Page 57 of The Beast King's Bride

I’m not breaking any rules, am I? I only need someone to help me get out of this dead wing of the building without losing myself for hours.

My plan is to get out, at least walk in the gardens. An illusion of freedom, just like I did back home when I wandered in the backyard of the palace and looked down at the plain and up at the sky, pretending I was a bird flying high or a fox in the grasses.

Pretending I had control over my life, that it didn’t belong to anyone but myself.

Leaving here, I could take with me something of value to sell. I’d still go see Pete but maybe I could start another life, a new life.

Free.

It’s an intriguing notion, though the uncertainty of it scares me. An interesting notion. Yes, it is scary but the more I roll it around in my mind, the more I like it.

I would—

My thoughts roll to a stop as we enter the king’s rooms. I hadn’t paid much heed to the fact that I would be visiting the room where he sleeps and… and I don’t know what else he does here. My face is warm but that won’t stop me from nosing around. I see a box on top of a table and make a beeline for it. I don’t know why I’m so intrigued by the Fae king.

Liar, I think. Of course you know. He’s so handsome and he keeps showing you new facets of himself and you quite like all of them, which is a problem, so you hope to find something terrible in here to convince yourself to take a step back before you fall head over feet.

With your captor.

Good Gods.

The box only contains various dried herbs. Medicinal, probably. The drawer underneath is locked, the other table is clear. There’s an open book on the table by the fireplace, next to an armchair, as if he’s spent time in here reading last night. If only I could read… The leather cover has the design of a circle with animals and symbols. They remind me of the constellations that Pete painstakingly drew in the soil with a stick on summer nights, teaching me their signs.

“Is everything all right, my lady?” Auria has begun stripping the four-poster bed and I put down the book.

“Let me help you.”

“My lady! Absolutely not.”

“I know how to strip and make a bed. When two do it, it goes faster. Here.”

Despite Auria’s protests, together we make quick work of the bed.

I never thought I’d feel proud of having been a servant but there is a sense of accomplishment in the surety with which I help her make the bed, the fact that I can do things the ladies of the court have no idea about.

“Gods, how many coverlets and down duvets does he need?” I mutter as we tuck the corners of the silken sheets under the mattress and carry back cover after cover to place over them. We plump the numerous pillows and cushions against the carved headboard.

“He has been feeling cold lately,” she says. “Since he came back with you.”

I think of the infected wound and wonder how often he has lain in the bed, shivering with fever. There is no reason whatsoever why my heart would clench in sympathy.

None whatsoever.

“Auria… When you said that the king has been kind to you and Zylphia, what did you mean?”

“My lady.” Her cheeks color.” The king doesn’t like it when we speak of this.”

“Why? What is the big secret? Did he do something unseemly?”

“Unseemly? Hardly. I wouldn’t like you to think that.”

“Then tell me.” I need to know more about him, understand how his mind works. Where he’s coming from. “I’d like to know. You’ve made me curious.”

“My mistake. I just cannot stand by in silence and let people speak of him like he’s a monster.”

“Do people do that? Why?”

“My lady…” She twists her hands in her frilly apron. “Our people blame him for what happened to the land. They say it was his fault, that he set up a game of high stakes without consulting the elders, that he played our lots and was defeated, that it was all because of his arrogance and pride. He is a king! What king does not have pride?”

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