before his eyes.

And she couldn’t do that. As much as she cared about him. As much as she wished he loved her in return. She couldn’t live with him day after day and survive when he ended it.

“Well?” Aisling asked, distracting her from her heavy thoughts. “What do you think?”

With a shaking hand, Dominique touched her cheek. “I look like a fae bride,” she murmured, repeating her first thought. “You two did a beautiful job.”

Perceptive as ever, Aisling asked Bettina to give them a few moments, and the maid left the room, then princess turned to Dominique. “My brother is a difficult man to know,” she began. “But I can see that he cares about you.” She paused, obviously choosing her words carefully. “And I can see that you care about him. But if you don’t want to do this, I will help you escape this castle right now. Your family is no longer a factor in whether or not you marry my brother. You’ll be safe if you don’t go through with this. I’ll be safe if you don’t go through with this. I know what my parents have planned, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be able to see it through.”

Dominique straightened her shoulders, turning toward Aisling. Though her instinct was to reach for her ice queen persona, she left her to the side for now. Instead, she met the eyes of a strong young woman and said, “I won’t run away like a coward. This is something I need to discuss with your brother, face-to-face. Can you make that happen?”

Aisling studied her face and nodded.

“Good. Then, let’s go find him.”

The princess raised a hand. “First, I need to give you something to wear for the ceremony if you choose to go through with it.”

Dominique wanted to tell her not to bother, but the younger woman was already turning toward the couch, where she’d left a cloth sack earlier. With gentle hands, she opened the bag and removed a sheathed short sword. The scabbard and hilt were decorated with jewels and precious metals, but the hammered gold had a patina that spoke of age, even though it still shimmered in the sunlight.

“This is the ceremonial sword of my family. I removed it from the royal vaults this morning because I knew Ronan wouldn’t think of it. I want you to wear it for the ceremony.”

Emotion swelled in Dominique’s chest, preventing her from speaking as the princess came closer and threaded the bejeweled sword belt low around her waist. Though fae women were no longer warriors, the sword was a throwback to the ancient times when they fought by their mate’s side. Ancient fae women had been as fierce as their male counterparts on the battlefield.

“There,” Aisling said, stepping back and looking Dominique over. “It looks like it was made for you.”

Swallowing hard, Dominique said the only thing she could. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the princess said simply. “Now, let’s go find my brother.”

Ten minutes later, Aisling stashed Dominique in a small informal drawing room near the back of the castle. It was close to the exit leading to the palace gardens, where Ronan and the wedding guests would be waiting for her. For them.

Dominique clasped her hands together, squeezing her fingers tightly, as she paced back and forth across the carpet. She wanted to lie, to give Ronan another reason they couldn’t go through with this wedding, but she couldn’t. She had to tell him the truth, even if it would hurt to see the disgust on his face. Or worse, relief.

She heard the knob on the door turn and froze. She straightened her spine, lowering her hands to her sides, her fingertips brushing the small ceremonial sword belted around her hips, as the door swung open, revealing Ronan. He wore a formal suit, the type a fae man wore for a ball. Or his wedding.

He looked…beautiful. The navy fabric of his coat brought out the bright blue of his eyes and emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. Tan pants clung to his thighs and were tucked into knee-high brown boots. He looked as though he could have stepped out of a historical romance novel. And just like the heroine in a book like that, Dominique’s heart started to race at the sight of him.

Ronan stopped in the doorway, his eyes moving over her from head to toe. “You look—” He stopped speaking and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. “You look perfect.”

Dominique took a deep breath, her fingertips lightly pinching the silky material of her overdress. She still hadn’t figured out what she wanted to say but it was too late now. He was here. She was going to have to spit it out.

Ronan finally seemed to take in the expression on her face. He strode across the room, stopping just in front of her and grasping her biceps with his hands. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did your parents come back?”

Dominique shook her head. Her throat closed at the concern on his face. He appeared as if he cared about her.

“No, no. It’s not that,” she said.

“Did my mother or father do something? Say something?” he asked, his hands tightening on her arms.

“No,” she answered, her voice stronger this time.

“Then, what has this look on your face, Princess?”

Dominique took a step back, forcing Ronan to release her arms or move with her. He released her arms, but he stayed close. “I can’t do this,” she said. “I can’t marry you.”

He scowled at her. “Why the hell not?”

She tried to take another step back, needing some distance between them, but Ronan caught her elbows in his hands, yanking her closer.

“Answer me,” he demanded. “After I—” He paused, gathering his thoughts. His hands gentled on her arms, but he didn’t release her. “If you’re still worried about what your family might do, don’t be. They’ve already been taken into custody.”

Dominique shook her head, the news that Graciella and Jurgen were no longer roaming free barely making a dent in the chaotic thoughts in her mind. “It’s not that.”

