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Opal
I remained in my rooms the next day, unsure how to proceed or if I even had what it took to see this insane idea through.
There was no other way.
Yet as I’d sat upon the bed, arrows and circles of light spilling in from between the vines and branches concealing most of the windows, I’d contemplated what I’d been about to ask the king the previous day.
When I’d told him to wait.
I had been hopeful he’d walk right back to me, and then I could kiss him, but I should’ve known before the word left my mouth and his razor-sharp eyes had met mine over his broad shoulder that it wouldn’t be that simple.
He wouldn’t have believed it. Not now. Not yet.
A book was splayed over my lap, nursery rhymes from the mortal lands, and a handful of grapes entering my mouth, when a brief bang on the door echoed, and he sauntered in.
Swallowing, I closed the book and set it atop the small pile next to the bowl of fruit on the nightstand. “Do you always just enter rooms without permission?” I inwardly winced. Idiot. I was such a stars-damned idiot. All my life, I’d harnessed the skill of biting my tongue, but around him, the one creature I had to, I failed to protect myself in that way.
Dade pursed his lips in mock thought, leaning against the door. “Well, yes.” A grin, magnificent and eye-reaching, made my stomach jerk. “I am the king, after all.”
I read the words his waning smile delivered… And it would be wise to remember that.
“I did knock.” He sighed then said a moment later, “Take a walk with me.” A gentle offer I could not refuse.
I still tried, for that was what he’d surely expect. “I’d rather not.”
His breathy laughter was talons and heat, a soft threat that grazed the skin. “Your lies are sweet, truly. But I’ve got time. I’ll wait as you feed me some more.”
Wanting my eyes off him, I peered down at my lavender gown. Simple, versatile, and laced around every edge in white, it fell from the tops of my breasts to my ankles easily as though it were a nightgown.
It was one of my new favorites, but too plain if I hoped to seduce a king. “Fine,” I said, and his brows rose as I did from the bed. “But let me change first.”
Expecting him to leave and allow me some privacy to do just that, I crossed the room to the closed door on the same wall as the bathing chamber.
Inside it, rows of gowns for varying occasions hung in peaches, creams, lilacs, blues, emeralds, whites, and lemons. A studded sitting chair was perched in the corner, an ornate silver table beside it, so one could sit and eat or drink as whomever used this room decided on which article of clothing to wear.
The cloaks were velvet, silk, and thick wool. The nightwear was tasteful, even if some of the lace concoctions left nearly nothing to the imagination. I wasn’t sure I’d ever dig deep enough to find the courage for some of those.
My fingers fell upon a white dress with a heavy underskirt. Its bodice hung low enough to tempt but not enough to sully.
“Do you like them?” The king’s voice came from behind, and my hand flew to my chest.
He stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden trim with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I picked the colors.” His gaze left the garments and draped over me like a cool breeze in the midst of a hard summer. “The colors I thought would best suit your skin tone, your hair…” He blinked once, his eyes finding mine. “And your eyes.”
Words evaporated from my mind.
Every single one.
I stood there, fingers falling slack to my side as the king’s eyes left mine to slowly roam over my face. They sat on my lips for a paused moment, long enough for me to remember the airless weight of his own upon them, and then swept down my body. “Leave that one on.”
Words returned in a rush, spi
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Dade backed out of the dressing room and into the bedchamber. “Let’s go.”
Unable and unwilling to argue, because I was fond of the dress myself and also because it felt as though something had snuck inside my brain and mixed everything into an unrecognizable mess, I followed him silently out into the hall.
We rounded the staircase and followed the quiet all the way to the bottom. In the foyer, the king stopped and turned to me so suddenly, I nearly crashed into his chest. He steadied me with strong hands upon my shoulders. I told myself not to recoil and to stand still while I gazed up into those cerulean eyes. “Would you like some tea before we go?”
His hands slowly slid down my arms, leaving chills in their wake. “Tea?” I asked, perplexed enough to scrunch my brows. “I thought we were taking a walk.”
The king’s jaw flexed, and he nodded as if to himself. “Right. Yes, of course.” Taking my hand, he led me through the grand foyer, through those formidable arched doors, and out onto a beige stone landing that curved with the three steps beneath it.
I slowed, the king forced to do the same, and turned to stare back up at what had been my prison this past week. Shadow Keep was indeed a palace, its gigantic exterior rising higher than my eyes could reach from our angle. Black stone intermingled with off-white slabs of concrete, creating a monstrosity most might consider abandoned if they didn’t know any better.
Leafy vines, thorn-ridden and out of control, covered more than just the windows of my chambers. They curled over every available space, making the stone almost invisible beneath, light and dark peeking through in small patches. The doors before us, and the statues of wolven beasts with wings high up on the ledges of the rooftops, were all that seemed unscathed. Though moss crawled over the centuries-old sentinels’ heads and bodies, the stone cracked in some places, the monstrous spread of greenery and thorns had merely curled and woven around them.
“A trunk of gold coin for your thoughts?”
“It’s… beautiful,” I heard myself admit, transfixed. “And nothing like you would expect.”
“It is a deterrent, yes, but I mostly just prefer people not to think I live in a shiny palace with all the glitz and frills.”
I turned to the king, laughing a little. “But it is just that inside.”
Dade winked—my stomach kicked—and then collected my hand again. “Many don’t know that.” Taking the steps down to the fountain, another winged beast at its center, water spraying from its open maw, the king added, “And we do not have all the pomp…” He flicked his free hand. “The paintings, trinkets, vases. I removed most of it.”
I watched the moss deepen in color as we neared the edge of the square fountain’s low wall, watched it slither and writhe as though begging someone to touch the sun-warmed ledge. I didn’t, knowing a trick when I saw one. Such moss was grown with enchantments to snatch at the limbs and clothing of unwanted guests. “Why?”
“Less work for the staff. All that dusting must be rather tiresome.” I made a face, and he noticed, for he said, “You think I’m joking?”
“Most certainly.”
A shocked, quick bark of laughter. “Fine. It reminded me of my parents, of those I never knew, and I couldn’t stand it.”
The desire to ask more about them thickened my tongue. We avoided the road leading away from the Keep toward the river through the trees and veered down a stone path. Hedges, dotted with blood-red and snow-white roses, sat perfectly trimmed on either side of us.