Maris touched my arm. “Where are you going?”
“I fear that I might not be quite recovered from the fall I took earlier,” I said, referencing the excuse I had given for my appearance. I didn’t know what excuse Chasan had given for his appearance, but no one had pressed me on the fact that I looked like I’d tangled with a tree wolf. Standing, I turned my attention to the king, who was now looking at me intently. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”
“Retiring already, Prince Fowler?”
“Yes, I’m not feeling quite myself.”
“By all means, rest. We wouldn’t have you sicken on us again. My daughter has her heart set on a wedding next week.”
I inclined my head. “Of course, Your Majesty. I would not want to disappoint her.”
“As well you should not.” The king wore a smile, but the threat was implicit.
It was a threat I would think about on my walk back to my chamber, my hands opening and clenching at my sides as it festered inside me.
He thought he had me—and Luna. Two whipped puppies under his control.
He would be wrong, and I would show him just how wrong he was.
TWENTY-SIX
Luna
I LISTENED AS Fowler left, his tread fading to a dull beat over the stone floor of the great hall. I fought the wild need to call him back. It was better if he wasn’t here right now. I knew that. I felt his anger and knew he was close to snapping.
Still knowing that, it took everything in me not to call Fowler back. If he had not left when he did, he could have lost the fragile trust he had established with Tebald.
I was not marrying Tebald, but I couldn’t declare that. I had to keep that truth bottled up inside. I needed to keep my composure and suffer this meal, suffer Tebald and his roaming fingers.
My heart thumped furiously in my chest. My head buzzed, the king’s announcement running over and over in my mind. He intended to marry me.
After Fowler’s departure, conversation revived in the hall. I turned my head left and right, taking it all in. My eyes burned but no tears fell. I squared my shoulders, pulling them back, reminding myself that I was strong. I had survived so much. I would survive this, too.
I lasted through dessert. Tebald attempted to feed me a candied date and I couldn’t tolerate it any longer. I pushed up from my chair. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. All the excitement has tired me. It’s not every day a king proposes, after all. I’m quite . . . overwhelmed.” Somehow I didn’t choke on the lie.
“Of course, my dear.” He reached out and grabbed me with one of his hard, square hands. He tugged me down, his grip pinching my skin. I winced, my shoulder joint straining.
His lips brushed my cheek, his beard, as coarse as the bristles of a paintbrush and with the faint odor of rancid meat, prickling my skin. “I may not have won your mother all those years ago, but I shall have you.”
Revulsion bubbled through me. His hand squeezed tighter and I whimpered. His breath came hard against my face, putrid and hot on my skin. He was excited at my pain.
I had to get away. “I look forward to that.” In that moment, I would have said anything.
I twisted my arm until I managed to free myself. Rubbing where he had gripped me, I gathered up a fistful of my skirts and hurried along the back of the dais.
I charged ahead, mindful of the steps leading down from the platform. By now I knew the route to my chamber by heart. No one stopped me. They let me go, and that, perhaps, filled me with the bleakest fear of all.
They thought I could do nothing. They thought I had nowhere to go. Deep down, I was starting to fear they were right. Maybe I was never leaving here.
The night was silent. My maid had come and gone after brushing my hair and helping ready me for bed as though it wasn’t something I’d done for myself countless times. As though this were any ordinary night and not the first night of my death. Marrying Tebald would be a living death. The thought of marrying Chasan had been bad enough. But Tebald? I shuddered.
I crossed my hands over my stomach, willing sleep to come. Somehow I didn’t think I would ever sleep well or fully in this place. Especially after tonight. The memory of Tebald’s touch, his words . . . how could I stay here when this place made me feel like my own skin didn’t fit my body? I preferred the Outside with all its dangers to this.
My bedchamber door creaked open and I lurched upright, heart pounding. My mind leaped to where I’d left my bow and how quickly I could get to it. After this evening’s shock, I fully expected my late-night visitor to be Tebald.
“Luna.” At Fowler’s hushed voice I sagged with relief.
“Fowler,” I cried, and then caught myself, dropping my voice. “You shouldn’t be here,” I hissed.
He crossed the room and closed his hands over my arms. “Get changed. Where are your shoes? Your boots? You can’t go Outside in slippers. You’ll tear them to shreds in minutes.”