Page 60 of Cursed By Gold

I sense genuine anger simmering beneath his controlled exterior.

"Greystone is only a temporary annoyance," I reply dismissively, though my skin still crawls recalling his unwanted proximity. "I assure you, I can handle him."

King Remme's intense stare seems to peer directly into my soul, seeing past the nonchalance I try to project. His jaw clenches and shoulders tense, as if holding himself back from acting on some sudden impulse. When he speaks again, his voice resonates with quiet authority.

"I promise you, Greystone will learn the cost of mistreating someone under my protection."

His bold words hang heavy between us. I feel both thrilled and unsettled. Is the king saying I’m under his protection? Does he mean as a participant in the trials? Why do I have a part of me that hopes it more?

The king crosses the room and retrieves a small wooden box from a shelf. I notice the gilded scrollwork matches the designs on his armor.

He places the box on the table and lifts the lid, revealing a colorful deck of cards illustrated with mystical symbols. "Perhaps a reading can offer guidance to face the challenges ahead?" he suggests, quirking a conspiratorial eyebrow at me.

I tilt my head, intrigued by this unexpected development. "You read tarot cards?"

"A private hobby of mine," Remme admits with a roguish grin, shuffling the stack of cards. "I find the artwork fascinating, even if I don't fully grasp the arcane meanings."

I laugh at his candid admission - trust the king to dabble purely for the aesthetic appeal. I take another sip of wine, eyeing him over the crystal rim with interest. "Well then, reveal my future, oh wise magician. What secrets lie ahead for this lowly subject?"

He places the shuffled deck on the table and begins deliberately turning over cards, studying each colorful illustration intently.

"Let's see what guidance the cards offer for the path ahead," he says, eyes glinting with mischief.

He flips over the first card to reveal a gruesome image of a stabbed figure. "Ah, the Ten of Swords. A painful betrayal by someone trusted," King Remme explains, tracing the bloody sword hilts with one finger. "A wound cut deep to your core."

I lean back in my chair, eyebrow raised skeptically. "Or maybe just a bad night at the theater."

His lips twitch, suppressing a grin before schooling his features again. He turns over the next card depicting a bountiful harvest.

"The Seven of Pentacles - patience and perseverance finally rewarded with prosperity." His gaze flicks meaningfully to my cleavage. "Fulfillment in all aspects of life's bounty."

“My eyes are up here your highness,” I tease.

His throat bobs as he turns over another card—the Two of Cups.

"A profound spiritual and physical bond between two souls," he declares, arching a suggestive brow. "Blended together in...sacred carnal ecstasy."

I nearly spit out my wine at his provocative insinuation. The king grins unrepentantly before moving on to the next card—the imposing Devil.

"Dangerous temptations that must be resisted, lest they lead one astray," he intones with mock gravity.

I set down my goblet, unable to restrain my snort of laughter. "Is that so?"

The king's eyes dance with humor, though his expression remains serious. "The cards impart deep wisdom for those who look closely."

I lean in, emboldened by this flirtatious game. "Well don't leave out any sordid details, Your Majesty. My future clearly depends on it."

The king's intense gaze remains locked with mine as he turns over the next card - the Eight of Swords.

"Ah, a card that has more to it than meets the eye." he proclaims with dramatic flair. "It shows a figure blindfolded and bound, trapped by unseen restrictions."

His eyes bore pointedly into mine. "Perhaps it represents feeling shackled to toxic relationships or obligations that sever you from your true path in life."

The king traces his finger along the illustrated figure's bindings. "Base attachments that blind the spirit and must be severed, no matter the cost, or they will utterly consume you. Plus there’s eight swords total so the ending may be brutal. Stab it. A lot. End it."

“Well then.” I raise my goblet in a mock salute, thoroughly entertained by his heavy-handed "reading" at this point. "Here's to severing toxic bonds and finding my true spiritual union," I retort airily. "All great journeys begin with a single step - or stabbing, apparently."

The king seems to drink in my reaction, a speculative glint in his eye. But his mask remains firmly in place as he gathers the scattered cards once more. "It seems I still have much to learn in the realm of tarot divination," he remarks. "Perhaps you'd care to display your own mastery?"

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