The King's Cursed Bride

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Heat winged across her cheeks before seeping into her ears and neck, as if she'd spent too many hours allowing the sun to drench her skin. How could she best extricate herself from this situation? Respond to Elon? Make a break for the gardens? Greet the ladies?

Silk rustled behind her, the sound coming nearer. It seemed the decision had been made for her.

Carissa pivoted towards the ladies, a smile on her lips. At least, she hoped it looked like a smile and not a baring of teeth.

The ladies were both considerably petite, likely a few years younger than herself. But that didn't mean their tongues weren't honed to a fine point. They dipped into curtsies. "Your majesty," they chimed together.

Carissa nodded. "Ladies."

They rose. The one on the left, clothed in a low-cut dress of spring green flashed her a dimpled smile. "What a surprise to see you here, your majesty. We didn't know you were as fascinated by the training yards as ourselves."

The other tilted her head, her tight blond curls swaying. "Perhaps you're here to watch your Lord Husband?"

Carissa released a slow breath and wiped her hands down her shirt—more to dry the perspiration from them than to smooth the fabric. "I'm not here just to watch." But of course, the girls knew that, given how Carissa was dressed.

The brunette girl arched her thin brows. "Oh?"

"Are you going to be a knight?" The blonde pursed her rosy lips, but a giggle escaped nonetheless.

Carissa shrugged, trying to veil her embarrassment in nonchalance. "In a manner of speaking."

"I've never heard of a woman knight," the blonde said.

"Then I suppose she'll be the first," Elon said behind her.

Carissa had to remind herself to breathe slowly and bottle up her angry words; after all, they had company. But as soon as they were alone...

The girls' eyes widened as they dipped into another round of curtsies. Carissa didn't turn to face him, lest the fury in her gaze smote him on the spot. Then again, perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Elon's hands settled above her hips, and she nearly startled. "Now if you'll excuse us, my wife and I are going to train."

The girls curtsied a third time, their eyes alight with curiosity, before whirling around and scuttling back to the palace. Carissa only heard the tail end of their comments as they disappeared inside.

"...believe she's dressed like a man..."

"...so romantic..."

Carissa whirled to face him, twisting away from his touch in the process. "Elon."

"Carissa."

"Stop teasing. This isn't funny." She folded her arms and propped her hip against the stonewall.

The humor faded from his expression. "You're upset."

What a perceptive observation. Carissa bit her tongue, struggling to reign in her temper. "I thought I asked you to stop manipulating things."

Elon nodded. "You did, and if you'll recall, I said no."

She drew another slow breath. "So now matter how I plead or beg, you're always going to manipulate things to your liking, even if it causes me pain and discomfort?"

Elon winced. "I certainly don't want to cause you any distress, but if I see a future that's better for you than the others, I'm going to choose it and do my best to guide you along that path."

"And you decided it'd be best to embarrass me, once more, rather than simply allowing me to come and join you for training." She shoved out a breath, her chest slowly deflating as she tried to cool the heat roiling inside of her. Elon had placed such emphasis on respecting her choices, yet now he seemed of a different mind. Now he was willing to shove her down any future he chose to make her who he wanted her to become.

Her anger died with a sizzle, doused by a far darker emotion, one that twisted inside her chest and chilled her heart. "I'm not really your queen, am I?"

Concern flickered in his gaze. "Carissa, what mean—"

"I'm a pawn. A mere piece upon your game board, moving wherever you desire I go. Or perhaps a knight, expected to obey your every whim and command."

Elon was already shaking his head, but she continued, "And aside from complete trust, you know what else Sir Valen told me? He said you require your wife to place you above all else, to give up herself, and to serve you with complete obedience and submission. She must place your desires before her own." She met Elon's gaze head-on, daring him to contradict her. "That's not a queen, Elon. That's a slave."

His brows crumpled together in a confused, pained frown. "That doesn't make you my pawn, my knight, or my slave."

Her laughter soured in her mouth. "Then what's the difference between those roles and that of a queen?"

"Love. And choice."

She turned from him until the edge of the stone wall pressed into the small of her back. "Very well. I'll train with you, under one condition."

"Name it."

"Promise me you'll stop. Promise me that if I spend time with you, you'll cease trying to bend and twist me into who you want me to be. Promise me you'll love me just how I am."

"I do love you how you are." He reached out to take her hand.

She stepped back from him. "Then promise. Please. Let me grow in my own way on my own time."

A long sigh fled his lips, and for a moment she hoped he would relent. Until he shook his head, his body rigid with determination. "No, I won't. I can't."

She tucked her chin, lest he glimpse how much his answer truly hurt her. But she shouldn't be surprised; in fact, she ought to be used to never being enough, falling short of what others wanted her to be.

Elon stepped closer. "I love you too much to—"

"Please, Elon." She dragged in an almost painful breath, the air strangely sharp and jagged as it squeezed past her throat. "Don't use love to justify this."

The ensuing silence was heavy with unsaid words. She felt them dig into her chest like weighted hooks, giving her the option of buckling beneath their pressure or remaining upright as they tore into her.

She chose to remain upright—as she turned and walked away from him, into the palace, through the hallway.

Until she reached her room.