Page 28 of Fated to the Wicked King

“Oh. Of course.”

The king didn’t seem to be willing to discuss it in more detail.

I refused to be deterred. My mind was already working through other potential solutions, reviewing past symptoms and manifestations for clues. I tried to recall anything the Duchess had mentioned about the intricacies of these mystical hearts and how they differed from others.

“Do you suppose that because of the remaining magic, that is why I can instead feel what others feel? It certainly never happened before I returned to the castle. It is quite puzzling.”

“If I am sure of anything at all, it is that you will figure it out.” His tone carried a hint of amusement. I thought I caught him staring at me, as if he could see the gears spinning in my head himself.

I was too engrossed in my own musings that I didn’t realize that we’d walked through the castle and arrived at my quarters.

The king opened the door and let himself through first.

“Oh.” I blinked, snapping to attention.

He cast his eyes around as if surveying the acceptability of the room. He gestured toward the mantel. “This fireplace is enchanted to detect when the temperature drops and turn on by itself.”

“Yes, I did notice that.”

Walking across the room, he looked out the window for a few moments, assessing the view of the darkening skies, before pulling the curtains shut. “So the room is suitable enough.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Passing the table, his eyes flicked toward the food, still untouched, but he made no comment. He stopped at the foot of the bed. “What about this?”

My eyebrows rose expectantly. “What about it?”

“Is it comfortable?”

In truth, I hadn’t lain on it for more than a few minutes since arriving here. “Yes,” I lied. I stopped short when I realized he must have also noticed that the covers hadn’t been turned down at all, the pillows pristine, set against the polished wooden frame.

For an awkward moment, I worried if he considered it an offense if I appeared ungrateful for the luxuries he had provided in exchange for my services.

I should have known that ought to have been the least of my worries.

His presence against my back made me gasp.

“What…”

His voice was deep, rough. “It’s time for bed, Allie.”

Without another word, his nimble fingers started working down the buttons on the back of my dress.

“Your Majesty⁠—”

“Sshh…”

The protest died on my lips. Perhaps I should have been scared, but the warmth of him was a soothing balm. That mesmerizing scent of cedarwood and clean musk, the sound of his breathing, were all too familiar.

Did this mean the man I knew was still somewhere in there? I was at odds with myself about whether I ought to say something to try to draw him out. Perhaps he had already changed too much. Perhaps it was too late for us to go back. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away.

The dress slid off my shoulders, my skin pebbling at the slight draft once I stood wearing only my shift. Heart pounding, my breath caught in my throat when the king tugged on the hairpin holding my hair up.

“What are you doing?”

His breath tickled the side of my neck. “I’m going to tuck you in.”

A flush of heat spread through me, but I didn’t dare glance backward. I was afraid to look at his face, to see what was in his eyes. More like, I was afraid to see the same cold darkness in those eyes. Afraid to confirm that perhaps despite all this, it still meant nothing. He still felt nothing.