Page 50 of Fated to the Wicked King

He had likely been following us this whole time, if not eavesdropping on us altogether.

It wouldn’t do to inflate his already large ego.

“You must still see some good left in him,” Sophie concluded. “I confess I also have that feeling.”

I resisted a knowing smirk.

Either that or she had so very easily fallen under his spell. Again, it wasn’t unexpected. But I was more than eager to change the subject. “Your brother certainly doesn’t think so. Not that I can blame him, of course. The loss of family is a very powerful motivator.”

I was aware it was also something the king knew intimately, but I didn’t want to say anything that might dilute Sophie’s own family’s struggles.

Her gaze softened. “I was much too young to remember when our sister was…killed. My brother is a good man. He is the best man I know. But he blames himself.” She added, almost offhandedly, “And the king, of course.”

Against my better judgment, I couldn’t help interjecting, “If it helps at all, the king was under a very powerful spell at the time. He wasn’t in control of his own actions.”

I wanted to smack my palm against my forehead as soon as the words left my mouth. Why did I constantly feel like defending him?

I shook my head briskly to clear it, attempting yet another change in topic. “May I say I’ve never seen a kingdom like yours?” I offered the princess a warm smile. “It’s truly extraordinary.”

Sophie brightened at once, her shoulders easing down as she returned the smile. “I’m very glad you think so.”

“Perhaps you can tell me the story of how this land used to be,” I suggested. “Before the king, before the Red Queen. What was it like?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Had you not learned about the history of Wünder in your own studies? I must say, I would find it hard to believe if you said you’d had no proper schooling.”

“Oh.” I almost blanked.

I didn’t want to reveal the reason I wasn’t familiar with the history of Wünder. The fact that I carried the king’s mystical heart was odd enough. I didn’t want to have to go into how I wasn’t really from this world at all.

“Well, I—” I racked my brain. “I only wanted to see if the history I was taught in my school would be the same from this side of the river. You know how they say history is written by the victors.”

“That is a very clever saying,” Sophie mused. “Well then, perhaps you can tell me if it’s the same.” She moved to sit down beside the next cot to tend to another injured patient. “From my studies of history, they say all the kingdoms used to be equal. They could function independently of each other. There didn’t use to be one kingdom to rule the land. Surely, there were wars between kingdoms, some small, some larger, but that was the way things were.”

“Seems logical.”

“My father told me stories of His Majesty’s father too. I hear he used to be a friend. He was a wise ruler, a good king.” Her nose scrunched up. “Of course, that was before the Red Queen took over his throne and changed everything.” She leaned toward me. “This part should be more familiar to you, being from the other side.”

“When the Red Queen took over, she manipulated everyone’s memories with magic. Everyone was compelled to do her bidding, and she ruled over the entire land for centuries.” Taking a deep breath, she shook her head ruefully. “I can imagine all the wars and squabbles ceased, but…being a mere puppet to an evil queen, to have no will of your own, that is no way to live.”

“Indeed. And now there is a new threat.” I turned my attention back to my task. “Though I am hopeful that if we work together, we can easily set everything right once again. I would very much like to see this land settled and at peace.”

Before I left, I didn’t add.

Sophie’s smile was all kinds of enthusiastic. “I hope so too.”

Sixteen

STILL MINE

The spacious council chambers held a round table of polished oak, anchoring the room. Afternoon sunlight filtered through tall, narrow windows, spilling in pale gold across maps, scrolls, and the measured stillness of men and women seated in counsel.

I stood, half-hidden by the carved stone arch in the shadow of a doorway, watching the proceedings from the hall. I didn’t want to press my luck in case I wasn’t allowed to watch.

I was curious, of course, but more than that, I needed to find a way to assess other threats. If any of Lucerne’s royal council secretly bore ill will toward Gregory or the king, I was the only one who would be able to tell.

As expected, the king had refused to join the meeting.

Gregory was left to relay the situation to his advisors. Standing at the head of the table, one hand resting against the wood, his posture composed, he spoke assuredly without arrogance.