Page 144 of Prize for the King
“What is it, then?”
We’re in a corridor leading to the council room. I grab his hand and pull him up the stairs, toward his study. I can’t have this conversation out in the halls, and I hope the short walk will give me time to come up with a plausible explanation, but when we reach the black door, I still don’t know what to say.
Inside, Magnar grabs my shoulders as his eyes drill into me.
“Well? What is it? Because I have the impression you’re unhappy about having my child,wife.”
I flinch. It’s the first time the words are out in the open, inescapable,real.Even in the privacy of my mind, I never allowed myself to think about it in clear terms.
I am pregnant with his child.
The thought causes a small burst of giddy happiness, and a whole lot of other, darker things that swirl around and swallow the light.
“I… When I can’t deal with something, I pretend it doesn’t exist,” I admit shamefully, looking at the floor. “It’s… Just something I do. It’s not deliberate. When I’m scared, I refuse to look at the thing that scares me and pretend it’s not there. It’s… You’re right. I’m not happy. Or, notonlyhappy.”
His heavy sigh ruffles the hair on the top of my head. I force myself to look into his eyes, but as soon as I do, I wish to wipe the sight from my memory.
He’s no longer angry. Magnar’s face is twisted by a sick, haunting anguish, his eyes brimming with pain, teeth bared in obvious suffering. I make to wrap my arms around him, but he takes a step back, raising his hand to stop me.
“What are you afraid of?” His voice is quiet and heavy with soul-crushing weariness.
“I don’t know, because I was too afraid to think about it,” I whisper. “But I will. Please. I will be better. I will… I will be happy. I just need time.”
His lips twist in an ironic smile that lets me know whatever he says now will hurt.
“Time. Ah, yes. My fault. Your husband, the monster, forced you to marry him and got you pregnant not a month later, thebeast. And now he wants things from you, things you cannot give—but only him. Because with Khay, you didn’t need time. With Arvi. Do you love me yet, Caliane?”
I stare at him with wide eyes, torment squeezing my chest until Ican barely breathe. I can’t honestly tell him yes, but I don’t want to say no, either. I care for him, I adore his company, and I truly want to be his. There’s only that one hurdle, one difficulty I need to fix. I managed it with Raduna. I know I’ll get past it with Magnar, too, only…
I’m out of time.
“I will,” I promise, voice hot and pleading. “Please. Just give me time. It’s not about you, I swear. It’s just… Something is wrong with me.”
His laughter is hollow and self-deprecating as he turns his face away.
“Nothing’s wrong with you, love,” he says with false tenderness that slices my heart like a knife. “It’s just a lesson I must learn. You can force a woman to marry you, you can breed her with force, but you can’t make her love you. Or am I wrong?”
It’s my turn to grow harsh as anger grips my throat.
“Will you stop?” I growl. “I chose you. I had a chance to get away, and I fought to stay, because I want to be with you. Nothing you did since we came here was through force. I chose it all. And I am sorry that you hurt, I truly am, but a month and a half is little time to recover from having my life ripped away! I chose you! Now give me some damn time.”
Magnar blinks at me, looking mildly surprised, then cracks a sudden smile. My shoulders drop, and I exhale the remnants of my fury in a long, shaky stream, still watching him carefully in case he’ll go off again.
But he doesn’t. He comes closer, cups my cheek, and smiles warmly.
“You swore, my prize. I must have made you very angry. Now say ‘fuck’. Please. For me.”
I bare my teeth at him in the Agnidari way, and he laughs softly,running his thumb over my cheek. I clear my throat, take a deep breath, and do it.
“Fuck.”
“Thank you.”
He pulls me into his embrace, and I hold him with desperate longing. I was afraid he would banish me into a room far away from his so he doesn’t have to look at me and hurt. Yet now, when my head is clearer, I think it was such a silly fear. Magnar wouldn’t do that. When it comes to those he loves, he’s self-sacrificing to a fault.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice tight and hot. “I just… I thought it would be a happy moment. I was disappointed, and yes, hurt. Every day you don’t love me, it just… It hurts.”
“I am sorry, too. I should have told you as soon as I knew. I want to have your baby, husband. This, too, I chose.”
