The crash of porcelain on marble was a gunshot in the mausoleum quiet of the palace wing. The sound hung in the air, a shattered scream of domesticity. Shards of white and a dark, spreading stain of black coffee marred the pristine floor, mimicking the spill of a newly exposed secret.
Jackline stood transfixed in the study's doorway, her heart a frantic, caged bird battering against her ribs.
"My Queen, are you alright?" Alex asked, his voice concerned, as his gaze moved from her face to the wreckage on the floor.
The sheer audacity of his question, the unspoken agreement to ignore the blatant intimacy she had interrupted, stole her breath. He was going to pretend.
"I was bringing the King his coffee," Jackline managed, her voice a reedy whisper, "and the tray accidentally fell."
She knelt, the rustle of her silk gown loud in the heavy silence, her hands trembling as she reached for a large, broken piece. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alex look at Christopher, a flicker of a puzzled expression crossing his face.
"Leave it," Christopher ordered, his tone sharp enough to cut.
Alex sauntered over, an easy grin on his lips. "Isn't the queen sweet?" he chuckled. "I'll get the maids to clean this up." He left, the heavy door clicking shut with a definitive, ominous finality, sealing Jackline in with her husband.
"Eavesdropping again, Princess?" Christopher's voice was a low, mocking drawl, utterly devoid of any warmth. "A dangerous habit."
"No, I was just..."
"Bringing my coffee?" he cut her short, his gaze fixed on her with unsettling intensity. "What happened to you hating me? Yesterday you were ready to tear my throat out with your bare hands."
"The coffee was a way for me to apologize," she lied smoothly, forcing a brittle smile as she sat in the chair facing him. "Yesterday I just said that because I was angry."
"So now you're not angry?"
She nodded, a wave of cold dread washing over her.
"So what changed your mind?" He raised a brow, leaning back in his grand leather chair, a picture of insufferable arrogance.
She wanted to tell him how annoying and unnecessary his questions were, how much she loathed the sight of him, but she bit her lip hard to prevent the words from spilling out, preventing herself from giving in to her raw anger. She had a role to play.
She cleared her throat. "I just want us to be on good terms. For the kingdom."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to get close to me to betray me." He finally averted his gaze, focusing pointedly on the ancient, leather-bound book on his desk. He glanced back up, a new chill in his eyes. "Are you a spy, Princess?"
Her heart did a terrified somersault, a cold sweat breaking on her forehead despite the chill in the room.
"Wh... what? Of course not," she stammered, the picture of feigned innocence. "That would be foolish of me."
"You're right. That would be foolish of you. You've already challenged me once; I don't expect you to do it twice. The consequences would be dire this time around."
She clenched her fist under the table, the sharp memory of his previous punishment flashing through her mind. The humiliation, the powerlessness... it fueled a growing, deeper rage.
"The marriage was to save your kingdom, Princess, a political alliance, nothing more," he stated, his voice flat and final. "You have your title, your crown, and your position. What you do not have the right to is me. Do you know what that means?"
She just stared at him, her eyes transmitting all the hatred the smile on her face refused to vocalize.
"It means I do not want to see you, speak to you, or be in the same room as you. So stop trying to get my attention because it is one of the things I can never give you."
Jackline clenched her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. The emotion she felt now was a living, breathing thing, something far deeper and more potent than the simple hate she thought she'd felt before. It was a cold, pure contempt. She gave him a final, searing gaze of pure antipathy.
"Now, I hope I won't have to see you."
It was a dismissal, a final, crushing rejection. The King had spoken.