Page 131 of Prize for the King
“You haven’t told Magnar you love him and he’s on edge. Very jealous, of course. He hasn’t said it outright, but he’s calmer when neither of us knights spends too much alone time with you.”
“What?” I sit up, outraged. “So he forbade you from…”
“You’re not listening. He didn’t, even though he could. He wants to be fair, and it’s killing him. It’s not that he forbade us—we’re trying our best to make this easier for him. Besides, you’re busy, too. It’s not the best time to get all lovey-dovey.”
“You’re saying you’re all suffering and it’s my fault.” My voice falters, and I look away, guilt squeezing my chest.
Arvi sighs impatiently. “I literally didnotsay any of that. Look, it’s hard to be married when it’s just two people involved, yeah? Add to that the fact there’s five of us, everything that happened between us, and the hardships of ruling a country. We were just shot at, remember? It’s hard. Not your fault.”
I hear what he says, but the guilt doesn’t go away. I wish it would. I’m so tired of feeling this way, and I desperately try to push it away, but the heavy, choking emotion always comes back.
“But it would be easier if I just told Magnar I love him. Or am I wrong?”
Arvi sighs, considering me. The water sloshes above my breasts now, and he cuts off the tap. I reach behind me for two bars of soap and hand him the citrus one.
“Magnar would be delighted if you told him thathonestly,” he says at last, not washing yet. “If you only do that to make him feel better, he’ll know. Don’t ask me how. The bastard just knows. Andthatwill make things a thousand times worse.”
I tilt my head back, looking at the dark ceiling. Water splashes, and Arvi grabs my foot. I gasp but relax when he massages it slowly with a lathered hand. His fingers knead my arch with delicious pressure, and I sigh with bliss.
“It’s like I love him, and yet… There’s this thing. Like a darkness, a premonition. It holds me back.”
“Hm. What premonition?”
I sigh in exasperation. “I don’t know! That something horrible will happen. It doesn’t make sense.”
“And you didn’t feel that with Khay?”
I close my eyes, letting the skillful gliding of his fingers unknot my muscles.
“I didn’t. And not with you, either.”
Arvi freezes, and I slowly lift my head, studying his face. He looks serious, a little sad, shoulders tense.
“With me,laruna?”
I close my eyes, my chest hurting. Oh, I am so frustrated with myself, but it’s like I can’t contain it. Once I know, I have to express it. Just like when I told Khay.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, looking into his amber eyes. “I love you. I’ve known for a bit and did my best not to say it, but I can’t hide things for long.”Happy things,I add in the privacy of my mind.
I don’t have trouble hiding anything painful andcomplicated.
Like the fact I’ve missed my monthly bleeding.Don’t think about it.
“Oh.”
Arvi doesn’t react, and I press my lips together, feeling ridiculously rejected. He’s the only one who hasn’t confessed his love for me in one way or another. Suddenly, I understand how Magnar must feel. He’s told me countless times he loves me, and I never said it back. I hate to make him hurt, but I don’t know what to do.
I swallow the tightness in my throat, the sudden bout of uncertainty, the vicious thoughts—of course Arvi doesn’t love me back, I’m not good enough, not pretty enough, don’t deserve love—and do my best to compose myself.
“Again, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”
He is silent, merely watching me, and I force my breaths not to shake, my eyes not to water. If Magnar suffers this same wretched feeling every time, I’ll have to pull myself together, and soon. If only I knew what stands in the way.
Maybe I’m broken somehow. Maybe he’s been too good for me, and I just can’t love him for it. I don’t know.
I look at Arvi and do my best to smile, because it’s not his fault, and really, he’s right not to love me back. I don’t deserve it.
His eyes glimmer a reddish amber that makes him look like a beast out of this world, and my chest hurts with longing. I know he’s mine, my knight, and I’m the only woman he’ll ever touch; yet, I want his heart. Just like he has mine.
