Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
He steps into a sunny spot, and his black hair gleams. When he meets my gaze, he arches a brow. I’m staring.
I drop my gaze to the floor and focus on making myself as small as possible.
“Shall I show you your quarters?” he asks, gesturing toward the stairs.
“Yes. Please. Thank you.” I duck my head and lift my skirts, following him up the stairs.
The hall at the top is lined with doors on one side, but the other side is a railing that overlooks the passage below, where the creek cuts through the hall with a comforting burble.
He opens a door and gestures for me to lead the way inside.
The room is large and airy with high ceilings and big windows that overlook the wooded valley beyond the castle. A massive four-poster bed sits against one wall, and a bathing room is opposite the windows.
The king waves toward a work desk in the corner. “There’s some muslin, various needles, and thread as well as bolts of half a dozen fabrics, though your handmaid can let my staff know if you need something specific.”
Unfortunately, when I take the form of another, I don’t get their skills along with their shape. I hope the king doesn’t ask me to sew him something while I’m here. I can stitch a tear in a seam competently enough, but I wouldn’t know the first thing about designing or sewing an entire gown. “I don’t need anything more,” I say. “I don’t sew much these days.”
“That’s what your sister said.” He studies me, worry creasing his brow. “Is there a reason for that?”
Because she’s too busy fantasizing about murdering a resurrected evil king?
I shrug. “It no longer interests me.”
Misha folds his arms and rocks back on his heels. “And what does interest you, Pri—Jasalyn?”
I shrug again, only because I believe Jas would do the same. “My sister said you have a lovely library.”
“Indeed. You can find it if you continue down that hall and go up the flight of stairs at the end. It was one of her favorite places in the castle when she stayed here.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m headed to the village in a bit.” He strolls toward the sewing table and examines its contents before glancing at me over a shoulder. “Could I convince you to join me? The ride is almost as lovely as the market itself. We could have dinner together at one of my favorite restaurants there.”
That sounds amazing, and I’d love to see it. I grew up on horseback and miss being able to ride regularly. But I shake my head and glance toward the bed. “I’m feeling tired, and I’d like to retire for the evening.”
“It’s early yet.”
“It’s later in the Unseelie Court.” I yawn to drive my point home.
That wrinkle reappears between his brows. “Perhaps the exercise would invigorate you. I always find—”
“Please? We all agree that this is the safest place for me, but I’m here now. I just need some time to settle.”
His gaze bores into me, and I can practically feel the intensity of his displeasure. “I wish you’d let me into that head of yours.” He drags a chair out from under the table, and it groans against the stone floor. He lowers himself onto it and braces his hands on his knees. “I don’t know what your sister’s told you, but I didn’t bring you to Castle Craige to make you my wife.” The corner of his mouth twitches upward. “When I marry again, it will be for love, and while I may suspect your sister is trying to play matchmaker, you and I both already know we’re not compatible.”
The shadow princess and the Wild Fae king? Maybe Hale was onto something with his whole seduction plan.
Misha clears his throat. “I’m trying to say that you don’t need to worry about me coming between you and your baker—baker’s son? You couldn’t even find a male that does the baking himself?”
I shoot him a glare.
Misha laughs. The sound is deep and full, and does something funny to my stomach. “You’re in my lands so that you’ll be safe, not so I can bed and wed you.”
Well, now I feel sorry for the princess. Misha isn’t just a king. He’s handsome and charming, and if today’s introduction is any indication, he’s also warm and kind and caring. If Jasalyn knew what was good for her, she’d find out what her sister has planned and make it happen.
But she wouldn’t want that. She’d be horrified by the idea of marrying a faerie. Almost as horrified as she is by the idea of becoming one.
“I’m tired,” I say, because Jasalyn wouldn’t entertain this conversation.
He nods sharply. “Of course. Just let your handmaid know if you change your mind about dinner.” He backs toward the door. “Rest well. You’ll be joining me for training before breakfast.”