The Cruel Fae King: A Sexy Fantasy Romance Series (The Cursed Kingdoms Series Book 1)

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The Cruel Fae King: A Sexy Fantasy Romance Series (The Cursed Kingdoms Series Book 1) Page 11

by A. K. Koonce


  It’s such a bizarrely calm conversation we’re having.

  “I am not competing for his heart.” I roll my eyes. My fingers move on their own accord, firmly gripping the chair beneath me until it groans from the pressure.

  “That’s good, because I wasn’t planning on letting you win.” Gently, she places her hands on my shoulders. “All done with your hair.”

  At least she isn’t openly sabotaging me by doing my hair poorly. It’s simple and clean and done in a way that I might selected on my own. I twist to get a better look at each side, not fully trusting that she didn’t do something terrible with the back. Upon further examination, I give her a nod, then lift my chin so she can apply color to my cheeks and lips.

  My eyes meet hers, and we stare at one another for a long moment.

  “There are some games where no one is a winner, Aisha,” I whisper with a flashing, cruel smile

  She’ll soon find out I’m not someone who lies down and dies. I’m not someone who doesn’t fight to win. Even if the prize isn’t something I want. Very much…

  “Well, it’s about that time. I’ll be leaving,” she says in a small voice.

  “You’re dismissed,” I tell her with that same slashing smile that I don’t really feel, hoping the words encourage her to disappear from my presence sooner.

  Her footsteps stumble outside my open door.

  “Oh, good morning, Bear,” she sings.

  Abruptly, I stand up from my chair, listening intently to their conversation outside my room. Bear clears his throat. I wonder if he looks at her nicer than he does at me.

  “Hello, Aisha. Is Princess Syren ready?”

  “Oh, yes. She’s dressed. Will you be back from your endeavors for prayer? I would love to join you in the chapel.”

  My lips curl as if chapel is a nasty innuendo.

  Bear seems to consider for a moment before he answers. “Yes, I think so. It would be nice to see you there.”

  Anger pulses through me. I don’t want Bear to love me or to pray with me, but I know without a doubt, I don’t want him to do either of those things with Aisha. Pushing past my chair, I jog to the door and slide it open with an inviting smile.

  “Bear! I can’t wait to see what you have planned for us today.” I slip by Aisha, my fingers gripping Bear’s flowing white shirt sleeve and pulling him toward me.

  He eyes me with uncertainty as he steps around my handmaiden and into my bedroom. I close the door behind me, pushing my ear to the wood until I hear Aisha walk away.

  “What—I”

  “Ssshhh.” I hold my finger to my lips sternly.

  He closes his mouth, waiting with his hands tucked inside the pockets of his trousers. There’s no sword at his waist, I notice.

  When I’m satisfied that Aisha is no longer lingering in the hall, I turn back to him. Both arms are crossed over his muscular chest, his jaw held tightly together.

  “Did you know she’s still in love with you?” I hiss, pointing an accusing finger at the door as if it was Aisha herself. “Do you love her?”

  “You’re my mate.” He sighs, dropping his hands to his sides.

  “That is not what I asked.” I swing my finger around to point directly at him.

  “No, I do not love her.”

  The pressing annoyance in my chest dissolves at his easy dismissal of my words.

  I don’t know why I believe him so quickly. I can’t explain it, but just his reassurance is enough to calm my soul.

  “Very well.” I say, trying not to look concerned.

  “Are you,” he steps closer, his eyes glinting with mischief, “jealous?”

  “Ha.” I scoff. “Not hardly. She’s not exactly someone a Princess would be jealous of,” I lie so hard through my teeth that my throat burns.

  Because, beautiful women with perfect breasts and alluring smiles are just… not something I’d be jealous of.

  Not at all.

  “Sure.” He nods.

  Bear laughs, but ultimately twirls a strand of my hair between his fingers and drops the subject. His finger skims along the lace over my chest, pausing. Does he feel my pattering heartbeat?

