by Lisa Kumar
“No, I’ve watched you over the centuries, so minding Maggie shouldn’t try me too much.”
“Oh, trust me, she can be much worse than I ever was.” Talion smirked and clapped Avrin on the shoulder. “But regardless, I’m counting on you to keep her safe.”
Chapter 19
Maggie walked by Avrin’s side, with Cal and Relian in front. Talion led the procession down the sloping path, his guard fanning out around them.
Maggie bit her lip. Why was she walking with the royal family and their trusted advisor? Shouldn’t she be waiting with the huge crowd assembled below? And talking about their audience—the throng had spread out like a blanket across two clearings and the town. Soft music floated on the air, and the tantalizing aroma of food mixed with the scent of fall flowers tickled her nostrils. Damn, there had to be thousands of elves within the town gates.
The party she and Cal had crashed when they landed in Eria had been teeny-tiny in comparison. Ah, the good, old days before she was the secret Queen of Fairyland. But to be truthful, she’d felt an extreme awareness the moment her gaze landed on Talion. Like her life would never be the same. He’d always made her feel as if he could see right through her, which was something no woman liked.
At least he was over his anger about the marketplace incident and back in her bed where he belonged. Well, sometimes she was in his bed or on some other surface, but that was semantics. All that mattered was he still knew how to set her body on fire, sometimes multiple times a night. After they sated themselves, they’d cuddle and talk. Okay, more like bicker half the time, but that was a form of intimacy to them. And before sex, their bantering served as rousing foreplay. Desire hummed through her veins at the remembrance.
But as much as she loved their volley of one-up-man-ship, the serious conversations had snuck into her heart and rooted there. She realized how much Talion’s dynamic personality called to her and how much insight into him she got from the bond. The intimacy unnerved her and not just because of the obvious—that he could see into her—but because of how vulnerable she felt by seeing into him. He might be strong-willed—in fact he needed to be because of his position—but he also harbored deep love and dedication to his people. Plus, he fought to ensure everyone in his kingdom had a decent life, which was no easy feat considering the monarchy placed a lot of governing power in the hands of its lords and ladies.
Sometimes, she found herself trusting him. It was so easy to slip into that mode. Should she rely on him, though? Emotions seemed messy and better avoided. For her, their relationship had reached the optimum level—intimate in many ways but guarded in others. But if it went any further, it would be entering dangerous territory.
She snorted to herself. Who the hell was she kidding? It had entered dangerous territory too many times to count.
With a slight frown, she turned her mind from this disturbing thought. No need to ruin a nice day.
She glanced at Talion’s striding form. Did he know how sexy his walk was? His slight swagger caused her heart to thud against her ribs. The festival must not be a formal occasion, because he’d wore a tailored knee-length tunic over tight leggings and not one of his fancier over robes. The silvery fabric of his shirt hugged him from shoulder to his very squeezable butt. She licked her lips. To think it was hers. All hers, just like the rest of his magnificent body.
They neared the clearing, and she drew her thoughts away from sensual delights. No need to look all flushed and bothered, especially when she couldn’t do anything about it. As if reading her mind, Cal glanced over her shoulder, flashed a smile, and mouthed, “Ready for the show?”
“Not on your life,” Maggie muttered and turned her attention to the people assembled below. Her first good look revealed elegantly dressed lords and ladies at the front of the crowd. Alalise and her brother stood in the middle of the auspicious group. Maggie scowled. Just what she needed—to see Ms. Fashion Doll. Still, why was Maggie not down there? Maybe Talion wanted to give her a taste of what would be expected of her as queen. Pretty smart of him, but not cool at all. She hated being left in the dark and preferred to know everything beforehand, something which had been sorely lacking in her relationship with Talion.
But she had the feeling this was all part and parcel of being his queen. There were no guidebooks to make everything easier, only advisors and tutors who tended to further complicate matters. Not that it took much in her case, and her training hadn’t even officially begun. The thought of politics scared the crap out of her. And as for being a lady and learning the etiquette? Yeah, not looking forward to it. But she didn’t have a choice.
Anyway, even if she could leave, she’d miss her “alone” time with Talion. She’d miss…him. Not to mention the way he could inflame her anger and desire with one word or look. Really, that was a talent no man had ever held over her. And this power excited, exhilarated, and frightened her like nothing else. The same three emotions filled her at the thought of becoming queen and ruling the kingdom at his side.
Talion led the way up a platform that took center stage. Yay, let the training begin. Though she was outgoing, she wasn’t used to being watched by so many people, not to mention almost perfect elves—elves who weren’t exactly fans of humans. Such an audience could give anyone an inferiority complex. She had to give props to Cal. Her introverted friend handled herself like a true princess. Now the only thing remained to be seen: would Maggie fall flat on her face when her turn to act all royal arrived?
As they piled onto the varnished-wood platform, the crowd, along with the musicians, quieted. Talion swept his gaze over the mass assembled below him and spoke. “Beloved Erians, welcome to the Harvest Festival. We are pleased to announce all those who are here made it to Eriannon safely and with few mishaps.”
