“Lady Thomley and I overheard the earl tell the queen to get rid of me the other night,” I tell him. “She said I had to be quiet and not tell anyone what I’d heard because the earl is dangerous.”
“Aye, he is,” Rhys says, now more alert than ever. “And it’s Dowager Queen. She’s no’ in rule.”
“Yes, she protected me then and I thought she was a friend, but when I came out of the restroom stall, I couldn’t find my lipstick. It was missing.”
“What does all of this have to do with your allergy?” Rhys asks.
Frustration wells up inside me and threatens to boil over but I struggle to get the words out. My body is still betraying me. “She lent me her lip gloss but after I used it, my lips started to burn. When I asked her whatwas in it, she said it was a rare bee venom, and then she left me to die.”
Rhys watches me intently, holding deadly still as he does. For what, I don’t know, but when he decides something in his own mind, he moves again.
“I’m afraid I have bad news after all, hen,” he says, gripping my hand in his.
“What’s that?”
“This means war.”
“No!” I gasp and try to tear my hand out of his, but he won’t let me.
“Aye,” he says softly. “You have to listen to me, hen. We cannot let this attack go without consequences.”
“But it’s too dangerous,” I try to explain. “Why aren’t you listening to me?”
Hot tears roll down my cheeks as I plead with my new husband. Why is he so intent on taking my safety for granted? This is my life we’re talking about. These people won’t rest until I’m dead.
“I am listening to you,” he says. “I’ve always known that this situation was precarious—”
“Precarious, my ass,” I snap.
“Aye and what a lovely arse it is.”
“This is my life we’re talking about here, my safety, and you’re playing games that could get me hurt,” I plead.
“No,” he says. “I’d never let them.”
“These people won’t rest until I’m dead. Can’t yousee that?”
“Aye, but I won’t let them.”
“And how will you do that?” I ask.
“They can’t kill you if I kill them first,” he says with deadly calm. “No one, and I mean bloody no one, will touch my wife without deadly fucking consequences.”
Chapter 2
Bedtime Stories for Little Girls
Two weeks later…
“Ithink it’s time we talk, hen,” Rhys says from the library doorway.
I’ve spent most of my recuperation time here. The world thinks we’re hard at work doing royal family shit, the Golden Serpents think I’m dead and that Rhys and his team are trying to navigate how to explain that and regroup without looking like he killed me. Really, I’m just trying to gain my strength and figure out how to keep myself alive while wrapping my brain around the fact that I’m married to the glorious man who stands across the room from me. So I’ve been secreting myself away from prying eyes in this room. Honestly, I could probably live here and never leave. It’s really ideal.
I bite my lip and nod hesitantly.
Rhys holds his hand out for me to take. It’s now or never. No more hiding, so I steel myself by pulling in a deep breath and rolling my shoulders back as I move across the floor to where he waits patiently for me. He is my husband after all…
His warm hand wraps protectively around mine as he pulls open the door and leads me down the hallway, back toward our bedroom. After my almost-assassination, I was swept away to a smaller country estate that was bequeathed to Rhys when his grandmother died. Because it’s not on the roster of properties owned by the Royal Trust, but instead privately owned, he and his advisors hoped no one would look for me here.