Page 48 of The Fae Kings' Bargain

Could there be another nearby room that would serve? Ria nibbled on her upper lip as she considered the possibilities. They’d passed quite a few doors before reaching the family area, but any of those rooms could be occupied. If it weren’t so late, she might have summoned Feref to ask. Not tonight, though. The poor man had nearly lost his job over her already.

Ria could ask the guard at the end of the corridor. Surely, he would know whether there were people in the nearby rooms? But what would she do if they were empty? She couldn’t forget that there was a spy out there. The guard had to stay at his current station or risk Toren and Mehl, and it seemed silly to have him call someone to escort her. It would be foolishness indeed for her to go by herself.

Sighing, she sank down onto one of the fancy, stiff chairs. If she wandered the palace alone under these circumstances, she would deserve whatever mockery the bards wrote after her demise. She’d had her fair share of beatings from her father—no reason to risk worse from the spy. She would have to find some other way to appease her restlessness until she could get a proper workroom arranged.

Maybe she could work on the fabric experiment? Ria scanned the bolts stacked along the wall. She’d added subtle designs to plain cloth with success, but she had yet to try altering something more complicated. Which of these could use a change in pattern? There was the floral motif, with its too-large flowers, or the eye-watering geometric design that made her dizzy any time she stared at it too long.

Hmm. Probably the first one. Dizziness never worked out well while doing magic.

Ria’s thighs twinged when she stood, and she flushed at the lingering reminder of her time with Toren and Mehl. She’d never had sex so often in a single day. How long would it take for her to get pregnant? She rested her palm on her belly as she strolled toward the bolts of fabric. The warmth of her hand felt comforting, but it didn’t exactly answer the question. She was neither a healer nor a seer to divine that.

Of course, she would have to get over the urge to throttle Toren before she gave him her body again. The ache of her muscles as she hefted the fabric told her that might not be a bad thing. Yet it was terrible, too. As angry as she was, she found she missed both kings. Madness to do so on such short acquaintance, but she couldn’t seem to resist.

Lost in thought, Ria nodded absently at the guard as she hauled the bolt of fabric out the door and headed toward her room. Would Toren and Mehl have settled their argument by now? Part of her wanted to knock on the door to check, but despite their physical relationship, it didn’t seem appropriate.

They were royalty—she was merely a vessel.

Ria shifted her awkward bundle until she could nudge the door open to her suite. She was so focused on keeping hold of the fabric that she was halfway through the sitting area before she noticed the servant standing by the bedroom door at the other end. Yelping, Ria dropped the heavy bolt, barely jerking her foot out of the way before the cloth thudded against the floor.

“Oh, my lady!” the woman cried. “I was just fretting about where you’d gone.”

Pressing her hand against her chest to soothe her racing heart, Ria frowned at the servant. “And you decided to linger in my bedroom?”

The woman went still, her eyes widening. “Isn’t…isn’t that customary for a lady’s maid? I saw the light shining beneath the door and thought to offer you some tea. For calming?”

Of course. Ria wasn’t accustomed to servants, but it made sense that the kings’ consort would receive the best service possible. She should have thought to request tea herself. “Ah, yes. I would appreciate that, thank you.”

As the woman bustled out the door, Ria glanced down at the fabric. Where should she attempt the experiment? She could always do it here instead of draping the cloth over the bed. Resolved, she gathered a cushion to kneel on before shoving the bolt until it rolled toward the wall, leaving a trail of flowered fabric in its wake.

Ria lowered herself to the cushion and held her hands over the cloth. This was much like forming a dress into its ideal shape, and yet it wasn’t. For one thing, the designs were woven into this fabric, not painted, so it was more complicated to shift. To rearrange the pattern meant transmuting the composition of each strand to change its color. It took a fair bit of time and a lot of energy.

Perfect for when she couldn’t sleep.

Her vision went hazy as she connected with her magic, but she didn’t close her eyes. Not with this. There were too many tiny details in the pattern to trust her inner vision alone. Instead, she focused her gaze on a single flower. So many shades of pink. How could she best minimize the size without ruining the overall look?

Bit by bit, she altered, shifting some shades and erasing others. Compressing. Her energy drained into the cloth, and she let it pour freely. She had more than enough after channeling for Toren. Truly, if he were here to provide more, she could transmute the entire bolt. Maybe even an entire room of the stuff.

High King Toren, the tailor’s secret power source—an amusing thought.

She barely processed the sound of the door opening, but the rattle of porcelain caught her attention. The tea. Time to stop, then. Ria shifted one last color and prepared to release her hold on the spell. Ah, but one more nudge on the pink there, and—

Pain exploded in her head, and pink blurred into black.

* * *

Despite Mehl’scomforting warmth at his back, Toren couldn’t settle into sleep. It was too impossible to shake his husband’s words.She’s trusting us to protect her. It might be difficult to maintain that trust if you hide pertinent details.Nothing but the truth, and yet here he was, resting while Ria fretted over a possible spy all alone.

Had Mehl told her about the wards on the family wing? Only the guards and servants entrusted with special amulets could make their way through unless directly guided in, as Ria and her father had been, or officially attuned to the magic, like Toren and Mehl. Even the amulets were bound to their user so that they couldn’t be stolen. It had been so for millennia, the spells renewed for each new monarch.

When the spell had shifted to him… Toren shuddered.Thathad been an agonizing day of uncertain magic. A task done blessedly infrequently, but it was vital, nonetheless. At least attuning Ria wouldn’t be as taxing. That would need to be completed sooner rather than later, no matter the state of his control. She wouldn’t relish being kept from her own room.

Gods, she was no doubt cursing his name. Or was she too terrified for that? Ria was braver than he’d expected, considering her history, but the threat of physical harm couldn’t be easy on her. How could he contemplate sleeping without ensuring she was well?

Mehl’s annoyed huff tickled his neck. “Tor—”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Toren tugged free of his husband’s arms and sat up. “But if I don’t speak to Ria, I won’t rest. She’s surely upset.”

“More angry, I think, which is why she chose to be alone.” Mehl crossed his hands behind his head, leaving the fine expanse of his chest on display. And the way the sheet draped—No. Toren yanked his gaze back to Mehl’s face in time to catch the flash of his wicked grin. “Go on. I’ll wait right here.”

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