“The one who blessed you as a babe, dear girl. That’s why you look like the queen of fairies.”
Mina remembered how she’d laughed at being called the queen of fairies. Her nurse was taken away not long after that, replaced by strict tutors to prepare her for her role as a proper queen when she was married off to Prince Marius. Steward Thorwald had told her from a young age that she was promised to the youngest Varis prince. Only then would she become queen.
Glancing at Mikhail at her side, who’d remained aloof since their encounter at the stream, she thought of what he’d told her at Wentworth Hall. He’d declared she was heir to the throne of Arkadia. Why had she never thought to claim the throne for her own? She knew why. She’d been the meek, dutiful princess, awaiting the day she’d be passed from one man’s care to another. Never had she even once considered the fact that it was her right to demand her claim.
“Are you all right?” Mikhail asked, those all-seeing eyes catching her change in mood.
“No. I’m not, actually.” Her blood pumped hard and hot in her veins. The wind gusted through the naked branches above them, knocking limbs together fiercely, as if the forest sensed her ire.
“What is it?” She felt his intense scrutiny, heightened by the deep timbre of his voice. “Tell me.”
Tears stung her eyes. It was so sudden and overwhelming that it caught her unaware. She sucked in a deep breath to keep from sobbing, then stopped beneath one of the towering black oak trees. She knelt and fumbled with her laces.
“My boot laces are loose,” she murmured, needing an excuse to pull her emotions in check. They never whirled out of control this way. She pulled on her laces forcefully, anger making her actions jerky and fumbling.
“Go on,” she heard Mikhail tell the others, sensing they’d all stopped when she did. “We’ll be along soon.”
He knelt before her and placed his hands atop hers, where she was yanking so hard she nearly broke the laces.
“Let me,” he coaxed gently.
She settled back onto her other foot curled beneath her. She swiped the back of her hand across one cheek, then the other, hiccoughing on a shaky sigh. Mikhail didn’t say a word. Slowly, he unwound the now-knotted laces with long, agile fingers. He tightened, then looped, then double-knotted with slow precision, focusing his attention on her foot. Not on her.
She realized he was giving her a moment to gather herself together. This rough and broody and lethal captain was being as gentle with her as with a kitten. When finished, he placed both hands around her ankle, cradling her foot with firm hands, the heat of him seeping through the leather boot.
“There, now.” Finally, he met her gaze, his expression serene. “Tell me what has caused you pain.”
He was pleading with her, not asking. His brows lifted in quiet patience.
“I am such a fool,” she admitted, the shame of it making her squeeze her eyes shut a moment, trying to stop a fresh well of tears. No good.
He lifted one of those perfect hands and brushed the roughened pad of his thumb across her cheek.
“You are no such thing.” His usually commanding, even domineering, timbre rumbled soft, as if coaxing a timid mare to his hand.
“I am. You mentioned last night that I would one day be queen. The truth is, I should have been a true leader to my people long ago. Why have I never demanded that position? The steward was to safeguard the throne till I was of age. I’ve been of age for quite some time. Yet, I never even thought of stepping up and leading my people.” She gritted her teeth for a moment, then let out a disgusted exhale. “Actually, that’s not true. I had thought of it once. About a year ago, I mentioned it to Steward Thorwald, but he told me it was best to wait till I was married to Prince Marius, then we would ascend together. And I just accepted it. As if I wasn’t good enough, strong enough to lead on my own.” She let her chin drop, staring at her fingers in her lap, twisting the fabric of her skirt. “I suppose I’m not.”
He trailed those long fingers around her neck and lifted her chin with his thumb.
“Listen to me, Mina.” The dominance was back in his velvet-dark voice. “You are far stronger than you know. Did you realize that less than half the vampires put into a bloodless sleep actually survive imprisonment for even a week? It’s not the starvation that kills them. It’s the dark isolation. Those who do survive awaken unhinged, their minds broken.”
He squeezed his fingers at her nape, brushing his thumb over her cheek once more. A fervent look hardened his features as he swept his gaze over her face.
“You not only survived for months, you came out whole.” He shook his head, a sharp sound of disbelief escaped him. “Not just whole.” He cupped the other side of her face, keeping her gaze locked on him as if what he said now was of the utmost importance. “You came out stronger, fiercer, more alive and more brilliant than the Northern Star.”
A wave of adoration enveloped her entire body, humming with heat directly from Mikhail. She’d not felt this emotion directed at her in all her life. Not with such intensity and certainty. Her chin quivered, but she bit her lip to keep from making a sound.
“Lesser men have died having endured what you did. But not you. No, not you.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper, as if he were almost speaking to himself, not to her. “You bring me to my knees with the strength that is inside you. A woman whose external beauty is nothing compared to the powerful goddess who resides within. Ascend your throne?” He brushed the pad of his thumb across her quivering lip. “Oh, Mina.” He shook his head, like a man lost. “You already are a queen.”
She wanted to weep again for such lovely words that no one, not a single soul, had ever spoken to her. It was a gift. A greater gift than luxurious silk or jewels or lands or castles. One that couldn’t be bought with gold. It was acknowledgment that she was worth more than what others had seen in her. The steward, the lords, the Legionnaires who’d orbited around her for her entire life, keeping her sheltered, keeping her helpless. They’d seen the little princess whose only worth was tied to the husband she could buy for the kingdom. Mikhail cut them all down in a single conversation, wiping them away with one stroke.
This man. This beautiful, fierce warrior wasn’t simply tugging on her primal impulses anymore. He was tugging on her heart. As if he heard her thoughts, those otherworldly eyes widened a fraction before he let her go quickly and stood. He held out a hand to help her up while glancing up the trail.
“We’d better go.”