Too warm.
Too overwhelming.
All that wine may have been a bad idea.
When he began the steps, my own feet were slow to move. We’d only taken three turns when the room began spinning. “Oh no . . .” My face felt hot and sweaty, and even though Caiman stopped, the people watching us were still going around and around and around, a swirl of color and motion, and if they didn’t stop, I was going to get—
Caiman’s arm slipped around my waist, towing me toward a room concealed in the paneling behind the dais, a trail of catcalls and jolly laughter following.
Caiman wasn’t laughing, though. Did he even know how? He looked like he wanted to murder someone.Broderick appeared out of nowhere to open the door. Beads of perspiration collected on my brow. My stomach heaved, and I vomited all over the tiles.
Caiman cursed, catching me before I collapsed.
“I think I’m dying,” I groaned, my throat burning and tongue tasting like bile.
“You’re not dying. You’re drunk.” Strong arms collected me against a solid chest. Doors opened and closed. Squeezing my eyes shut, I prayed the queasiness would subside. When I felt steady enough to open them again, I really did think I would die.
“Where are we?” This wasn’t my room. My room was light and airy, gold and blue.
This room had been decorated with mahogany and emerald green, from the vines on the patterned wallpaper, to the four poster bed, to the heavy drapes on either side of a double-height window.
Caiman set me on the foot of the bed and went to speak to someone at the door.Broderick. They exchanged words in low tones, glancing at me every so often. I couldn’t stay in here. Alone. Withhim. There had to be an exit somewhere. There were two doors in addition to the one Caiman blocked, but there was no telling where they would lead.Knowing him, it could be some sort of torture chamber.
A moment later, the door clicked closed, and I found myself utterly alone with my husband.
11
CAIMAN
The door closed,and I resisted the overwhelming urge to call Broderick back. Why had I brought Roisin here instead of her mother’s chambers? She may have been expected to spend the night with me—someone would be in to check the sheets in the morning—but she was drunk as a bloomin’ lark. Surely the council would understand my refusal to sleep with her when she could barely stand.
Besides, this wasn’t what either of us wanted.
I glanced at my new wife from over my shoulder, finding her turned away toward the adjoining study, clutching the wall.
It isn’t whatoneof us wanted,I silently amended.
The moment she’d entered the chapel, the air had escaped my lungs, and I hadn’t been able to catch my breath since. She should’ve been marrying Alrec, but by some twisted turn of fate, she had married me. She’d promised to love and honor me without the slightest tremor in her voice.
Me. No one else.
She didn’t have a choice, I knew that.
And yet I allowed myself to pretend for those few precious moments that this was real. That I loved her, and she loved me, and that we were going to rule this kingdom together, a true partnership in every way. My worries and fears faded until all that remained were the two of us speaking words we didn’t mean.
I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off of her at dinner. Every time her hair fell over her collarbone, my fingers itched to brush it away. None of her smiles had been for me, but it hadn’t mattered because she had been smiling.
“Is this your room?” Roisin choked, bringing me back to the present.She stumbled for the bed, falling onto the edge of the mattress.
“It is.” My room. My bed. My wife.
Should I go to her?
I should go to her.
I took a few steps forward but stopped when I saw her stiffen.“Would you like some water?” I asked, my mouth dry as soot.
She looked so small and meek, clasping her hands in her lap before nodding.