The first ti my phone alarm rang out, I was too weak to even acknowledge it, too weak to even tap the snooze button. My body sank deeper into the warmth of the sheets, my limbs heavy, my mind sluggish, unwilling to yield to the shrill call.
The second ti, I burrowed deeper into Raul’s embrace—Raul, who had sneaked into my room minutes after my family had left. His chest was steady against my back, his arm lazily thrown across , the faint rise and fall of his breathing a dangerous lullaby that coaxed to ignore the world outside.
The third ti, I would have maybe thrown the phone to the farthest corner of the room, but a knock sounded on my door, breaking the consideration to pieces.
I was late for my eting with the Queen.
I raised my head, groggy with sleep, and searched with eyes closed, my hand fumbling across the sheets for my phone. When I found it, I lifted it closer to my face, my eyes clearing sowhat, my head becoming still when I noted the ti.
5:30 a.m.
Shit! I should have been with the Queen at 4 a.m. That was the ti we had agreed on before parting ways the previous day.
Cussing softly, I started to get out of the bed, but Raul’s hand curved around my midriff and held tighter to himself.
"Raul..." I called out lightly, tapping his arm. "You have to let go."
Yet he wouldn’t budge, so I slapped him with magic—one that singed his cheek just enough to bolt him upright like a dead man jolted to life with a defibrillator.
"What the hell, Sage!" His voice cracked in disbelief as his hand flew to his face.
I shrugged and got out of the bed. "I’m already late for the morning eting with your mom, and you wouldn’t let go. That left no choice..."
He said nothing, only palming his cheek with one hand and staring at with unreadable emotions flashing across his eyes. The chief? Disbelief.
Was the slap too hard? It was just a minuscule magic.
"You should head to your room," I said, already forgetting the mont, already going into the bathroom without checking who was knocking.
It was a servant, I knew. There was no need to waste the precious ti I had checking in with the latter. It would be needed for a hasty bath.
But when I ca out from the bathroom, Raul was still on the bed, still in the sa position.
I sighed, going to my wardrobe. "You are still here? What are you waiting for?"
"You don’t treat well, Sage. And I don’t like that. I am not Adam or his brothers. I didn’t drive you to almost death."
My hands paused their activities of looking for a comfortable cloth. "Get out."
"And if I don’t?"
Raul being hotheaded? Was it because we were in the palace? Did he think that I wouldn’t treat his misdeanor because of it, because here I was his bride-to-be, ant to accord so level of respect to him?
"If you don’t, I will break the engagent."
He scoffed and got out of the bed. "You won’t, because you need it for the revenge you have been concocting in your head for six years."
I chuckled, crazily, finally turning to et his sad gaze—sadness that almost washed my anger away. "You really think that? Do you want to test it out?"
He sighed, looking away when I let the towel drop to the ground.
What? Now he couldn’t behold the nakedness that drove him crazy with need?
"I just wish you will love , Sage. I really have no qualms about being used as a tool, as a ans to an end, but at least accord so respect, so dignity."
Another tired sigh, and he started toward the door to my surprise.
"I am sorry. And you are right." I said, hands on my waist.
He stopped walking, shifted on his feet, and turned around finally. "Do you an that, or you are just saying what you think I want to hear..."
Did it matter? Just take the apology and let everything go.
"Yes. It’s the truth."
He smiled, his steps hurried as he covered the distance between us.
Tada boy.
He lifted from the floor, our laughs mixing together, and carried back into the bathroom.
Well, the Queen could wait another hour, her son was a hungry lion after all.
–
Monts later I was ushered into the palace.
The outer court spread out before like a painting drawn to intimidate. Tall marble columns lined the entrance, gleaming faintly; columns which bore carvings of winged beasts, their eyes set with stones that caught stray light and sparkled like watchful stars.
The air was crisp and faintly scented with incense, a deliberate attempt to mask the earthy tang of the guards who patrolled the grounds.
I noticed the servants moving about the outer court quietly, so carrying baskets of fruit, others jugs of wine, others buckets of water still steaming from the kitchens.
Their gazes slid toward , quick, sharp, and then away, as if they dared not linger on my face. So whispered as they passed, their words too hushed to catch, but the ripple of curiosity followed like a cloak.
Crossing the outer court, I reached the great bronze doors that separated it from the inner court. The doors were massive, etched with runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light, old magic woven into tal.
Two guards stood on either side, spears crossed until I approached. Their eyes flicked to , then to each other, and after a silent exchange, they stepped aside, the doors opening with a deep groan.
The inner court was warr, richer, the scent of roses and sandalwood wrapping around imdiately. Here the marble floor glead brighter, streaked with veins of gold that caught the lantern flas and scattered them in shards of light.
A fountain stood at the center, its waters cascading down from the mouth of a lion carved in white stone, splashing into a pool where lily pads floated lazily. The sound of the water was soothing, but also deceptive—covering hushed conversations at the corners of the hall.
Nobles were present even at this hour, their cloaks heavy with jewels, their eyes sharp as they took in my arrival. So pretended disinterest, while others let their gazes linger, asuring, calculating.
I walked on, however, toward the dais, my steps echoing lightly, my hands brushing against the soft folds of my robe. Servants bowed as I passed, though their faces were unreadable masks of obedience.
It was then that a guard stepped forward, armored in gold-plated steel, his face half-hidden beneath a crested helm. He thumped the butt of his spear against the floor, the sound sharp enough to still so of the murmurs around us.
"The Queen will et you in her chamber," he said, his voice deep and steady.
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