people dry just to stay in her favor. Forsaking your gods, your crown, your throne, and your people just to have a taste of her rotting from the inside out, anchovy.”
I chuckle at the description of my father’s paramour. Merek isn’t wrong, the woman smelled rotten. “Am I putting my people in danger by keeping Sybilla? If the prophecy is true, she does have power. If she gives her heart to the wrong man it will cause hells like no one could fathom in our world.”
“Godiva already cast a spell that would render that impossible. You were both sick right after that spell, her body needing her true heart’s love and her true love needing her in return. How did you feel after you bedded her this morning?” he asks.
I’m unsure of how he knows, though it should not surprise me. Merek is not only astute, but this castle talks, if Duraina’s knowledge of Sybilla’s courses are an indication.
“Do not answer, but do not close yourself off, Elias. You are not the former King of Bunafi. You are King Elias Cassius Arthur Wainwright of Bunafi. You are fair and just, almost to a fault. Your people will never suffer and the fact that no matter how much land your father willingly gave to other countries, you conquered it all and gave it back to your people, to your kingdom, plus some.”
Shaking my head, I lift my gaze to meet my cousin’s. “I do not deserve you or your kind words, cousin,” I rasp. “I’ve been unbearable.”
Merek shrugs a shoulder. “You are a man who was thrust into a position that you had no desire to have, then you were dealt something magical and unimaginable and you have handled it better than anyone could ever have expected. However…”
“However?” I ask when he doesn’t continue immediately.
He clears his throat. “However, your queen could use some comforting. It is true she stayed abed, not eating or drinking for a week’s time. I was forced to demand her to rise and take care of herself and make herself known amongst your people. I do believe the witches when they describe her as tenderhearted.”
“Thank you, Merek,” I murmur. He dips his chin and turns from me, only to stop and look back over his shoulder.
“Your correspondence is in the top drawer. There are several balls that you’ve been asked to attend. And unfortunately, my mother will be paying a visit shortly.”
“Why?” I almost shout.
He snorts. “Unsure, but I believe it has more to do with me than it does you. She has been hounding me about taking a wife for some time.”
I shake my head. “Won’t you join me in speaking your vows, cousin?” I chuckle.
His eyes dance and he shakes his head once before he answers me. “Only if you find someone like your queen for me. I think the women of her world, if they are all remotely like her, hold much greater appeal than the royalty my mother will demand I wed.”
“Find a commoner then, you do realize I am the one who’ll approve your match, do you not?”
He tilts his head to the side, lifting his hand he rubs his jaw. “Would you?”
“To make my cousin, my brother happy, I would do very much, Merek.”
Merek leaves my chancery without saying anything else. I’ve given him something to think about and I hope that he will indeed, think on my words.
I do not wish to force him into a loveless marriage just because my wretched aunt demands he marry someone of breeding. I know as well as he does that those women will never make men like us happy.
We need women like my Sybilla, he is right on that note. She is fiery, smart, soft and sweet all in one extremely seductive package. Standing from my desk, I decide that my correspondence can wait.
SYBILLA
I’ve been avoiding my girls all morning and now, afternoon. Standing at the back entrance of the castle, I watch the creepy-ass Elephant birds peck at the ground ahead of me.
I prefer the view from the front of the castle, but it’s extremely busy today and there is a higher chance of running into not only Merek, Rowan, or Henry, but also Elias there. It’s quieter back here, only servants come and go, and they ignore me.
A finger touches the back of my neck, slowly sliding down my spine and stops at the last button of my dress. I don’t jump, or even turn around to see who it