A cheer arose. Talion smiled, as calm looking and urbane as Maggie had ever seen him. He waited until the noise died and continued his speech. “Let this be a time to lay aside all worries and to rejoice in a strong harvest that will feed our people through the winter.”
With the force of a strong gale, the words from the lady in the marketplace echoed through her mind. A cool breeze blew through the clearing, and it shivered down her spine. Everything around her took on a surreal haze. A shake of the head did nothing to relieve the affliction, so she retreated inward to try to ground herself.
But she couldn’t escape the truth, and it hit her like a punch to the gut—this was a land at war. That fact had been easy to overlook because, for the most part, she’d seen little evidence of it. Only once had she seen a darkindred, and this had been in the relative safety of the palace courtyard. He’d been shot down before he could complete his mad dash toward Relian and Talion. The memory of that day still haunted her, and had been her first intimate glimpse of death.
As queen she’d have no choice but to deal with the grim realities of bloodshed and violence. Nausea swirled in her stomach. She wasn’t cut out for this. Her head felt like it hovered feet above her neck. If only she could really float away.
But escape was impossible, and her reality lay in Eria. She gulped in a deep breath. So what if she wasn’t ready, because who really was? Had Talion been when he took over the crown? Sure, he would’ve been groomed for it from a young age, but could anything truly prepare a person for the shoulder-crushing responsibility?
Somehow she doubted anything but hands-on experience would prove beneficial. Too bad she had none. And here was one of her first tastes of it, and what was she doing but rattling around in her own mind? Yeah, Maggie, great way to gain much needed experience.
She ripped herself out of her preoccupation and stuffed it into the background of her consciousness, where it belonged. When her senses sharpened back to the present, silence met her ears. Everyone seemed to be waiting expectantly for…something.
Avrin grabbed her arm, and she raised a surprised brow at him. An uncharacteristic look of apprehension covered his face. What was he doing? Surely, she hadn’t looked that out of i
t? He leaned over and whispered, “You haven’t been listening, have you?”
Listening? To what? Talion had been talking about the harvest. Not knowing what to say, she shook her head.
“Talion is soon to make an announcement.”
“So?” Maggie frowned. She was missing something, but what?
His grip on her tightened. “Just stay here.”
Where else would she go? She pursed her lips and studied him, not sure how to handle this new Avrin. Especially in front of thousands of on-looking people.
Her gaze sought out Talion. He should know what was going on. As if feeling her stare, he glanced over his shoulder and shot her an unreadable look that did nothing to quail her unease.
Talion’s strong voice rang out across the clearing. “And the last tidings I’ve hinted at are the most joyous, I believe. Lady Margaret”—he held out a hand—“join me, please.”
Her previous disquiet exploded into downright dread and horror. Oh no, he didn’t.... He better not…. Her feet rooted to the ground, even though her body swayed with the urge to flee.
Talion turned sideways and motioned to her imperiously. The slightly pleading expression in his eyes stood in contrast against the hard planes of his face.
She shook her head, shifting away from him.
“Maggie,” he said softly. “It is time.”
Betrayal and panic flooded her. It wasn’t time. She still had a month. He’d promised. “No.” She inched backward.
Talion took a step toward her. She stumbled until her back hit Avrin. Her gaze remained fixed on Talion, even as she contemplated the idea of mowing Avrin down in her wild flight to safety.
Apparently, Avrin knew her too well because he placed a staying hand on her shoulder. She knew he’d grab her tight if she tried to bolt. With a few steps, Talion closed the distance between them. He pulled her forward, and she had no choice but to go unless she wanted to cause a scene. Other than a few murmurs, their audience remained quiet.
He anchored her firmly to his side and slid his hand into hers. Her face flamed. The way he touched her left little doubt about the familiarity of their relationship. All gazes were on the king—and by extension of that—on her.
She yearned to deck him and disappear. He’d broken her trust, and it wasn’t something she gave easily. But the worst part was the ache in her chest. To think she’d nearly given him her heart— No. She’d given him nothing but her body. And her loyalty and her trust, which he all but flushed down the crapper. And for what? To make a point he controlled the relationship?
Pride kept her glued to the stage because she could’ve broken his hold. A well-placed jab to his groin area would’ve done the trick. But even she hesitated to humiliate him that way, though it was so tempting. If this was the first official day of her being queen, she sure as hell would pull it off with some finesse. And that meant not kicking the king in the nuts.
“People of Eria, please welcome my bond mate and your new queen.” He paused. “Queen Margaret.”
She cringed. God, she hated her real name. And she hated being called queen. The crowd didn’t seem to react much better. Gasps, whispers, and a few noises of outrage reached her. Yeah, they loved the news as much as she did. Apparently, nothing was greater than being a human elvin queen.
Someone clapped, startling her. Slowly applause built until it threatened to pound against Maggie’s head like the sound of a jackhammer. She forced a smile to her face. Talion had probably planted someone in the crowd to start the clapping frenzy. She’d play along—for now. Because, honestly, she couldn’t see any benefit to beating the shit out of him in public, where his guard would stop her before she could land a good, strong kick to his manhood.
