“Did you know that my cousins, the elves, used to find spouses for the royal children by stealing commoners,” he says, tracing the lines of my body with his eyes. His eyes are full of concern, not lust. “I always thought it was comical that it was safer for them to find a stranger with no money or land over a political union. They even went as far as to make their ceremonies include the husband throwing his wife over his shoulder and running out into the night.”
I swallow hard, panicking as the Enduar king speaks. Was that not what he had done in the hallway in front of Keksej?
“Are you saying that we…”
He tilts his head to the side, looking at me with sad, guarded eyes. “We are not married. Enduares call our ceremony theGrutaliah Bondyr. It involves quite a bit more singing and blood than a simple kidnapping.”
Blood?I think.
The king's gaze flickers over my face, and I can see the gears turning in his mind. My gem hums at his attention.
"I have finished considering your offer. You stay here, and I save your brother.“ He says the words in a matter-of-fact tone. Hope flutters in my chest. “However, I require one addendum: you will not just stay in this mountain where it is safe, you will also be my bride.”
My mouth falls open, and the fluttering stops. “You’ve been planning this. You put me in the queen’s suite.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Do you accept?”
“Yes,” I breathe almost instantly. My mind catches up soon after, furious. A marriage with the king is a thought as preposterous as a fish falling in love with a bird—a lion coddling a lamb—but it has already been clear that I cannot leave.
The king’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you really so eager to marry the troll king?”
Then, something impossibly soft and furry curls around my ankle. I gasp at the contact. More heat directed to my core pulses through me, and I look down to see an uncovered tail tightening around my leg. It’s the first time I’ve fully witnessed the black hair at the end or the soft, suede-like skin.
My chest tightens. "I thought you were called the Enduares now," I whisper, and my words vibrate with the foreign object in my chest.
The king's expression remains blank. "And what will you be called when you stand at my side, my queen?" he says, reaching up to touch me and falling short. “Will you count yourself with us monsters?”
I ball my fists. "Queen? A slug can call itself a caterpillar, but that doesn’t mean it will turn into a butterfly.”
He purses his lips. “Can a new name not encourage a new attitude?”
I shake my head. “I am the daughter of the king’s whore. You are a king, and you want me, so I won’t call myself a queen—I’ll call myself my mother’s daughter."
The heat of his anger leaches into my skin. “You, Estela, have agreed to be my wife, therefore a queen, not my whore.”
I narrow my eyes. “Does a king not fuck his queen when he desires to produce heirs? How much choice does such a woman have?”
He sneers. “If you invite me into your bed, you will be soft and willing, or I won’t have you.”
His words inspire a mixture of fear, confusion, and anger in my head. I regret my deal already. I look behind him to the golden doors. I know where the handle is. It’s my last chance to try for real freedom. I duck around him. He catches me and hoists me over his shoulder.
The crystal inside of me starts to hum, but I will not give in so easily. "What the hell are you doing?" I screech, pounding on the armor on his back. It makes clanging sounds that echo through the tunnels as he starts walking.
“I’ve decided the elves were wise to carry away their brides,” he grunts. “Are all humans so quick to go back on their agreements? You’ll hurt yourself if you keep flailing around, my star.”
One more blow and the brittle skin along my knuckles breaks. I can't tell for sure, but I think his breath hitches as he walks faster. The tunnels blur together as we move, my head bouncing against the armor on his back. My blood is pumping through my veins like a wild animal. I try to twist and wriggle free, but his grip on my legs is ironclad.
"Let me go!" I yell again, my voice echoing off the walls.
He ignores me, his pace picking up until we're moving at a near run. Air rushes past my face as we hurtle through the tunnels, and then my head starts to pound from the blood. My midsection is also throbbing from his shoulder, jabbing right into my gut, much less gentle than the last time he carried me.
We only slow when we get back to the palace. I start crying when I see the door to my room. My future. The tears slide down my cheeks, leaving behind hot trails as he puts me down, takes my bag, and opens my door.
"Do you see that door?” He points to the wall at the end of my room. For the first time, I realize that there is a door in the stone. Discreet. “My room is through there. Knock if you need something. Now, go rest," he demands. Then adds a gentler, "Please."
I glare at him, tears still running down my cheeks. "Why would I ever come to you for anything?" I say.
He sighs. “You are free to go wherever you would like within Enduvida. But only after you are finished healing."