Chapter Nine — The Queen's Invitation
The knock at my chamber door came with the soft urgency of someone trained to be polite but incapable of waiting.
I opened it to find a maid standing there, head bowed, her hands folded tight at her waist.
"Her Majesty requests your presence," she said.
"Requests?" I echoed. "Or commands?"
The maid's gaze flickered upward before she caught herself. "It would be unwise to delay."
Which answered my question.
I followed her through the quieter wing of the palace, our steps softened by the thick carpet that muffled the world. Each turn we took pulled us farther from Kael's presence, and I wondered if that was the point.
The queen's private receiving room was bathed in warm light from a fire, the hearth large enough to stand inside. She sat in a high-backed chair upholstered in pale velvet, her gown the same deep blue as the night sky, dotted with silver embroidery that caught the flames like stars. Her hair — black streaked with silver — was coiled into a coronet braid, and her eyes, so like Kael's in their shape, studied me with cool precision.
"Serenya," she said, gesturing toward the chair opposite her. "Sit."
I obeyed, smoothing my skirts more to buy time than from any need.
"You carry yourself well in court," she said. "Better than I expected."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," I replied, because it was safer than asking what she'd expected instead.
Her gaze sharpened. "You are aware of the position you're being placed in?"
"I'm aware enough to know that it's not simply about marriage."
The faintest smile touched her lips. "Good. Vale's future will rest partly on your shoulders. The nobles will test you — some to measure your worth, others to undermine it. And there are those beyond the palace who would use you to get to Kael."
I tilted my head. "Is that a warning for my safety… or for my loyalty?"
"Both." She leaned forward slightly. "Kael values control above all else. That makes him a formidable ruler — and a dangerous husband. If you wish to survive him, learn when to bend and when to be unmovable. Do you understand me?"
I met her gaze, letting a slow smile edge onto my lips. "So… bend until I can't, and then pray he's not in the mood to snap me in half?"
The queen's brows lifted — surprise, maybe, or amusement. "Precisely."
A pause settled between us, broken only by the crackle of the fire.
"Your family…" she began. "They ruled Vale once, did they not?"
The words landed like a pebble tossed into deep water — small on the surface, but with ripples that could reach far.
"Yes," I said slowly. "Before the crown took it."
"And do you resent that?"
I held her gaze, refusing to answer. Because anything I said could end up in Kael's ears.
The queen's faint smile returned, as if my silence had told her enough. "Go on, then. He'll be looking for you soon."
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I hadn't made it halfway back to my chambers when the soft slap of hurried footsteps echoed behind me.
A maid rounded the corner, cheeks flushed, apron askew. She dipped a quick curtsy.
"My lady—His Highness requests your presence. At once."
Requests. Always a charming word for commands.
The walk to Kael's private study was shorter than I expected — which either meant I'd been brought to him before I could think too much… or before I could refuse.
The door was already open. Kael stood inside, one hand braced on the edge of a large map spread across his desk, the other resting loosely behind his back. The tall windows washed the room in pale light, catching the scarlet of his coat and making his presence impossible to ignore.
"You were with my mother," he said without preamble.
"You knew that?"
His mouth curved faintly. "I know the movements of anyone who matters to me."
"That sounds less like attentiveness," I said, stepping farther into the room, "and more like surveillance."
"Call it what you like," he replied, rounding the desk with unhurried steps. "But it keeps the people I value within reach."
"She wanted to make sure I understood the… expectations of my position."
"Did she tell you to obey her?"
"She told me to obey you."
Kael's gaze locked on mine, reading more than I wanted to give away. "Good. She was right."
He stopped close enough that I had to tilt my head to keep his eyes in view. His hand rose, slow and deliberate, until his fingers brushed a strand of my hair back from my face.
I flinched before I could stop myself — not violently, but enough for his eyes to sharpen.
"Uncomfortable?" he asked.
"I prefer to decide who touches me."
His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Then get used to being uncomfortable."
He took a step forward. I stepped back.
"When we're married," he continued, closing the gap again, "your words, your steps, and yes—your touch—will belong to me. That is the price for standing at my side."
Another step from him, another backward from me. The cool paneling of the wall brushed my spine.
"And if I have my own words?"
His palm pressed lightly against the wall beside my head, boxing me in. His other hand trailed just above my hip, not quite touching — the near-contact making the air between us tighten.
"Choose them carefully," he murmured. "There are ways to keep a sharp tongue… and still live to use it again."
"You make marriage sound less like a union and more like a leash."
"Only for those who pull against it." His voice had dropped to that low, dangerous quiet again, the kind that made the skin at the nape of my neck prickle.
"Tell me, Serenya… will you pull?"
I kept my chin high. "Not unless you give me a reason to."
Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Then his hand finally touched my hip — not gentle, not rough, but possessive enough to make my pulse leap.
"I could find a dozen reasons," he said, his thumb brushing along the curve of my waist before he stepped in closer, his chest nearly brushing mine. "Some you'd hate me for. Some… you might not."
I didn't move, but my body betrayed me — heat climbing into my cheeks even as my mind screamed to push him away.
"Careful, Serenya," he murmured, leaning just close enough that I felt the whisper of his breath along my ear. "If you keep looking at me like that, I might think you're daring me."
Then, as suddenly as he'd closed in, he stepped back, leaving me with the wall at my back and far too much space in front of me.
"You have much to learn," he said, tone calm but threaded with that quiet promise of danger. "And I intend to teach you all of it."
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