Page 18 of Straw and Gold
“I know he was born in Moonstone Wood,” I answered slowly. “I know he became king of the Citrine Cliffs at just twenty-two, and I know that just a few months after he took the throne, he bargained with my mother for my hand in marriage.”
“Interesting,” Fedir muttered, pulling on his chair to sit across from me. “This was all you knew and yet you still came?”
I gestured to myself and the delicate crown Alista insisted I wear, frustrated at how badly this whole marriage had gone so far. “Obviously.”
He sat back with a light chuckle. “Here’s what I can tell you becauseobviously, you're dying to know.”
I shifted slightly, crossing my own arms and trying not to look too eager for any little sliver of information about the man I’d married, whose magic I desperately needed.
“King Killian ascended the throne as was ordained by Céad, Goddess of the Changelingfae. As I’m sure you are well aware, she has no children—no heir—and set out to find one about thirteen years ago.”
Oh, fuck. This was real information. Real history of my husband’s life.
Grinning at my not-so-subtle reaction, he continued, “Killian had immense power among the Forestfae. Enough so that Fiolatold Céad he would make a great king and very possibly, a greater heir.”
“Can an heir to a Goddess be of a different faekind?”
“No.”
We both jumped, turning to the voice in the doorway. Killian glared furiously at Fedir who stood and sauntered toward the door.
“Just filling in some gaps during the tour,” he said with a shrug.
“You needn’t,” Killian responded curtly.
“Are you still so sure about that, Your Majesty?” Fedir jerked his head in my direction where I straightened on the sofa. He patted my husband’s shoulder and left without another word.
I rose and met Killian at the doorway, accepting my body’s reaction to seeing him there, commanding space with his red waves tied back and eyes of sparkling blue watching me carefully.
“Hello, husband,” I greeted, just inches from him. “How fare the farms?”
His stoney stare held mine in a challenge to look away.
Well, I wasn’t fucking going to.
“Fine,” he finally said. “And how fares the castle?”
Matching his response with a playful lilt, I repeated, “Fine.”
“You’ve seen it all, then?”
I thought for a moment, my mind wandering through the many halls, rooms, and courtyards. “The westward tower,” I blurted. “I’ve not seen it yet.”
His brows furrowed as if he wrestled with his next words. “Would you like to?”
“Yes!” I answered, beaming at his offer.
A ghost of a smile graced his lips and he turned, jerking his head in the tower’s direction.
Giddy with hope, I followed, catching up to his side and biting my tongue from asking all the questions I wanted answered.
What exactly entailed checking on the farms?
Were there any problems to address?
What was his favorite book in the castle?
What would his beard feel like against the skin on my thigh?
