Page 51 of The Fae Queen's Revenge

But he’d protected her as well as he could. Then, he’d been the one to win her. Involuntarily, his gaze flicked toward the wall she’d once leaned against as he claimed her, and again, he had to contend with unwelcome arousal. He needed another distraction.

The sound of an indrawn breath helped, for one look at Ryenil’s face had foreboding rushing into his blood. The kingstared at Lady Selesta with a desire he hadn’t displayed since… Since his mistress, Lora, had died. Centuries had passed, and Ber had been young, the passage of time blurring his memories of the lady. But if he properly recalled, Lora had kept her long,goldenhair unbound for the king’s pleasure.

Oh, no.

King Ryenil glanced toward Ber, a seemingly casual look—but nothing about the man was casual. The king made quick note of Ber’s still-semi-hard cock, and hot, burning fury entered his gaze. “It best not have beenthislady you denied my maid for,” Ryenil snarled, his voice barely low enough to prevent being overheard.

“I’ve never seen the lady,” Ber answered smoothly. Calmly, though his heartbeat pounded in his ears. “I’m afraid it’s difficult not to react to her incredible loveliness, but I’ve nearly regained control of myself. Forgive me, Father. I would never wish to offend such a demure and delicate personage.”

It was the wrong thing to say, but not because of the king’s possible anger. No, Ryenil’s gaze took on an appreciative glint as he stared at Lady Selesta once more. “Biddable, I would say. And hair just like…”

How could Aony not have anticipated this? The man had made a deal with Ber so that his sister’s debut would go smoothly—and to avoid an engagement between them. But Aony was older than Ber by several decades and would thus know the power of this slight resemblance. If he hadn’t wanted her attached to the crown, then—

The duke caught his eye for only a heartbeat, but the hint of smugness that flashed across his face was enough.

He’d known.

He didn’t want his sister kept safe—he wanted her on the throne. And if he managed the deed before Tes returned, the king might soon have more children to act as competition.

That cagey, rotten, no-good piece of muck.

As soon as the pair halted in front of the dais, Aony bowed, and Lady Selesta sank into a graceful curtsy. “Is this why you wished to present your business first?” the king asked.

Duke Aony inclined his head, “Yes, Your Majesty. I hope you will forgive my recent preoccupation. As you can see, I had much on my mind with my sister’s coming-of-age.”

“I do see,” Ryenil replied.

“May I present her, Your Majesty?” Aony asked. At the king’s gesture, he continued. “May it please you, let my sister Lady Selesta Elere Hayl be known to you. She is a dedicated subject, more than ready to take her place here at your pleasure.”

Ber’s stomach twisted at the terrible insinuations and all their implications.

Ryenil shifted in his seat. “Welcome to the royal court, Lady Selesta. You are of age and willing to serve?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the lady answered softly, her gaze not rising above the king’s chin. “I have trained all my twenty years to join your court and to marry whomever you and my brother choose for me.”

Her fan trembled just that little bit more.

“According to the family healer, she is fully matured and fertile,” Aony said, so casually that Ber longed to strike him.

The lady flinched, her fan swaying from the subtle move, and for the first time, Ber caught a hint of tightness in her expression. Was she not as demure and biddable as she seemed, then? He hoped to the gods that was the case, for her life would be a short one if she entered this wretched mess of a court with too gentle a nature.

Especially—most especially—if she actually married the king.

Chapter 25

A Matter of Reception

Tes’s fingertips burned from digging them into the rough stone wall, but it was a preferable outlet for her anger, far better than storming out of the tunnels and into the throne room. No matter how satisfying it would be to walk up to Duke Aony and shove a knife beneath his ribs, directly into his black, rotten heart. Everything he’d done to her, from having her death faked to setting up Ber to take the blame, had been to solidify his family’s claim to the throne.

Lady Lora, the king’s mistress, had been a cousin of Aony, and the resemblance between her and Lady Selesta was stunning. Now that King Ryenil was unencumbered with a wife from a powerful neighboring kingdom, he would be able to wed the lady if he wished. And Tes felt certain that he would wish. His obsession with Lora had been so absolute that he’d once struck Tes for not being born of the woman.

Upon his mistress’s death, he’d beaten the queen so thoroughly that she hadn’t left her rooms for a week without a heavy glamour. He’d been furious that his unwanted wife had outlived his true love. Not thatlovehad really been involved. Her father wasn’t capable of experiencing the emotion, but he was more than adept at confusing possession for it.

As such, it wouldn’t be Lady Selesta herself who drew him. He would care nothing for her personality, preferences, or goals. He would see in her only what had once escaped his ownership, and he would have her as completely as he possibly could. It wouldn’t be a pleasant fate for the lady. Tes didn’t know what degradations he delivered in the bedchamber, but she’d seen enough women flee his rooms to be sure she didn’t want the details.

Shuddering, Tes returned her attention to the throne room.

“I will ensure that both of you have a place directly beside me at dinner tonight,” the king said, causing a slight stirring of whispers.

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