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“Yes, I’m sure I will hear about my decision to release her before long.” He tosses his crown onto a side chair as if it’s a common hat. “But she was tainted because she was my tributary. How could I execute her for it?”
“You’re the king. You could have, very easily.” He has time and time again. I haven’t been outside the castle walls since I arrived, but I’ve heard the terrible rumors, of the corpses that hang in warning to all. “If it means anything, I am so happy you showed her mercy.” I hesitate. “Thank you, Atticus.”
“If I’m being honest, it was a selfish decision on my part. Now you have someone to help mind those children of yours when you are otherwise indisposed. Especially that mischievous boy.”
“He will have her running through the entire castle before long,” I joke, but his words catch. When I’m otherwise indisposed.
He closes in with measured steps, to collect my hand and study the mark. “It is not as obtrusive as I thought it might be.”
My pulse races. “No, though I imagine it will take some getting used to.”
His thumb strokes over the lines. “Why are you so troubled, Gracen?”
Of course he can read my anxiety. I focus on his lapel. “Because I know why you’ve summoned me here.”
“And you do not wish to give it to me.” It’s a statement, rather than a question.
“It’s not that, it’s just …” My words drift.
“Corrin paid me a visit.”
My eyes widen. “She did?”
He chuckles, but the sound falls off with a serious look. “She told me a few things about your previous keeper. About what he did to you. What he made you do.”
I sigh, feeling my cheeks flush. “I shared those in confidence.”
“She didn’t go into too much detail. But enough. He was cruel.”
“Yes.” A tremble courses through my body. “Danthrin was never gentle, and he always took too much.” Of everything. Of me. “I can’t say how many times I blacked out afterward and was punished for it. The other men he let feed off me were even less gentle.” Silence meets my confession. I dare peer up into those blue eyes, lined with a heavy fringe, to see fury.
“If I had known this before, he never would have walked free.” He reaches up to stroke my cheek with the soft pad of his thumb, pulling away to reveal a dusting of white powder.
I laugh. That’s the second time today I’ve met the king with flour on my cheek. My dress has smears of lard on it. Who knows what the rest of me looks like. Certainly not a groomed and delicate king’s tributary. “Why me?”
His hand finds the underside of my chin and lifts it until I meet his gaze again. “I can feel your pulse, Gracen.” He steps in closer until we are a hair-width apart. “When I stand this close to you, I can feel how your body reacts to me.”
Another wave of embarrassment hits, even as my desire stirs. “Surely you would find that same reaction in any mortal you approach.” Especially any female.
“Yes, most.” His breath skates over my face with his chuckle. “But I don’t want any mortal. You are my choice.”
His blunt declaration stirs every nerve ending in my body. But quickly chasing it is a wave of fear. He’s the king, and he’s been kind to me. If I deny him, will he punish me? But if I say yes, the same worry stirs: Will he change into someone else? Someone to loathe?
I may be his choice, but I have no choice in the matter. I’m fooling myself if I think otherwise. I reach up to unbutton the top of my dress and push the linen past my shoulder. Cool air grazes my bare skin, stirring gooseflesh, as I grant him access.
He takes it immediately, his grip seizing my nape, guiding my head back, exposing my neck to his mouth. His soft lips graze my flesh where my pulse pounds like an invitation, and I brace myself for the sharp pain.
Only it doesn’t come, his featherlight kisses continuing up, along my jawline, over my cheek, until his mouth meets mine. Shivers skitter down my spine as he angles my head, deepening the kiss. I let my lips fall open and his tongue is there in an instant, sliding over mine with teasing strokes that pull a moan from my throat and coax me closer to him, my fingers trailing over his biceps for purchase, the gold threads of his king’s finery lingering beneath my touch.
I’ve never been kissed by anyone like this.
“You may go,” he whispers against my mouth before releasing me and stepping away, his breathing ragged.
“What? But …” My hand fumbles toward my dress, only to discover he already adjusted the collar and refastened the buttons without my notice, while I was so deeply entranced by his mouth. “Have I done something to upset you?”
