Alrec spoke of statues for what felt like forever while servants removed the desserts and tea service, replacing them with a jug of cold water with slices of cucumber floating around in it. The changes I hoped to bring about were more subtle. After running into the maid, Falin, in the city, I was more determined than ever to ensure our castle staff saw a wage increase. I was also considering starting some sort of charity for women in the city who were struggling.
I poured myself a glass of water, drinking until my stomach sloshed, nodding when necessary and offering a few words of agreement, until finally,finallyAlrec grinned and said he had a surprise for me.
He caught my hand and brought me out into the cool marble hallway, past where Broderick stood, and up into the throne room. The thick red velvet drapes did little to keep our footsteps from echoing against the double-height coffered ceiling. Everything, from the chairs along the wall to the picture frames to the stairs at the foot of the dais, had been painted red or gilded with gold leaf.
On top of the dais sat two ornate gold thrones. One was twice the size of the other, with an eagle’s head carved across the back. I’d seen the king sitting there on multiple occasions, welcoming visitors, holding court, hearing the concerns of the people.
I ran my fingertips along the gilded roses carved into the smaller throne’s scrolled arms. “Where’s the surprise?”
“It’s right here.” He patted the red velvet cushion on the small throne’s seat. “This is to be your throne.”
It was beautiful, to be sure. But why was it so bloody small? “The craftmanship is stunning,” I said, trying to remain positive.
Alrec rocked back on his heels, tucking his thumbs into his belt loops and puffing out his chest as he surveyed the empty room.
Not empty.
Broderick stood with his back to us at the entrance. When had he arrived?
“I knew you’d love it,” Alrec announced. “Commissioned it myself the year before last. It only just arrived. And right in the nick of time too, with my father’s failing health.”
My mother had been to see the king last night. When I’d asked after him, she’d shaken her head and said he didn’t have long. “How is the king today?”
Alrec’s shoulders lifted with his sigh. “Much the same, I’m afraid. But speaking of our upcoming nuptials seems to give him renewed vigor.”
Less than three weeks now and we’d be forever joined in holy matrimony. Alrec wrapped his arms around me, drawing me into his embrace so he could kiss my temple. My cheek. My earlobe. His mouth grew hungrier and more insistent as he worked his way down to my throat.
“I cannot wait for you to be mine,” he murmured, hands drifting south.
I leaned into him, letting him hold me. But then my gaze landed on my new throne, and all I could think was how insignificant it looked compared to his. Yes, the king’s power was greater than the queen’s, but did it have to be so obvious? Was I to sit on that throne for the entirety of my reign and bow to his every whim? To be showered with lavish gowns and jewels but never be allowed to attend a council meeting? Never enter the war room? Never have a say?
I drew away, offering my husband-to-be a demure smile. “Thank you for the throne. It is truly beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you,” he returned, desire clouding his eyes.
When I stepped back and told him I’d see him at dinner, he frowned but quickly hid his disappointment behind one of his dazzling smiles. “I look forward to it.”
I clutched my skirts, hurrying past Broderick. I needed to speak to my mother. Was I overreacting to this? Was this distinction simply one of those nonsensical human traditions that I needed to accept and move beyond? Unfortunately, she didn’t answer at her door. So I made my way to Lowri’s chamber instead.
“Lowri?” I knocked. “Are you here?” I needed to speak to someone—anyone—or else this nauseating feeling deep in the pit of my stomach was bound to get worse.
“Come in!”
The moment I opened the door, all I could smell was stale wine. Although much smaller than my own, Lowri’s room still had a wide armoire filled with gowns and a white sleigh bed with two matching lockers that contrasted nicely with the blush-pink rosette wallpaper. I found my friend flicking through dresses, humming to herself, a half-empty bottle of faerie wine on the closest locker.
“Do I want to know what you’re doing?” I asked, pleased to see her up and about.
“I need a new dress.” Lowri snagged the bottle by the neck and brought it to her lips. When she’d finished, she returned it to the table and resumed her search.
“You bought four yesterday.”
“Yes, but they won’t be ready for weeks. And all of these are so—” She made a sound in the back of her throat.
“What’s the occasion?” As far as I knew, the next big celebration would be my wedding day. A day I should be excited for, but instead I felt . . . nervous? Was that what this sick feeling was?
“The occasion,” she said, “is dinner.”
“Is there a special guest coming that I’m not aware of?” Alrec hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort. Then again, if it didn’t have to do with statues or tiny thrones, he probably didn’t think it relevant.