Betrothed (41 page)

‘I belong to your son,’ I whispered, when he finally ended the kiss. I was shaking and barely able to stand. I was in utter shock—at what he had done, but mostly at my reaction to it. I had enjoyed his kiss. Worse, I had
responded
to it—voraciously. And I knew that if he wanted another, I would give it to him with pleasure. I disentangled my fingers from his hair and released the pressure of my body pressed to his.

He looked into my eyes and laughed. ‘Foolish girl! You only inflame me with your words. You belong to me if I wish it. Did you not just prove it with that kiss? You have no say.’

I stayed silent—I knew he spoke the truth. Leif was no match for him. My betrothed couldn’t save me if his father wanted me. The king was thoughtful for a long moment, and when he spoke, his words—and the tone of them—were terrifying.

‘If you care for the life of your betrothed, Marla, my advice to you is to get out of Faera. I will not be thwarted. I will never allow your parents to get the better of me. So leave, before I decide to take you for my own. If the decision be made, you
will
be mine. Unlike your mother, I will give you no choice. If I wished it, I could take you at this moment. I could make you yield to me. I could make you want me, even
crave
me. There would be no struggle. There would be only you, falling into my arms, pleading with me to make you mine. So go home, Marla, go back to your human world and never let me lay eyes on you again.’

‘Why do you hate me?’ I was crying again, the tears flowing down my face. I had never felt more helpless and hopeless in my life. But nothing could sway him.

‘Hate? I don’t hate you, Marla. This is not even about you. This is about pride—my pride. Years ago I forbade your mother her pregnancy as punishment for her defiance. Stupidly, she chose to defy me once more. This is the result of that choice. I won’t lose, Marla. I am king. What is she?
Who
is she? Nothing and nobody—just common Fae.’

Defeated, I collapsed to the floor.

‘Please, don’t send me away,’ I begged. ‘Leif will never believe I want to leave him.’

And yet, if he didn’t, he and his mother were doomed. I looked up to the king from where I lay crumpled at his feet.

‘Please, King Telophy, have mercy,’ I whimpered. Then I clutched at his ankles, pressed my forehead to his feet. I left tears on his skin as I looked back up to him.

He watched me, unmoved. ‘Have mercy? Where is my mercy? No, Marla, you will go and I advise you think quickly, my son will not stay long with his grandfathers. And remember: make the story good—he must believe. His life, and that of his mother, depend upon it.’

He left me then, in no doubt about what I must do. I knew my leaving was inevitable, Leif’s father would never allow us to be together. I pulled myself together; there was no time for self-pity. I had only the time it took for Leif to eat with his relatives to invent a story as to why I couldn’t remain in Faera. Above everything, he must believe it. But how was it possible? He knew what he meant to me, how I yearned to be with him. He knew it because our connection ensured he felt it too. But his life depended on the story. I stood and brushed myself off before checking my
appearance in the mirror. I looked terrible, every bit as miserable as I felt. There was work to be done.

I sat down at the dressing table and got started. I brushed my hair and tied it into a ponytail before decorating it with one of the flowers from the arrangement on the table. Then I went into the bathroom and poured cold water into the basin. Cold was better, more invigorating, and I needed to think. I splashed the water on my face several times, before drying off and applying lipgloss. I examined the results. I looked more presentable, but nothing could hide the sorrow in my eyes. Perhaps that wouldn’t matter—no matter what story I came up with, Leif wouldn’t expect me to look anything but depressed.

I returned to the dressing table and plundered my mind for a solution. He would never believe me if I told him I didn’t love him enough or didn’t want him any more. Impossible. I could tell him I was homesick for Earth. But he wouldn’t believe that either—he knew how unhealthy Earth was for me. I could tell him I missed my family and friends too much, but that wouldn’t work either. Leif knew he meant more to me than anything or anyone. I was running out of time. And then I stumbled across an idea that might be remotely believable to him. I prayed I was a good enough actress to pull it off. I had to be. The thought of what would happen if I were not was terrifying. I sat staring at my reflection, jiggling my legs and rehearsing my lines, while I waited for him to join me.

When he came, he shone. He was deliriously happy, so high that he didn’t even realise my mood. He seized me by the waist and twirled me through the air. Then he pulled me to him and buried his face into my neck.

‘Marla,’ he breathed, ‘my beloved, it is over.’ He held me against him and I disappeared into his embrace. With everything inside of me, I tried to capture this moment—his skin covering mine, his hair brushing my cheek, his lips pressing kisses to my face, filling me with shivers. I wanted to keep it all forever.

And then he lowered me to my feet and leaned away from me, touching his fingers to his lips. I averted my face, not wanting him to see my eyes.

‘Marla, what is this? Are these tears of happiness?’ He lifted my face and peered into my eyes as he wiped my tears away.

I couldn’t put off the inevitable; I took a long breath, released it quickly, then told him, ‘I have to go back.’

‘Of course—we need to inform your family. But we have won, Marla. You will be permitted to make Faera your home.’ He pulled me to him again.

‘Leif, I have to think of more than us. I can’t leave my family. They would be devastated. My sister’s going through a bad time and my parents need me, you saw how upset they were this morning . . . and my father’s not well.’ I felt sick as the last words left my mouth.

He took a step away from me, looked into my eyes as he said, ‘You’ve not spoken of these things before.’

I dropped my eyes to my feet. ‘Because I didn’t think I would need to. I didn’t want to hurt you, and . . . I thought the assembly would decide against me.’

‘So the tears this morning? The fear?’

‘Real tears, Leif, and real fear because I knew no matter what, I couldn’t leave my family.’ I could feel myself choking on the lies. I swallowed hard. Leif gripped my chin and brought my eyes to his again. He looked utterly confused.