  “And when you smiled at me and threw me into your bedchamber in front of her, what did you intend for her to think?”

  If blinking rapidly is an indication of indignation, then my stuttering blinks are completely outraged.

  “How am I to know what she thinks?” I snap. “She’s about three rocks away from an empty cavern. I doubt she thinks anything at all.”

  His laughter booms between us, his body coming closer until his chest is firmly against mine.

  “You’re sure?” His head tilts, dipping down so his lips are just over mine. “You’re sure you didn’t want her to think that once the door closed, you’d have my body pressed against yours just like this?”

  His lean hips settle against mine, heating me instantly, until everything I feel and everything I breathe is him.

  My heartbeat pounds against my chest and his, but I shake my head at him.

  “Perhaps you wanted her to imagine my mouth exploring your body, starting right here.” His dark eyes hold mine before he leans closer and fans his hot breath against my throat.

  And then his lips seal there, ever so slowly. It’s the slightest brush of his mouth against my skin, but I feel it. I feel it everywhere. I feel it pulse through me. I feel it bloom between my thighs.

  I shove off from the wall and step away.

  He stays there, staring at the wall while I try to figure out where the fuck the air went within this incredibly small room.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask with a mostly steady breath.

  He turns and faces me, presenting false composure. Just like I am.

  “Around,” he says.

  He looks careless. In control. Unaffected by me.

  Except his eyes are dark, and smoldering, and oh-so-hooded.

  His tongue slowly slides across his lips as if he’s still tasting me.

  Then he straightens and offers me his arm.

  Surprisingly, I want to take it. So even more surprisingly, I do.

  His hair remains down, his crown pressing his hair down and making his pointed ears more apparent. The beard that had grown over the days of our journey is only stubble along his jaw. It makes him look younger than his years. He is a young fae king indeed. Sometimes I forget that.

  Bear leads me out the door, down the hall, and through the winding passageways of the castle until the guards open the doors for us to step into the courtyard. Almost immediately, the tasteless smell of burning bodies singes my nostrils.

  “I would like to say you get used to it. But you won't.” Bear shakes his head, stepping down to open the door of a waiting black carriage.

  “You have an awful lot of manners for someone who is such a dick.” I take his warm hand, stepping into the glass top carriage. It’s easy to see this carriage was made for royalty. Red velvet seats under a clear glass dome allow the perfect view. It’s pulled by two perfectly black stallions with big glossy wings.

  They’re the type of creature most often used for leisure, but here they’re being used for their strength, it seems. The winged horses are more durable, and can work, play, and pull for days if you let them.

  Wherever we’re going, we’ll be there in no time.

  “A dick,” he repeats with a scoff. “Your mouth says a lot of wicked things for someone who has a beautiful face.”

  A beautiful face. I hate the smile that creeps across my face. I smooth it immediately.

  I watch him close my door behind me. He has a few words with the coachman, and then walks around the side of the carriage. The door opens, and he lifts himself into the seat across from me with swift ease.

  “You look lovely today,” he says weakly.

  “Really, Bear, when you compliment me, and the words sound like a painful cry. They aren’t really compliments.”

  He rubs his palms together, a couple spa
rks sprouting up like fireworks before sizzling out into ashes that drift onto the carpeted floor. “Forgive me. Most women fawn over me. It’s not often the other way around.”

  “I’ve noticed. Sadly, I don’t swoon so easily. I’m a princess. I see more attractive high fae than the average commoner and turned down many marriage proposals before you swooped in.”

  And crushed my heart . . . not that he crushed my heart . . . My heart’s just fucking fine.

  His chin props against the center of his palm, his pointer finger curling over his stubble before he speaks again. “I assumed your father put you up to it the first time around.”

  “I’m done doing as my father says. I gave up on that a long time ago. No matter the punishment.” I bare my teeth, unable to forget how my father said nothing when I was taken away right in front of him. “I will not bend to his will anymore.” I fold my hands delicately in my lap, crossing my ankles. “I chose you, actually. I remembered this kingdom from visits when I was young. It was beautiful and lively. Full of magic that made your people happy and prosperous. Nothing like it is now.”

