Page 65 of Wicked Prince of Frost

The king chuckles. “It is nothing to worry yourself over. I wanted to know how you are faring since we last spoke,” he says with fatherly concern.

“I am well, Your Majesty.” I cringe at the way I repeat myself. It makes me sound as though I only know a handful of words.

“Good. Good. Now, for the reason I sent for you, I wanted to make sure you understood why you have not been given the typical luxuries due to someone in your position.”

What else can there be?I have my own palace in the southern court, fine clothes, and the best food.

“I haven’t given it a moment’s thought,” I say honestly. “I have more than I need.”

“Rest assured, it will be remedied once you are presented to the court,” he continues as though I hadn’t spoken. “It should have happened within a few days of your arrival and is long past due. Usually, it falls to the Crown Prince to arrange it, but he has been selfishly keeping you all to himself.” The king smirks, finding humor in his own words that I don’t understand.

“I had no idea,” I say.

Surely, this is not what he wanted to discuss?

“Worry not, I will personally see it taken care of before the month is out. The head seamstress is already hard at work on your gown.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I am honored.”

He shifts closer, almost intimately close. His eyes darken. “Our Crown Prince is quite fond of you.”

I frown at the casual turn in conversation. An oddsensation prickles along the back of my neck. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

A wave of dizziness slips over me, and my pulse picks up. I feel like I am going to be sick. I am one wrong move away from offending the king in an unforgivable way by being sick all over his shoes.

“Our prince has rarely spent time with any of his previous wives, yet I have it on good authority that you are often seen in his presence.”

He reaffirms what Joon said during dinner the night we arrived at the palace—that we are constantly being monitored.

It doesn’t seem too unusual for random servants to report the happenings of the palace to the king, especially anything that could be deemed out of the ordinary.

If I lie and he notices, there’s no telling what the consequences will be. Against my better judgment, the urge to explain is overwhelming.

Tingling prickles lodge in my throat in warning. I try to swallow it down, but it’s no use. The power of the bargain settles, ready to silence any words that might give it away.

I’m at a loss.

“So, by your silence, may I assume you have come to the same conclusion?”

Though I’m not entirely sure how that could be a bad thing, I am left with the nagging sensation that it will only complicate matters. My heart squeezes, sending a sharp ache radiating through my chest.

Demons, no… please, not now.

“I am afraid I don’t know him well enough to understand his feelings one way or another, Your Majesty.” I focus on smothering the telltale signs of an impending episode.

He nods. “That is understandable.”

“I only wish to do what is required of me,” I offer as a platitude.

“You may be my favorite one yet,” he murmurs so only I can hear. The rapid thudding of my heart against my ribs makes the soothing tones of his voice into something ominous.

My nerves are completely frayed. Earlier, I could dismiss it as anxiety over the possibility of unintentionally insulting the crown. But now there’s little chance of quelling the impending episode.

Demons and saints, I need to get out of here.

My episodes have never come on so fast, over such a small amount of stress. My heart won’t last much longer if this is all it takes.

I cannot die yet. We have to break the curse.