1

1

“C

ome on, Reyna,” Fina said. She sat down at the small dining room table in my quarters. “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?”

It was mid-morning, and I had nothing on my schedule for the day. It’d been two months since my wedding to the Bloody King, Elias of Nightfall. No longer was I Lady Reyna of Daybreak-- I was now Lady Reyna of Nightfall, Queen of Frasia. I had beautiful lodgings, attentive handmaidens, and my two closest friends, Fina and Adora, as members of the court. I’d attended fine luncheons and dull meetings, familiarized myself with the way the Nightfall Court runs and the day-to-day business there.

I’d spent more time in the library, too, but I couldn’t seem to muster the energy or the desire to delve further into my research. What was the point of trying to figure out why the Fae disappeared when I had no real leads, and no one wanted to talk about it?

I leaned my chin into the palm of my hand, at the seat across from Fina. “What do you mean?”

“The moping,” Fina said.

“I’m not moping.”

“You’re definitely moping.” Fina leaned back in her chair, raising her eyebrows pointedly.

My handmaiden Amity swept into the room, pushing a cart laden with breakfast. I’d taken to having the morning meal in my quarters, a slow start to the day before I had to begin my royal duties. I pulled my silk robe tight around my shoulders. Amity murmured her greetings, then set down a fine spread of breads, eggs, and fresh fruit, alongside steaming mugs of coffee.

Fina wrapped her hands around her cup and peered at me. “When’s the last time you stayed with the king?”

“What?” I huffed. “That’s none of your business.”

“Come on,” she said. “He’s your husband.”

“And we have separate rooms,” I said. “So I sleep here.”

Fina sighed. We’d had this discussion multiple times over the past two months. As much as I loved Fina and Adora both, they didn’t understand the pain I was still carrying. I hadn’t wanted to be queen—and I hadn’t wanted to marry Elias. I’d lost so much to gain the throne: my future, my freedom, the family I’d thought I had, the man I’d thought I’d loved in Daybreak. The King’s Choice—and Elias—had taken all of that from me.

How was I supposed to forgive him for that?

Fina peered over her shoulder to the door that connected my quarters to the king’s. She sighed. “He’s not in there, is he?”

“He starts his days early, as far as I know,” I said. “Usually he goes for a run in the woods.”

Sometimes I heard him in his quarters, in the gray light of dawn. Electricity sparked on my skin when he shifted, and when I closed my eyes, I saw his powerful wolf form behind my eyelids. My own beast howled with the desire to join him, to shift and take off through the woods together, but I kept her on a leash. No matter what animalistic desire I had for him, it didn’t overpower the betrayal, and the grief.

After the wedding, he’d tried to break through my walls. He’d tried to talk to me, with gentle words and hands, touching my shoulders and lower back. Every time I’d pull away. He’d left me gifts, too, gowns and cloaks and fine foods and even fancy ceremonial weapons from different packs and different kingdoms. I merely ignored them.

Now, after two months, his efforts had slowly petered out. He’d stopped trying to speak with me in private. No more soft glances in the halls or in our shared sitting room. No more gifts, no more longing sighs. Our lives had melted into a dull routine, where we only saw each other at court functions, where we had a silent agreement to play the role of king and queen.

Sure, I was the one who had turned him away, but a small traitorous part of me was hurt he’d stopped trying. Two months wasn’t that long—and he had a lot to make up for. He’d given up quite easily. I wasn’t going to be the one to mend the rift between us. I was the one who’d lost everything. He’d basically forced me into this marriage, and if he wanted my love, he had to earn it.

I wanted him to be a partner—to treat me like an equal. I’d had more than enough of finery in Daybreak. What I lacked was trust. I wanted him to earn my trust. Sometimes it felt like more than a want. It felt like a need.

But how could I ask for something like that?

“And you don’t go with him,” Fina said. “Of course not.”

“I don’t need to run to keep my head on straight,” I said. “I have better control of my wolf than that.”

“Right,” Fina said, sounding exceedingly unconvinced.

Rue knocked on the door and stepped inside. “Good morning, milady,” Rue said brightly. It’d only taken a dozen corrections to get her to stop calling me ‘Your Highness.’ “I’ve been instructed to bring this to you immediately. Seems it’s important.”

She was carrying a delicate silver tray with a single letter on top of it.

I thanked her and, taking the letter, quickly opened the envelope. I expected the usual kind of communiques that came to my chamber: a notice about scheduling changes with the court, or information about a visiting diplomat, something important but fairly dull. My eyes widened when I read the paper’s actual contents.

It wasn’t court business at all. It was a simple handwritten note from the king.

You will join me for dinner at sundown, it said in his narrow hand. I look forward to enjoying your company.

I huffed as I threw the letter down on the table between Fina and me. She craned her neck to read it. “That’s nice,” she said. “Dinner plans like you’re still courting. Romantic.”

“It’s not an invitation,” I said. “It’s a demand. He’s always doing this—ordering me around left and right. This is supposed to be a partnership, but he still treats me like he owns me.”