“Then, what?”

“I—” Dominique shut her mouth. She couldn’t say it. Not when she knew what his reaction would be.

Ronan shook her gently, forcing her to look at him. “You waited until the very last moment to make this decision. I think I deserve an answer.”

“I can’t marry you because I love you!” she cried.

His hands loosened on her arms, falling to his sides, as he stared at her. “What?”

Dominique took a step back and gave into the urge to pace. She walked back and forth across the carpet, five steps each way. “You wanted to marry me because you knew I wouldn’t fall in love with you and make your life difficult when it was time for us to separate. But I did fall in love with you. And if I marry you, I know down in my bones that I’ll die when you set me aside. I’m not exaggerating or trying to gain your sympathy. I just know I’d fade away into nothingness if you left me after years together.”

Dominique couldn’t force herself to look at him. She couldn’t bear to see whatever might be in his face.

She took five steps, turned, and started to take another step but she slammed into a hard body. Hands grabbed her by her shoulders, one sliding down to the base of her spine. The other cupped her chin, forcing her to lift it. To look him in the eye.

Her breath caught when they’re gazes met. He didn’t look disgusted. Or angry. Or even relieved.

He looked…happy.

“Let me get this straight—you don’t want to marry me because you love me?” he asked.

Dominique nodded. “Because I know you’ll never love me in return. I can’t live like that, Ronan.” Now that she got the words out, she couldn’t stop. They poured from her.

He stared at her, his gaze so intense that she could almost hear his brain humming with thoughts. She opened her mouth to tell him she was sorry, but he leaned down and swept one arm behind her knees, the other still wrapped around her back.

Dominique shrieked, clinging to his neck as he bounced her into a better position. “What are you doing?” she cried.

“Your little confession changes nothing. We’re still getting married,” he stated, marching toward the door.

“Ronan, stop! Put me down!”

When he reached for the knob, she stuck a foot out and planted it against the door, keeping him from opening it.

Was it completely undignified? Absolutely. But it was still less humiliating than him hauling her out to the gardens like this.

With a grunt of frustration, Ronan lowered her legs but kept his grip on her upper body. He backed her into the door, leaning his heavy weight against her. “You’re not getting out of our bargain, Princess. As I said, you loving me changes nothing. And everything.”

“What do you mean?”

His face was so close to hers that all she could see were his eyes. Those bright blue eyes that seemed to see straight into her soul. She tried to turn her face away, but he gripped her jaw, holding her still. Finally, Dominique stopped struggling and just closed her eyes, shutting him out. She couldn’t stand there and look at him any longer. She needed distance, even if only in her mind.

“Do you know why you’re still going to marry me today, Princess?” he asked, his lips brushing her ear as he leaned even closer.

She made a soft noise in her throat. She couldn’t speak, not when he surrounded her so completely.

“You’re going to marry me because I love you, too. And now that I know you feel the same, I’m never letting you go. Goddess knows I don’t deserve your love, not after the way I treated you, but I’m a selfish bastard, so I’ll take it anyway.” He buried his face against her bare throat. “You’ll marry me today and never leave my side again. And I’ll spend the next lifetime showing you that you made the right choice. I swear it.”

Dominique’s heart thumped so hard in her chest that she wondered if he could feel it. He was telling her all the things she wanted so desperately to hear, but she was afraid to believe it.

“Ronan, I?—”

He lifted his head, his face only an inch or two from hers. “Please give me a chance to make it right, Princess. I know I’ve been an ass, and I will always regret that I said and did things that hurt you. All I can do right now is beg you to forgive me and vow to never hurt you again. Not intentionally.”

Dominique stared into his eyes, unable to believe what she was hearing. Could she be hallucinating?

“You’re not hallucinating, Princess,” he said.

Dominique shut her mouth with a snap. She hadn’t meant to say that.

“Please don’t walk away from me now,” he said. “I am so sorry for how this all started, but I’m not sorry that it brought me to you again. I think I fell in love with you when I was thirteen, before Zephira ever cursed us, because I never forgot about you. Not in all these years.”

Dominique wasn’t sure she could trust what she was hearing. Could pixie hangover remedies cause delusions?

“Please say you’ll marry me,” he demanded, pressing her harder into the door.

“I’ll—” Dominique’s voice broke, her throat still tight and aching from the tears fighting their way through her chest. “I’ll marry you.”

That was when she saw the relief she imagined earlier—not because she was ending this farce of an engagement, but because she was agreeing go through with the ceremony.

Ronan didn’t wait for her to say anything else. He grabbed her hand, opened the door, and dragged her out of the palace and into the royal gardens where the wedding guests and officiant awaited them.