Page 44 of Conquer
She looks away, her expression distant. “He doesn’t want you either. So the mean men come to take you away…”
My throat is dry, my heart pounding at the sheer horror I suspect I’m only getting the faintest glimpse of. Isthatwhy Irina abandoned her? Because of her illness? A condition that she clearly inherited from Vadim?
Not to mention Magda’s obvious fear of men built like Maxim. How had she described him?“Is the big scary man here?”
Did that fear also stem from Irina? Had the woman arranged for some brutal henchman to yank Magda from whatever home she’d known, dumping her at an orphanage? It would certainly explain her reaction to Maxim, and Milton to an extent.
And, that obvious atrocity aside, my worst fear is that Magda knows well enough of her mother’s intentions. All along, she’s known. Even more tragic, she’s carried that pain believing the worst—Vadim didn’t want her. Irinatoldher he didn’t want her.
When I find my voice again, I clear my throat to banish any traces of anger. “You know what I’d do?” I set my teacup aside, fold my hands and lean forward, forcing her to meet my gaze head-on. “I’d tell the queen to shove it. I am a princess, and I have more powers than she could ever dream of.”
She raises an eyebrow, her lips quirked downward. “Like what?”
“Like…”Make this good, Tiffy.“I’m charming, and pretty, and I’m damn good at shopping. I’ll scour the whole damn world and hunt down a cure. Then I’ll use my wits to secure a lifetime supply of it. Cursed or not, I’m stronger for it either way.”
She wrinkles her nose, unconvinced.
“And,” I add, thinking fast. My eyes settle on a tuft of white centered on her lap, barely visible above the table. “I know that I’m never alone in my adventures. Because the kingdoeswant me—more than anything else in the world. In fact, he sent me a protector to always look out for me when I’m afraid, or lonely. And since the evil queen is a liar, I’ll know that he must have been cursed too. That’s why he isn’t there,” I add as she shifts, her fingers creeping toward It, burying in his plush fur. “And that when he wakes up, he’ll find me. He will always find me, no matter what.”
“Why?” she asks, her voice so hollow that I nearly lunge across the table to grab one of her hands, gripping it tightly.
“Because he lovesyou,” I tell her so fiercely, my voice cracks. “He will always love you. Always.”
Silently, she wrangles her fingers from mine. Then, she slips from her chair and scurries around the table. Before I have the sense to steel myself, she’s climbing onto my lap, burying her face in the crook of my shoulder.
“Oh, honey…” Without a thought given for my stitches, I wrap my arms around her, squeezing as tight as I’m able to. “And when the king does find you, he’ll have a crazy bitch girlfriend who will stab the queen’s eyes out if she ever comes near you again. You hear me?”
She says nothing, but I rock her in silence, inhaling the scent of her hair and the fruity shampoo Vadim must have bought for her. I stroke my fingers through her braided curls and reassure her in every way I can that my words are more than just a boastful fairytale.
I will personally fight to make them true.
* * *
After putting Magda to bed,I’m limping when I finally creep into a master suite—admittedly nowhere near as spacious or appealing as the old one. There I find Vadim hovering near the bed. The second he spots me, he’s by my side, lifting me into his arms.
“You’ve overexerted yourself,” he scolds, carrying me over to the bed. “Lie still. I need to check if you’ve broken any sutures.”
I pout and submit to his inspection. With utmost care, he strips my clothes, leaving them on the floor and manipulates me until I’m lying face down, his fingers gingerly peeling back my bandages.
“No damage,” he declares after a moment. “But, I’m inclined to put you on mandatory bed rest.”
I lift my head hopefully. “Sexy bedrest?”
He shakes his head, stroking down my lower back in a way that inspires thoughts ofanythingbut resting. “I’m afraid not,” he says, contradicting the desire conveyed by every swipe of his fingers. “You will have to go without until your wounds heal. That is final.”
“Is that so?” I play dirty and reach out, inching toward the front of his slacks.
“Very final,” he insists, groaning as I cup him, finding him straining the tailored fabric.
I’m not the only one who will go without, it seems. Still teasing him, I flex my fingers, watching his expression shift as he turns onto his side, facing me.
“Where did you go after dinner?” I ask cautiously. Once mine and Magda’s tea party ended, he’d served us another one of his delicious homemade meals and then vanished, leaving us to play a round of monopoly—during which I got my ass thoroughly kicked.
He frowns and captures my rebellious hand, moving it to settle on his chest. “Something you said piqued my curiosity,” he admits. “I made another round of calls to my contacts in the hopes of finding out more about Magda’s origins. Anything I can use to—” He breaks off, his jaw clenched, but I can guess the words he’s holding back.
He’s tracking down anything he can use against Irina. At least in her legal battle if she persists in her quest to block his custody.
“Any luck?” I ask hopefully, but he shakes his head.