  I feel Bear watching me stare out the shining window at the courtyard and the ashy haze outside. Displeasure contorts his features, leaving him with a sour look.

  “You see why I want to marry you, then,” he says.

  “Yes, I see you don’t want to marry, you want to end the cursed plague.”

  “Such a negative way to say it.” He leans forward, his elbows propped against his knees. His crown tips forward, shining under the bright sun. “You get the best kingdom the Union of Fae has to offer. You get a new beginning, far from your careless father. And I’m pretty good-looking, if I do say so myself. That’s not a bad deal any way you spin it.”

  Pretty good-looking. My goddess, is he densely obnoxious!

  A life of misery, chained to a cruel king who doesn’t love me: that, that is what he’s really offering me.

  I don’t bother to hide the roll of my eyes. The carriage passes the shining onyx gate walls, exchanging the green grass for dust and cinders. Trees and brush appear thinner and there is more space between the small shops and open markets.

  More people roam the streets now, cloaks covering their bodies to protect them from the soot and ash. Some people smile and wave cheerfully, others drag along kids who chatter and grin, but everyone we pass seems more positive than the last.

  “I want to show you the capitol. Life here isn’t as bad as it seems.” He tilts his head from side to side. “You just have to forget about the massive amount of death and the constant pollution in the air.”

  I let out a long dramatic cough. “Yes. I’ll just forget about it, I guess.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  Bear keeps his gaze out the window, his expression mildly amused. I follow his gaze, watching the fae and occasionally, a troll or elf, as we pass. The small market gives way to homes that lead into a deep green park. The space seems nicer here than in the town, as if the place where children play should be cleaner. It is. Just barely. We travel under a bridge. Hazy gray fog hides the carriages and wagons passing overhead.

  Beneath the bridge, everything is dark, with the exception of a few fire-lit lamps every so often. I cozy into my seat only to suddenly jerk back to attention. We are emerging from under the bridge, and the bright afternoon sun shines down on a crowd of people. There are banners and flags, jugglers, and high above, tightrope walkers balance. Huge pits of blue fire surround fire fae, who shoot their magical flames high in the sky to illuminate the other performers. Workers shout from small booths: prices for games and food.

  Everything is alive and energetic.

  Smog still obscures the vivid colors to some degree, but even so, it’s absolutely beautiful. People take notice of the royal carriage bouncing its way down the dusty road. Children wave frantically as their parents hoist them onto their shoulders. Some fae bow or remove their hoods at us in passing. Most, however, stare with large gawking eyes and open mouths.

  I give them a small smile, forcing myself to close my own dropping jaw. Occasionally, I wave. I save most of my waves for the children just to watch them hop up and down and cheer at the acknowledgment.

  Happiness still exists here in some form. It’s like a vivid memory of my childhood as I watch families slosh around their warm cups of cider, laughing and cheering among the colorful lights.

  “It’s like holiday all year round,” I say, my fingertips touching to my lips as I watch in awe.

  “Well, not all year round. This is for you.” He waves his hands toward the expanse of celebration.

  “Me?” I raise a curious eyebrow.

  “The people put it together to welcome their new queen. Their Cursebreaker.” Bear intertwines his hands and places them in his lap. “How does that make you feel?”

  “Well, I won't lie. I certainly feel like I deserve to have this sort of welcome. Your charm and kindness aren’t much of a welcome party.”

  “What?” Bear blinks. “You don’t think a dinner party with ominous destinies and death is a good time?”

  “No.” My response is flat.

  “I will,” he clears his throat, “take this moment to apologize for the whole . . . bowing and burning thing.”

  “Go ahead then.”

  “Go ahead?” He raises his dark eyebrows.

  “Yes.” I cross my leg over my other knee and lean forward in anticipation. “Go ahead and apologize.”

  I wait.

  He blinks stupidly.

