Page 142 of Crown of the Courtesan

They study me as if they’re hoarding currency to dole out to the gossipmongers. Temples throbbing, I try to reposition my circlet but sway precariously on my feet.

“Almost over.” Rett swoops down and kisses my forehead. “Would you like for me to escort you back to your chambers?”

“I think that would be for the best,” I agree. “It’s getting late.” The crowds have thinned, and Valora is nowhere to be seen.

The empress makes a motion to the harpy, who flies to the announcement balcony with a brass instrument. He blows his horn, bringing an end to the evening. Rett positions me by his mother. After a line of farewells and best wishes from the departing nobles, we are left alone with only the maids.

Erah removes her crown and scratches her scalp. “The marriage vows are at dawn. Don’t be late.” She passes the headpiece to an attendant as if she’s relieved to be rid of it.

I nod, struggling to stand upright. Overcome by dizziness, I cling to Rett’s arm. Erah departs with a cluck of her disapproving tongue while several attendants trail close behind.

“I’m sorry. The late nights here can be a tad much if you aren’t used to it,” he says as he lifts me off my feet, cradling me in his arms before I can protest. “Let me make it up to you.” It’s useless to fight it.

I try to relax as he carries me through the corridors, but I can’t stop thinking about the ship sailing across the harbor. My heart hammers with his every step. A gnawing in my stomach that won’t go away⁠—

A guard jumps aside as Rett nudges the door open, but we aren’t in my guest chambers. He’s finally taken me to his own royal quarters—a place he never had time to show me.

A masculine energy is present in the lines of the sleek wooden bed decorated with rust-colored linens. Fire crackles in the hearth. The late-night air is cool, and something delicious from below wafts through the balcony doors.

He tosses me on the mattress, just like he threw me in the spring. “You look best when you’re lying in my bed,” he remarks, taking off his clothes.

I roll over and sit up, scooting away from his reach. But there’s something I can’t help but ask, “What is that smell?” The scent is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before—fragrant herbs, roasting meats, and baked desserts.

“You must be smelling our wedding feast for tomorrow. We’re directly over the kitchens.” He chuckles as if he’s remembering something. “Being sent to my chambers without dinner used to be torture as a small boy.” His brow furrows when I don’t respond. “Is there something else bothering you?”

Still on his bed, I rise to my knees to look at him better.

He takes my hands to steady me, and I answer, “Actually, yes. There is. It’s about what’s happening in Alexandria.”

He pulls my gloves off and absentmindedly twists the betrothal ring on my finger. “This again?” he asks.

My stomach pinches. “I must coordinate with the generals—or even the lieutenants and captains—on the strategy. I don’t want to sign off on plans I don’t fully understand. There may be a time when they come back to haunt me. I’ve had enough of that. So I need you to tell me right now, right here, that I’m going to be allowed into those meetings.”

“Whoa—whoa. Slow down.”

I yank my hand away. “No. Quit telling me to slow down—to be patient.”

“It’s been a long night. All of this can wait until tomorrow,” he says, yawning and stretching.

“But you just asked me if anything was wrong.”

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted to strategize at three in the morning,” he hedges. “I thought you had a problem we could quickly solve.”

“I need your assurances that these things will take place. That you’ll include me in the decision-making once we’re married.”

“I’m lucky my mother even allows me to listen in.”

“But you said⁠—”

“I know you don’t like hearing it, but you must be more patient. When we’re married, she’ll come around… and when we provide her grandchildren and heirs, we won’t be denied anything ever again.”

The memory of Valora’s words settles under my skin, making a desolate home.

She’s right.

Everything she warned me of—so fucking right.

What good would trading myself in marriage be if I’m no longer his equal? I envision a future of long fights and power struggles, with Erah at the center.