Page 31 of The Beast King's Bride

“A task. I don’t know, king of the Fae. Am I?” I place my hands flat on the table. “You have yet to tell me what the task is.”

“I cannot tell you.”

“Well, that is a problem then, isn’t it, king?” I sigh, look down at my plate. It’s blue glass—blue stone?—and my reflection stares back at me. “How am I supposed to accomplish what you brought me here for if you can’t tell me what it is?”

He lowers himself in the chair across from me, leaning back, studying me from under his dark lashes. The glow of the fire gilds his strong features, the intimidating breadth of those shoulders. His fingers, spread on the table, are long, a smattering of scars on his knuckles.

“I have a name,” he says eventually. “You could try using it.”

“It’s a mouthful,” I reply, still fighting my annoyance. “King.”

“Call me Talen.”

I blink at him. A nickname? “Talen.”

“There. Not so hard, is it, princess? Or may I call you Elayne? Or Ash?”

“Princess is fine,” I say coolly.

His smile returns for a moment, his head cocking to the side, his eyes on me. But before he can say anything, three Fae enter, carrying covered platters of food. The aromas wafting over to me are heavenly. Hunger becomes a living thing, clawing at the inside of my stomach.

When the covers are lifted, the platters are revealed to contain a roasted duck, piles of roots and vegetables in a brown sauce, and rice tossed with herbs. It all looks like normal food, like this morning’s breakfast.

“Did Jassin cook all this?” I ask.

The king—Talen—coughs behind his hand. It sounds suspiciously like a chuckle. “No, he only cooks at night. During the day I have cooks.”

“But why wouldn’t the cooks cook at night? I…” The Fae come over with the platters and fill up my plate with meat, vegetables, and rice. They then walk to the other end to serve the king, while another Fae enters with a pitcher of ruby liquid that has to be wine.

Seeing the king across from me is so strange. Inside this dark palace, in front of the jumping flames, not yet sure why he thinks I can help with anything, I might have been content with staring at the precious sculpture that is his face. It’s said that humans cannot compare in beauty to the Fae, and he’s certainly pretty enough to shatter a girl’s mind.

Needing reinforcement, I take the glass and sip at the ruby wine. It’s tart and sweet and though it doesn’t taste like wine, it burns as it goes down my throat, so it’s doing its job.

“So tell me about your curse,” I say.

I’m starting to doubt that the grains I’m eating are rice, or even that the bird is a duck, but it’s all melt-in-your-mouth soft and delicious, definitely a few steps up from Jassin’s cooking.

Yet I can barely taste it as I turn over what I know about the palace in my head and try to decide how to further my cause. Sitting here eating with him surely isn’t helping.

And yet… The more I know about him and his world the better my escape plan will be, I decide. And if I gain his trust, he may give me more freedom in his palace. Maybe a map of its winding corridors so that I can find my way in it.

“So the task I’m supposed to accomplish…” I say when he remains silent. “Does it have to do with your curse?” I raise the goblet. “And the riddle said I could break it?”

He shrugs. “A woman who is and isn’t a princess, who is and isn’t human.”

“That’s it? That’s all? And then?”

He shakes his head. Takes a sip from his goblet.

“You must know more. There has to be more.”

“I cannot tell you.”

“Yes, you said that before. Not helpful.”

He pushes his chair back and stands, lips stained with ruby wine, eyes glittering. “You’re impertinent!”

Don’t anger him more, I tell myself. “I’m only trying to understand. You bring me here, refuse to reply to my questions. You know, I used to be a free woman. Does the riddle say I’m to be your prisoner?”

---