  “That was the apology.” His arms stretch out on the red velvet fabric on the back of his seat. He looks away with a minimal grin.

  “Bullshit.” I clap my hands together, earning myself a thoroughly disapproving look. “Who taught you to apologize? Because that was shit. Please try again.”

  Slowly, the celebration comes to an end, and the pillars of sparkling fire and commoners in cloaks fade behind us. More official buildings with grand architecture circle a huge fountain.

  “What do you want me to say?” Bear snorts.

  “For starters, maybe ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I apologize’.”

  “I apologize,” he says emotionlessly while looking away.

  “For?” I urge him, waving my hand as if the action might actually pull some decency out of this man.

  “For the bowing and burning and stuff.” He gives me a fake smile. “Happy?”

  “Oh, by the Goddess, I’m thrilled. Ecstatic. Thank you so damn much, Bear.”

  A long huff of pent up air parts his lips.

  I look out the window at a familiar off-white building with huge columns and a pointed archway. The carriage slows, then stops completely. There are no people here.

  I can’t catch any noise outside our carriage other than the trickling of water as it falls from the statue in the middle of the fountain. The statue is a rendering of Goddess Celeste pouring out the waters from her pail into the oceans of the world. Water cascades down a sphere with the continents engraved on it.

  “This building is our embassy. We often hold meetings here with other rulers or larger ruling parties. You probably remember it well. If I recall correctly, your father brought you along often.”

  Yes, I remember. I was never well-behaved enough. This building always, always, meant I was due for a punishment. Because even after all the years of hearing it said to me, and after every punishment being dished out, I was never able to sit still, be quiet long enough, or avoid wandering off to soothe my curiosity.

  I do not like this building. It does not hold the same fondness as the Cursebreaker celebration did. The meetings held here were long and confusing, but Father wouldn’t leave me behind. Not when his absence left room for me to get into more trouble.

  “That building.” Bear points across the way at a towering steeple. Its miniature statues perch on the edges of protruding balconies and its stained-glass windows are bright with color. “That is the chapel. The Chaplain you met last night often comes h
ere to talk with the people.”

  “Where are the people?” I ask.

  “At your celebration.”

  The door to the carriage opens, and leather-skinned coachmen offers me his hand. Gratefully, I accept and step into the frigid breeze. A shiver dances up my spine. Bear steps out behind me, taking in a deep breath and smiling. He places his hands on his hips while he surveys our surroundings.

  Horse hooves clop against the cobblestone platform as the carriage pulls away. I reach my arm out after it.

  “Wait! Where are they going?”

  “They will be back for us soon.” He gives a devilish look, the tilt of his head hiding some of his features in the shadow of the towering chapel. “I’ve got more to show you. Come here.” Bear waves me over to the fountain. It’s so large, it looks more like a small lake.

  “A fresh spring runs into this fountain. The water from here goes out through our plumbing system to the rest of the kingdom. It’s the largest system of water of its kind. It serves our people better than any other kingdom. It’s purer than any other. Put your hand in, feel.”

  I’m waiting for the punchline to his bad joke. So I stare at him a moment before letting the tips of my fingers test the water. The water is hot, like a fresh bath. Wind tosses the skirt of my dress to the side, and I sink my hand in deeper to soak in its warmth.

  The way he’s beaming at me, I can tell he’s proud of this. As he should be. His kingdom has the foundation to be great. It truly does. If it can overcome its curses.

  Magic surges within me, and I twirl a bit of the water between my two palms, sliding it this way and that like a deck of card. I send it shooting into the large expanse of the spring. Wiggling my eyebrows, I reach down and begin unstrapping the tall sandals on my feet.

  Bear watches, but doesn’t speak. I lift my skirt, taking a large step over the edge, and stand in the warmth.

  “Come here.” I curl my pointer finger at him. “Come undo my dress.”

  “What?” Bear holds up both hands at his sides.

  “Come on. It’ll be fun. Take your clothes off. I’ve already seen you mostly naked. You can keep your trousers if that’ll make you feel better.”

 

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