Wicked Honey

Chapter 5 - Bitter Dawn

Leaning into me, Chiara brushes her lips to my ear as if kissing it.

"Play along, or I'll reveal you," she whispers. 

"You did not just kiss that woman," bellows the king, his rage carrying him forward like a crimson tide.

"Before the eyes of Lutra and an anointed witness, on the first of Her days, I did," says Chiara, straightening her back and tilting up her chin to sneer down her nose at the man. Impressive, considering she's much shorter than him.

"I...you—" he sputters, in that moment I wouldn't be surprised if his eyes popped out of his head and boiling water streamed out his sockets. "You little slattern! How could you do this to us? Lord Battisti—"

"To the depths with Lord Battisti. The engagement is off, of course. Considering I'm already wed."

Wed? She has to be joking.

But the fire blazing in her eyes says otherwise.

I think back, trying to remember any details I might have heard about royal wedding ceremonies, but I come up blank. All of that—it wasn't for anyone but them to know. We were lucky to attend receptions, but those were all well after and entirely separate from whatever ceremonies they took part in.

And now I'm surprised the king's eyes don't simply burst as he too registers that loaded word. The vein on his forehead certainly looks like it might. "Wed? Wed?" His eyes roll, and he looks almost drunk in his rage. Finally they settle on me, though it's clear the words he spits are meant for her. 

"And who is she? This bride of yours?"

"Juniper," she says, smiling and squeezing my shoulder. "Newly initiated Royal Gourmand."

"You just pulled someone in off the grounds, didn't you?"

She feigns thoughtfulness for a moment, pressing a finger to her chin. "Hm, yes. I suppose I did."

"And some one-eyed lowland scum, too," he growls, eyes raking me up and down, lip curling upward. "What happened girl, lose some fingers to thievery? Trade your eye to grow them back?"

I set my jaw, look down. 

Keep your silence with the king whenever possible, littling. It's always safer that way. My father's words echo in my skull. I shake my head minutely. The king scoffs.

"A lowland girl Lutra didn't even see fit to give two eyes, and I'm to except her into the Blood? Madness. Absolute madness."

"It's not madness to accept reality, papa," says Chiara. "Juniper is my wife. If you don't like the idea of her being Queen Regent one day, you'll just have to disinherit me."

At that, he lets loose a sudden, harsh bark of laughter. Looking decidedly away from her and back to me.

"A Royal Gourmand, you say? And what do you intend to do with yourself now—dispense of your duties entirely and live freely, in luxury?"

My teeth grind together—but this time, I pry them apart.

"Not at all, Your Majesty. I intend to compete in the Greater Trials to become your head chef."

At that, the kings throws his head back, dissolving into choking peals of laughter. He laughs so hard that tears crop up at the corners of his dark, deep-set eyes.

"Well, in that case," he says, fighting for the breath to speak each word as his laughter subsides. He turns his back to me completely, stepping in to cup his daughter's cheek. "Enjoy your moon bride, daughter. At month's end, you'll be a single woman again...and I'm sure Lord Battisti will be all too happy to wait."