Page 83 of The Ever King

“Such a well-behaved princess,” he said, voice low.

I forced a grin. No doubt it looked more like a grimace. Erik kept a possessive hold on my hand; his body was stiff, rigid. The thrum of nerves pounded in my skull. He tried to hide it, but there was unease written in every sharp angle of his face.

If the Ever King was unsettled walking into his own palace, what horrors awaited me?

CHAPTER29

The Songbird

The outer walls of the palace glittered with pale stones, but the inner corridors were ominous and dark. Black satin drapes were drawn over open windows, hiding away sunlight. The faintest glimmer of the dawn spread over the wood floors when the breeze caught the fabric. I slowed my step to look at one window. The satin rippled in a way reminiscent of a gentle sea. I thought it a coincidence until I breathed in the scent of the threads—wet sand and brine.

Erik pinched the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, stroking it gently. “Like your land gives to you, the sea gives to us.”

“These come from the sea?”

“A vine found in the lagoons. Spun into threads that trap heat during the frosts and cool during the warmer months.”

Without a chance to allow for more questions, the king dragged us forward. Rafters arched gently, and from each apex hung iron chandeliers with two dozen tallow candles. An occasional servant would pass us after stepping from one of the many rooms. The sight of Erik always drew a widened expression, one of fright, as though they could not wait until they were out of his presence.

We entered an expansive hall. On either side a new corridor branched off to some unseen place in the palace. Awaiting us in the center was a crowd of men in sharp gambesons or high-collared shirts and ladies in gowns frosted in jade or silver.

The king didn’t bring fear to these people. He brought competition. All eyes turned to Erik and his procession. While they looked as if their hands had never touched a grain of dirt, the king was travel worn, tousled, and wild, like his Ever Sea.

Still, every man seemed to seek Bloodsinger’s notice. Every lady whispered to the one at her side, snickering or flushing.

But for one. A woman, flanked by two docile ladies with hair like seaweed on either side, floated toward the king.

Her skin was the color of morning cream, and soft, golden curls flowed down her back to her slender waist. She was delicate and airy, like a thin piece of glass. The corner of her red painted lips tweaked into a coy grin as she lowered her chin in a nod. One to acknowledge her king’s rank, but not one that would ever lower her own.

“Welcome back, My Lord.”

Erik paused. He took half a step to one side, a step that placed him in front of me. “Fione.”

Fione laced her fingers in front of her body, smiling sweetly. “You have been missed.”

Someone snorted. I didn’t look, but I took a guess that Celine had joined the procession.

Erik scoffed and drew closer to the woman. She didn’t step back, and let her body press against his, and an unwelcome flash of annoyance lined my insides.

The king cocked his head, taking her in, tearing her apart with his scrutiny. Gods, were they lovers? The way she looked ready to devour him left me pleading with the cracks in the stone floor to widen and swallow me whole.

Memories of his tempting fingers sliding between my legs, the barest touch against my center, the way he’d tormented my breasts, histongue, gods, it all had me aching in shame.

To add on the fact he might have a woman loyally awaiting his return brought bile to my throat.

Erik didn’t kiss her; he didn’t even touch her. After a tenuous gaze, he merely clicked his tongue and said, “Pleasure seeing you, Fione.”

In two steps, Bloodsinger was back at my side, his grip on my arm. For the first time, the glass woman took note of the unfamiliar face in the room. Her pale eyes narrowed sharply on the place where Erik touched my skin, then to my face.

“Who is this, My King?”

“Mine,” was all he said before he led us to the furthest corridor.

“Will we see you at the feast?” Fione called out.

Erik turned, the handsome curve of his mouth dimpled his cheek. “Unfortunately, I am told I must attend.”

“Perhaps I might have the honor of sitting near his Highness.”