Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I’m so surprised by his words—which echo my own earlier thoughts—I can’t speak. Queen Virelda seems surprised and angered too. I get the feeling that Xaren doesn’t often speak to her like this. Or maybe he just doesn’t speak to her at all. I know I wouldn’t, if she was my mother.
“You…you…you cannot speak for the girl!” she exclaims at last. “You have no right to tell her what she can eat!”
“Neither do you.” Xaren glares at her. “From now on, Elaina can eat what she fucking well chooses. You’re going to be her Mother-in-law—not her jailer.”
It’s clear from the angry look on her face that the Queen would like to fight about this some more. But a glance at the Court shows that every Noble in the Citadel has fallen silent. All of them are staring with wide eyes, hanging on every word. They live for gossip and Royal intrigue and she and Xaren have just given them enough for a whole week’s worth of speculation.
“Oh…very well,” she snarls at last. “Let her eat like a pig until she doesn’t fit into her wedding gown! Why should I care?”
Once more, I feel humiliated. I put down my fork…but to my surprise, Xaren picks it up and puts it back in my hand.
“Eat,” he murmurs, his voice pitched low for my ears only. Through the midnight hair covering the left side of his face, I see his left eye glowing golden flames. “Eat and don’t mind any of them,” he tells me. “They’re a bunch if shallow idiots.”
I’ve honestly lost my appetite but his look is so intense, I take at least one more bite. Xaren watches me chew and nods approvingly.
It occurs to me, now that I’m looking at him up close, that the right side of his face is quite handsome. He has thick black brows, a strong, straight nose, and his right eye is a deep, midnight blue that’s almost black. He also has surprisingly long lashes for a man. If it wasn’t for his broad shoulders and huge, muscular form, his face could almost be considered pretty.
Not that I would ever dare to tell him that.
It makes me think of what he said to me in the stairwell earlier—something about me being afraid that his ugliness would rub off on me. What was he talking about?
What is he hiding behind that curtain of hair that covers the left side of his face?
I know I shouldn’t be wondering such things about my brother-in-law, but I can’t help it. Xaren seems like such an enigma. He’s gruff and rude one minute and protective of me the next. At least he shows some interest in me, which is more than I can say for Prince Dorian, my husband-to-be. He’s been whispering with his friend, Henri, the entire meal. The two of them seem to be really good friends—I wonder if my soon-to-be husband will ever introduce me.
The rest of the banquet passes quickly and as soon as I am able, I rise and excuse myself. No one says anything to me—not even Xaren. He’s gone back to looking bored and disinterested by everything. He doesn’t even look at me as I leave and go back to my room.
I can’t help feeling that I’ll never understand the Dark Prince. But then, it’s not my job to try. I’m marrying his brother, not him. So Xaren and I will have nothing more to do with each other.
Or so I think.
3
ELAINA
“Oh, my Lady! Are you excited for your wedding day tomorrow? Oh, just think how grand everything will be! The decorations and the flowers…the food and the music! Oh, I’ve always wanted to see a Royal Wedding!”
Tanzy, my maid, flitters around the room as she draws my bath, chirping like an excited cricket. She’s a tiny, thin, quick girl a few years younger than me and I like her immensely.
She’s real and genuine in a way the Nobles aren’t. True, she wears her feelings on her sleeve and blurts out everything she thinks, but she does it in such an adorable way, I can’t be mad or irritated.
“Yes, well…I suppose it’s exciting,” I say, as I hand her my robe and lower myself into the steaming tub. The water is scented with rose petals—a nice touch. I love the subtle scent it leaves on my skin.
“You suppose it’s exciting?” Tanzy’s eyes go wide. “Why, my Lady—tomorrow you’ll be a princess. A real-live princess! And then one day, since you’re marrying the Crown Prince, you’ll be the Queen.”
“Yes, well…I doubt that will be any time soon,” I say dryly. Though King Harrow has white hair, his wife is much younger. I can’t see Queen Virelda giving up her place to a “Northern peasant” as I heard her calling me to one of her ladies-in-waiting, anytime soon.