Page 2 of Straw and Gold (A Realm of Revelry #2)
Killian
In three days, I’d be married.
If she showed up.
If she didn’t finally get the cold feet I’d been relying on to excuse us both from the contract I’d penned thirteen years ago.
The Ravenfae Princess had written to me thirty times since then, and I’d gotten rid of every letter, sealed and all with the wax stamp of the Brackish Wood.
At what point would she rebel?
At what point would she realize that marrying a complete stranger was…stupid?
I’d gotten what I needed from that betrothal contract and left an escape clause so she could grow up from a mere fifteen years old and easily break it.
Why didn’t she break it?
“You look a bit vexed.”
I turned my attention away from the day’s accounting reports and closed the book. Folding my hands across my chest and leaning back in my leather chair, I sighed.
Fedir continued polishing his blades, laying each one flat on the small table by the fire as he ran his cloth across the sharp metal.
“Marriage is already not agreeing with you,” he continued, shifting his gaze to find me frowning his way.
“She is a foolish, fanciful princess, Fedir. It’s the only explanation for why she is still coming.” I flicked my own blade from my baldric and began to polish away invisible specks.
He chuckled. “She’s already gotten under your skin.” He replaced his blades, adding, “I’m going to enjoy this.”
“You’re going to do what you can in the next three days to get me out of this,” I replied sharply, throwing my dagger across the room. It embedded into the leg of the table with a loud twang .
“Missed, Your Majesty,” he goaded.
“You sure?” I replied, sitting back once more, resting my hands behind my head. “Check the right leg of your breeches, Captain.”
He pulled my knife from the table and inspected his leg, finding the slice across the leather and poking his finger through. “Are you sure you need me to waste my time looking for a way out of this contract? Your precision is better than mine.”
“I’ve been over it so many times,” I admitted, rubbing my face. “ She is the only one who can break it.”
He chuckled, rising and stretching, flinging my knife right back to my desk, impaled in the corner. “Maybe she’ll get one look at you and run.”
“If only I were so lucky,” I grunted, scratching at my overgrown beard.
“Or,” he continued, “maybe she’ll get one look at those luscious red locks and fall to her knees like the rest of them.” He winked and moved to the door.
I glared at his back, stringing my fingers through my long, flaming red waves. I could use a shave. And a haircut.
“Three days left as an unmarried man, Killian,” he called, heading out the door of my study. “If I were you, I’d find some company before I was tied down for the rest of my life.”
“If you were me, Fedir, this castle would have its own brothel.”
I heard his chuckle in the hall as the door swung closed.
In three days, I’d be bound to a wife I’d never met.
In three days, she’d be queen.
I wasn’t sure which I was dreading most.