Rage smoldered underneath her skin. Lava had replaced the blood in her veins. She tightened her grip and dug her fingernails into the fleshy part of his palm. He flinched. A surge of satisfaction hit her. But he kept a pleasant expression on his face, and her upwelling of gratification quickly died. She would kill him. Yep. In the most painful way imaginable. Skin him alive. Flay him. There were so many options. She maintained her composure for the next half hour by plotting the possible deaths of the fucking bastard—aka the elvin king.
Talion drew her down to the crowd, where he introduced her to a dizzying array of people. During that time, fakeness was her name, which was sure as hell better than Margaret. She smiled and nodded, and greeted everyone who came before her until she feared her cool would blow. But when it did, she wanted no one but Talion to bear the full brunt of it.
A deep breath in and out—that became her mainstay until they were in private, and she could go all Mt. Maggie on his butt. With every intake and exhale, she watched her human life disintegrate like tissue down a toilet. Her near-completed college degree, her carefree lifestyle, her dreams of being a high school music teacher while dabbling in the theater scene—all gone. But what frightened and pissed her off the most was that she was publically leg shackled to someone who couldn’t care less about her feelings. He’d lied to her!
Finally, he must have decided she’d had enough because he made their excuses, saying she needed to rest. Normally, such a chauvinistic response would’ve pissed her off, but he’d already filled her piss-o-meter to full.
But once on the winding trail up to the palace, she shook her elbow free of his hold and stalked away. Her guard followed her. Talion wisely made no effort to catch up to her. Smart man. He valued his life—and his dangly bits.
Her hands fisted. She needed to calm down, and then and only then, would they have it out. But something told her that calmness would be an elusive quality to find and the ache in her chest would only grow.
***
Talion stared blindly at the mural on the wall. The chair behind his desk sat empty. Mountains of paperwork called to him, but he couldn’t force himself into stillness.
Though he’d returned from the Harvest Festival hours ago, the image of Maggie’s hurt and furious face still remained indelibly etched in his mind. Nothing could dislodge it. He’d tried drink, but found he had no liking for it at the moment. Banging his head against his desk hadn’t yielded any better results.
He knew he’d have to discuss his actions with her, but confronting her now seemed...unwise. Better to leave her alone for a while. Though some might consider that cowardly, he preferred to see it as a levelheaded decision.
He’d had to acknowledge her, by the Powers of Eria. Her life was in danger, and that was…unacceptable. Informing her of the danger hadn’t worked, because she refused to accept reason or see past…past her own hurts and insecurities, for which he couldn’t fault her. He’d done little to ease them. But the reveal had to be done. The darkindred roamed and threatened. They were at war, and the mist certainly seemed as if it planned on involving his new queen far more deeply than he preferred.
Whether she realized it or not, she’d captured his heart. She revived his mind and soul like nothing or nobody else could. A future without her would be dismal at best, and at worst, insanity and death would take him, which was the most likely option upon her death without her soul grounding his to reality.
Stooping slightly, he slapped his hands against the smooth wood of his desk. The vibrations traveled through his arms, and he lowered his head. He wouldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.
A commotion sounded in the hallway, and he straightened. Before he had time to think upon the cause, the door slammed open, and a wild-eyed Maggie stood in the entrance.
Talion sucked in a ragged breath. Any hope that she’d calmed down died. His kitten was angry and rightly so. He’d have to make sure she didn’t scratch him too badly.
She stomped to him and stopped a few feet away. Her skin was flushed as if fury simmered beneath it. “How could you? Like that? I could kill you, Talion, you rat bastard.”
Her insult stung, though she’d called him such before. The appellation felt more deserved this time, though, and her voice held a hint of coldness he’
d never heard from her.
Maybe if he admitted his wrongdoing, she’d be quicker to forgiveness. “I know I didn’t keep my side of the bargain.”
A growl rumbled from her throat. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“You have my sincerest regrets.” The words stuck in his throat. He hated apologizing and usually avoided it at all costs. As king, he gave orders, and people followed them. It was a testament to his love—and guilt—that he forced himself to continue speaking. “If I had any other choice, I would have never made the announcement without your knowledge and agreement.”
Her brows lowered. “No choice?”
“There have been certain security breaches and threats, as you know. The only way I saw to handle them successfully and protect you was to claim you as my queen.”
She stomped her foot. “How would telling everyone about our bond protect me? Wouldn’t that put me in more danger? And why didn’t you tell me all this?”
“I did try, but you wouldn’t hear of moving up the date. I know you’d more than likely continue protesting, no matter the risk to you.” He shook his head. “The dissenters think to use you against me. Someone in that group knows of our bond and is seeking to destroy it. Our bond had to be acknowledged, and it was much better for us to do so than the enemy. Plus, now that I’ve claimed you as queen, you’ll share my quarters and have your own royal guard.”
“I already have a guard, and I won’t share your quarters. Hell, I don’t even want to be in the same palace as you. Anyway, like I said, my trio of guys is enough for me.”
A disbelieving laugh worked its way up his throat. “Maggie, haven’t you noticed how many sentries lurk in the royal wing? They’re all part of my guard. And this holds true for whatever other vicinity I may be in. Three warriors can never protect you the way a whole force could.”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times. “I saw the sentries. Guess I thought they were for show.”
