Bride of the Traitor (The Prophecy of Sisters #1) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,52
going to try. It’s pointless. These dudes are far bigger than me and I don’t even know where I would go at this point. I honestly don’t think that I would survive out in the glittery snow.
“We know not, therefore we are not willing to take the chance. So, you must think of something to occupy your time, Queen Sybilla,” Merek murmurs, his deep voice rumbling throughout the room.
Shaking my head, I close my eyes for a moment. “I don’t know. I’m not good at anything,” I breathe.
“What did you do for work? Were you a bar wench?” Cornwall asks.
I blink at his obvious disgust over the thought of me being a bar wench, whatever the fuck that is. All I can do is picture a woman in German lederhosen with a beer stein in each hand and double Dutch braids.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I hear Merek chuckling beneath his breath as if this is the funniest conversation he’s ever heard in his life. “I wasn’t that, whatever that is. I worked in an office, I was an escrow assistant,” I grind out.
They both stare at me as if I started speaking another language. Rowan and Henry clear their throats behind me, but these assholes just stare. Rolling my eyes, I let out a heavy sigh.
“I worked in an office, I assisted people who were purchasing a home. I helped with the paperwork.”
They continue to stare, Merek actually frowns then tilts his head to the side as he tries to figure me out.
I let out a sigh. “Do you people not purchase your houses here?”
Merek smirks. “If you’re in the good graces of the King or related to royalty, you’ll be given a small castle and land. If you’re a servant, you most likely live where you serve, or in a small cottage with your family.”
“How do people get small cottages?” I ask.
Cornwall clears his throat. “They build them, or they’re passed down from your family who built them, Your Highness,” he explains.
Shaking my head, I let out an exhale. “Well, where I’m from, people purchase homes with money they earn from their jobs. There are no kings in my country,” I attempt to explain, although I do it extremely poorly judging by the looks of confusion on their faces.
“So, you were a servant in your world then, you assisted others?” Cornwall asks.
Pressing my lips together, I breathe through my nose and realize that I was exactly what he claims, at least by his definition of the word. “I guess so,” I mutter.
“Perhaps you can visit children? Do you like children? It would look favorable for the new Queen of Bunafi to get to know her subjects and children are easily won over,” Merek suggests.
“Are you saying that I couldn’t win over an adult?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest with a huff.
He grins, leaning back against the edge of the desk with a shake of his head. “I fear that you could easily win over the most cantankerous man on this earth, Your Highness, but shall we start with the wee ones? Some of them have not felt the touch of sweetness from the likes of you ever in their lives.”
His words make my heart leap. They’re sweet. Too sweet. I’m sure he’s manipulating me somehow, but I find that I don’t mind it too awfully much. I could use some softness delivered to me, considering I’m still reeling from waking up here each day and not in my apartment.
“Though,” he begins and judging by the way his eyes are dancing I know I’m not going to like what he says next. “Perhaps you’ll wait until the dressmaker comes ‘round and fits you properly. I’m thinking the old and the young will enjoy all of your charms a bit too much.”
My eyes widen and my lips part in surprise. “Merek,” I hiss as I hear Rowan and Henry guffaw behind me. Cornwall lowers his head, no doubt almost as mortified as I am.
Merek simply stands straight and makes his way over to me, his voice dipping just low enough that nobody else in the room can hear.
“Though I will not object if the damned dressmaker never comes ‘round. I find that I quite enjoy everything that you have to offer, Sybilla.”
Without another word, he saunters off, and I can do nothing but watch his retreating form and wonder how he made those words sound so sexy, as if I were inviting him to look at me.