Page 27 of Sweetling
“Yes! I’m sorry for the confusion and for worrying the mayor. He’s kind for thinking of me, but I came willingly.”
Willingly.
Allarion stared up at his new bride, her hair a little mussed from the down pillows of her bed. Even from the ground, he could see the strain around her eyes, the tightness of her smile.
She wasn’t lying, but she wasn’t being truthful, either.
His wounded pride took another kick. Twins take him, he just needed more time. She would see—she would come to love this place as much as he did. He just needed a chance.
“You swore you wouldn’t interfere,” Allarion reminded Hakon, too low for Molly to hear.
“I did,” Hakon agreed, “but Orek didn’t. He drove us here, and he’s the one asking the questions.”
Allarion grinned, despite himself. “Indeed.”
He allowed his anger to deflate, his magic seeping back down into the ground. These were his friends, and in truth, it spoke well of them that they would care to check on Molly’s welfare. He hoped it meant he could rely on such consideration in the future, but for now, he didn’t need their meddling.
Looking back up at Molly and her forced smile, he said, loud enough for her to hear, “Our beginning was unorthodox, but I intend to woo her properly. This I promise—to her, with both of you as witness.”
Molly’s smile faltered as she stared down at him, her big eyes gone even wider with surprise.
Better she understood his intentions fully and upfront.
“But did you need to spirit her away to do it?” asked Orek.
Allarion smiled back at him, showing his fangs. “I seem to recall your orcish ancestors having something of a similar tradition?”
She’d gone mad. That was the only reason she could think of as she smiled and waved from her window while the two half-orcs made their farewells and she let them go—without her in tow.
Maybe the fae’s magic was so potent, especially here in his creaking house and dark forest, that she was already being influenced by it. That was the only thing that made sense, really, or offered any explanation for why she didn’t take her chance at escape.
The deeper truth, though, was that Molly feared two nights wouldn’t be enough. What would the fae do if she cried foul to the lord consort and his friend? What would he do if they brought her back, humiliating an ancient being and disrupting whatever his strange plans were?
Molly feared it’d be far worse than demanding the money back from her uncle.
And Brom…he’d beat her blue if the fae came calling for his money.
As Molly watched the two halflings retreat down the drive, she told herself just a few more days. He’d so far let her be, ensconced in the relative safety of her room. She doubted a lock would do much good against him if he truly meant her harm, but for now, she could hunker down in her chamber. Even if the apprehension had her wanting to tear through the rations she’d packed for something to do and the comfort of a full stomach.
Give it a few more days. Let him grow sick of me.
Maybe then Brom would have spent or squirreled away the money and there’d be nothing to return anyhow.
I’m not going back there,Molly decided. No one said she had to go back to Dundúran. So, maybe she gave it a few days and then, when he’d indeed lost whatever notion attracted him to her, she’d call off the handfast, as was her right.
The fae’s promise echoed in her ears.
Before departing, the lord consort had asked,“And if she rescinds the handfast? Will you let her go?”
The fae had looked up at her, in her window, when he said,“Yes. On my honor, she may leave whenever she wishes.”
Molly had stared down at those inhuman eyes, dark even from three stories away, and wondered if she could believe it. Surely, he wouldn’t go to such trouble, such expense, just to let her walk away.
She didn’t know if she could believe his earlier promise, either, that he meant to woo her properly. It all seemed absurd, ridiculousness of the highest order. Nobody made a fuss over her, including Molly herself. This all had to be some elaborate plot, some scheme to get…something from her.
Molly had no wealth nor title, and where her skills lay weren’t with housekeeping nor carpentry, as a house like this required. So that only left one thing.
Once again, her tits seemed to have gotten her into a bit of trouble. The question was whether she used them to get herself out again.
