Page 31 of The Fae Kings' Bargain

After the woman rushed ahead to spread the word, their way was much easier, though the curious stares didn’t exactly cease. Regardless, Ria found tension drawing her muscles ever-tighter with each step. What would happen when they reached the kings’ room? Her skin heated. Aside from the obvious, of course, although the obvious was perhaps the problem.

Even as she grew wet at the memory of being taken by Toren in the throne room, uncertainty heightened her nerves. That had been…fire. A spontaneous moment born of sudden passion. This time was more deliberate. She was giving herself to the kings with purpose.

And few things were scarier than that.

* * *

Somewhere between thefamily wing and the servant’s quarters, Toren seemed to have lost a bit of the hard edge that had threatened his control. Mehl had shifted in the other direction. Now his husband walked calmly up the stairs while Mehl fought not to stomp his temper into the stone. The threat of Toren’s brother picked at him, but it wasn’t really that.

It was Ria’s frozen expression when they’d first rushed into her room.

He’d seen that look before on his sister’s face when her new husband had grown angry during a family gathering. There was a haunting stillness to it, but not quite that of a predator in front of prey. For alongside the fear, there was that little hint of frantic hope. That idea that if one reactedjust so, all would turn out well.

Mehl had watched Klerah carefully after he’d first seen her worrisome reaction, but it had taken a couple of months to prove the abuse. When he’d come upon his sister being punched in the stomach, he’d beaten her husband severely before binding the man up for the authorities. Mehl had received a mild rebuke from his superior for that, but it was a formality at best—and entirely worth it.

Even though several centuries had passed, that hell spawn still bore the scars as he limped through the recesses of the dungeon near Mehl’s hometown. And Mehl knew because he made it a point to check yearly. Fortunately, Klerah had remarried a couple of decades after Mehl had wed Toren, and she and her current husband now lived half a day from the palace.

To see another woman he cared about—

Mehl stiffened. Another bit of craziness, that. He surely didn’t have the same level of feeling for Ria—not even close. She wasn’t family, and he didn’t think of her like a sister. He wrinkled his nose. Definitely not like a sister. Yet somehow, hehadcome to care for Ria with a fierce, protective urgency. Like most things involving this situation, it defied logic.

Her father had much to answer for. If Mehl were once again a simple guard-in-training and not king, he would have slipped into the dungeon to mete out his own justice, but even kings had limits. He rather suspected their subjects would protest if either of their monarchs began beating prisoners before any kind of trial.

As soon as they reached the family wing, Toren slowed until he walked at Mehl’s side. “Thank you for the warning.”

Mehl nodded. “We must take care.”

He might have said more, but Ria stepped up to his right. “Take care? Do you think there might be spies even here?” she asked.

His answer wasn’t a lie, though it skirted the truth behind the words she’d overheard. She didn’t need to know they’d been talking about startling her. “I doubt it, but it would serve us well to be cautious while the Centoi are here.”

Toren opened the door to the High King’s suite, and Mehl followed him through. Had Toren shivered when passing through the protective shield on the door? Mehl frowned at his husband’s tense shoulders and the tight expression he wore when he turned. That calm he’d shown as they’d retrieved Ria was at least partly feigned, Mehl would wager.

The room grew quiet as he and Ria joined Toren in the center of the sitting room. Had it only been a day since she’d entered this room with her father and set off the wards? It felt like much longer. In that time, she’d agreed to have Toren’s heir. She’d taken Mehl into her mouth as Toren had claimed her.

Yet her very demeanor shouted her uncertainty. Her eyes were averted like they’d been the day before, almost as though she was afraid they would chide her for glancing their way. Her fingers were twisted together so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. It was as though they’d never been intimate at all.

“Ria,” Mehl said softly, but her gaze darted to his as though he’d yelled. “Are you afraid of us now?”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “Not exactly.”

Toren eased closer until they formed their own little triangle. “I am sorry if my anger caused you distress. It was not because of you. My control was thin after our visit from the Centoi, and finding you gone did nothing to help.”

“Was Feref not supposed to send me downstairs?” Ria asked. “He sounded confident that it had been on your orders.”

Toren’s jaw clenched hard enough that Mehl reached over to rub his arm soothingly. “I told him to make sure your return went unnoticed,” Toren said. “And to place you temporarily in a less conspicuous room. As a duchess of the realm, you should have been given a place among the other noble guests.”

Ria’s brow furrowed. “They would definitely notice that.”

“Not necessarily.” Mehl smiled at her. “There are many rooms here. Whole corridors that are only opened for special occasions.”

He could see that she didn’t quite understand the scope of Toren’s anger. Like him, she hadn’t been born to the nobility. Royal servants were well-regarded, but it was a terrible insult to house a noble amongst them. To people like himself and Ria, it was simply a less fancy room. To the highborn, it was a shift in their entire world.

Mehl lifted his hand slowly, ready to stop at the slightest indication that Ria was uncomfortable. She tracked the motion, but instead of flinching, she relaxed as he brushed his fingers gently along her cheek. Somehow, his anger had shifted almost entirely to tenderness.

“What is wrong?” Mehl asked.

Her sigh warmed his wrist. “It’s silly, but…I don’t know what to do now that we’re here. Deliberate action is so much tougher than sudden passion.”

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