Page 87 of Fake Fae-Ancée

"She wasn't ready," he growled.

I stared back at Nicolai. I still hadn't forgiven him for his demanded kissing act. He, on the other hand, still hadn't bought our story. Or he had bought it and was huffing against something else.

"But you forgave him?" Marina, who hadn’t spoke a word up until now piped up. She leaned forward in her seat, her face all curious adoration. I couldn’t help but smile at her.

"Of course I did," I said, my fingers intertwining with Yuri’s on my knee. "But I needed some time to process things…"

Nicolai snorted. "Five years?"

Yuri growled and his mother threw a scolding glance at her second son, hissing something in their native tongue. Nicolai frowned. But he crossed his arms, leaned back into the sofa and fell silent.

Yuri squeezed my hand. And I suddenly felt like crying. Fake, my brain cried out. All fake. This would end soon. Only a few days left until the ball. And I felt horrible that I had to lie at all these lovely people.

None of this was real. And yet, that soft and squishy part in me throbbed when Yuri put an arm around my shoulder, whispering treacherously in the back of my mind: wouldn’t it be nice if it were?

* * *

"Okay, I should have anticipated this…"

We both stood quite perplexed in front of the bed we were supposed to share. Yuri scratched his neck and cleared his throat.

Of course. As far as everyone present here was concerned, we were engaged. Everyone expected an engaged couple to share a room, cuddling and cooing in bed all day. I had kind of forgotten about that. Especially the last few weeks at Yuri's penthouse, where we hadn't had an audience to pretend to. And where I had my own room and a door I could close behind me…

"That's okay," I said, trying to sound steady and failed.

"I can sleep on the floor."

"Now don't be silly," I groaned, throwing my hands in the air.

"No, I'm serious." Yuri sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at me. "Just because we're fucking doesn't mean..."

I vigorously shook my head.

"We're engaged, remember?" I held up my hand with the ring, which still didn't come off. "Engaged people share a bed. End of story."

"Kai..."

"I don't want you throwing your back out or anything," I said quickly. "You're not going to give anyone credibility that the king has returned if you show up at the ball bent over like a question mark."

He laughed softly, and those dimples reappeared on his face, those damn things that always ruined everything. My resistance, my sanity...

It's all a lie. A double lie, even. You didn't sign the papers. You're not only lying to his family, you're lying to him. You're doing exactly what you've always accused him of.

"We just made up," Yuri said softly. "I'm glad you obviously don't hate me anymore. But I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"I don't," I muttered.

"And I may be a little old-fashioned, but you and I aren't married anymore, and..."

"But we are," I whispered.

Yuri froze. He blinked. Then he blinked again.

"I’m sorry?"

"We are still married." I sank next to him on the bed, looking at my knees, my hands, anywhere but him. Saying it out loud was like pushing giant rocks. "I… couldn’t sign those papers."

I looked at him swallowing hard. "I just couldn’t."

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