‘This makes no sense, Marla. Faera is your home. You are needed here.’

‘I can’t abandon my family. You don’t know what it’s like for me.’ I hated this deception and more than anything I hated Leif’s father for making me do it.

‘You can spend all the time you wish with your family—both of your families, human and Fae. You can have it all.’

How I wished it were true.

‘It’s not enough. Dad’s really sick, he needs me.’ I prayed he couldn’t tell I was lying.

‘Marla,
I
need you.’

‘I can’t stay here.’

‘You would give up Faera? You would give up me?’ His expression was more astonished than anything else.

‘Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Please don’t try to force me to stay.’

‘Force you to stay? I hope you know I would never
force
you to do anything. I have watched my father dominate my mother all of my life. I would never do that to you.’

‘I didn’t mean . . . I know you would never treat me badly. I don’t want . . . I don’t have a choice.’

‘There is always a choice. I don’t understand any of this. I
know
it would not be possible for me to put anything or anyone before you and your happiness.’ His own words should have been the only clue he needed to my insincerity.

‘If that’s true, then just let me go back to my family.’

‘It would make you
happy
to leave me?’

‘Yes,’ I lied, not really expecting him to believe it.

His eyes narrowed. ‘You are not being honest, Marla. What are you keeping from me?’

‘I just want to go home. My father’s sick, I need to be with him and I want my friends and family.’ The stress of it all was making me tremble. I felt weak from my head to my toes and thought I might collapse at any moment.

There was silence for a time as Leif’s narrowed eyes studied my teary ones. The expression on his face was unreadable and when finally he spoke, his words were excruciating. ‘If you leave me, Marla, you will not become the Fae queen you were born to be, and I will be forced to choose another.’

Could he mean it? Was it possible? Could he just replace me like a pair of old shoes? For a moment I thought he might be testing me because he seemed to be watching for a reaction, his eyes not once leaving mine. So even though his words cut my heart in two, I tried, with everything inside of me, not to give him that reaction. But it was impossible because suddenly I realised that of course he meant it, he was prince and I was just . . . me. My breath caught on a choking sob and fresh tears poured down my face. My head was spinning and I felt myself begin to crumble.

But before I could fall, Leif caught me in his arms and pulled me against him, kissed my tears away. ‘You must not worry, Marla. You must have faith in me. Everything will be all right.
You
will be all right.’

‘How can I? I have to leave you,’ I cried.

‘I know, I know, my love, but hush now.’ And then he captured my lips with his and sent me to sweet oblivion with his power. When I was calm he said, ‘It will be easiest for you if my mother escorts you home.’

He held me for a while longer, dropping farewell kisses on my face and hair. And then he released me and told me goodbye.

I wanted to scream, to pummel my fists into his chest, to accuse him of not fighting for me, not loving me enough. Somehow I managed to stand quietly as he left the room.

When he was gone, I collapsed onto the bed. I didn’t know how to feel. I was fairly sure I’d been successful in convincing him, but how could he have believed me? At the same time I wanted to sigh with relief, hurl something across the room and curl up and
die. I allowed the whirlpool of emotions to claim me, slumping into myself and letting the great tidal wave of grief have me.

I’d cried a lake of tears by the time Atara crept into the room a few minutes later. She came and sat silently beside me, her hand resting feather light on my shoulder. ‘Leif has asked me to take you home, Marla . . . I’m sorry.’

‘What for?’ I murmured. ‘It’s not your fault.’

‘I am sorry I cannot help you. Sorry also that things have turned out the way they have.’ Then she bent over me, leaned close to my ear and whispered, ‘And sorry for whatever my husband has threatened you with to make you feel the need to give up my son.’

Frightened, I turned sharply and looked at her. ‘He’s done nothing, it’s my decision.’

‘Hush, let’s leave it at that then,’ she said quickly.

But I knew she realised the truth, so why didn’t Leif? And then the answer came to me. It was because he was prince—a prideful male of the royal bloodline.

‘Atara, do you know what happened to my parents?’ I whispered.

‘Only that Finelle and her husband were captured in Constantine. I don’t know what became of them after that.’

‘Do you think they’re still alive?’

‘It would surprise me were they not. My husband loved your mother. He would not allow any real harm to come to her.’

Atara was giving her husband
way
more credit than he deserved. I wondered if she would feel the same if she was privy to the threats he’d made against her and her son. She was living in a dream world. She clearly had no idea of what the king was capable of. Better for her to remain ignorant—it’s not like she could do anything about it. It’s not like she wasn’t trapped, locked away from her betrothed and forced into the arms of a
monster. It’s not like it would be balm to her peace of mind to know the truth. But I needed to know how she did it; how she endured being with King Telophy knowing her betrothed was out there somewhere.

‘King Telophy told me about your betrothed.’

Atara sighed. ‘I wish he had not.’

‘How can you stay with him knowing your betrothed is alive?’

‘He is my husband.’

‘But your betrothed—he’s out there somewhere.’

‘Marla, Telophy is also my king . . . I love him.’

Of course she loved him. She didn’t have a choice, hadn’t been given one. Just like me, she was his victim.

‘I guess I understand.’

‘I don’t think you do. But in any case, Leif must not find out my betrothed lives.’

‘I won’t be seeing him to tell him,’ I said and felt a surge of nausea as the words left my lips. ‘But why wouldn’t you want him to know?’

‘Because my son believes I had nothing to lose by marrying his father. I don’t wish to shatter that illusion.’

‘He’s ruined so many lives,’ I murmured.

Atara sighed. ‘My husband is king, Marla. He has enormous power and responsibility. But he is also proud and has been injured—in ways that no other king I know of has. When he has hurt those close to him, it has been the fault of all these factors combined.’