Cold Queen - K Webster Page 0,14
all sorts of treats.
It’s a mess. The food touches. It’s all rammed against each other, juices from one delicacy mixing with others. It’s revolting to look at. Completely unlike the nice, neat rows of pastries or breads I’m used to consuming. He uses a fork to scoop up something light brown and crispy. The pains in my stomach are back, but instead of being disgusted by the food he presents me, it’s as though my stomach yearns for it. Begs for it.
“You need this,” he utters softly, his amber eyes boring into me. “That’s your truth. It’s written all over your protruding bones and pale flesh.”
I get a whiff of what he offers and I nearly let out a sob. Defeated, I open my mouth and let the Truth Seeker king feed me. Bite after bite. Each food more decadent than the last. My stomach roils and protests, but the pains lessen. When I shake my head after nearly consuming the entire plate, he doesn’t force more on me. He simply refills the plate and devours his own breakfast. Once he’s finished, he sits back down beside me.
“You’ll eat like a queen now,” he tells me fiercely, his amber orbs flaring as though he expects me to challenge him.
Not about this. I’m oddly comforted by the way he fed me and secretly pleased he chased away the pains that only the billibone usually does.
“I want to see Yanna.” I lift my chin in the regal way I’ve perfected over the years. “I want you to fetch her or take me to her. I need to assure her I am well. She worries herself ill over my well-being. You’ll do this for me, Volc.”
A smile tugs at his lips. “Perhaps.”
Arching a brow, I suck in a sharp breath. “Perhaps? As if it’s contingent on something. Out with it, fire maker.”
“Ahh, she’s not just beauty, she’s brains too,” he says with an obnoxiously victorious glint in his eyes. “I will allow you to see your sister once you’ve signed a treaty allowing me to enter Norta Layke for my passage to the Hidden Lands.”
“Is that all?” I mutter. “Just the measly thing you’ve turned my life upside down for. Why, sure, Volc. Grab me a dagger so I may cut my palm and make a blood oath to you.” I smile sweetly at him.
His jaw clenches. “Another barb. You must think me ignorant. That I’m some brawny, dimwitted king who will allow a clever, dying queen to play her way to what she wants.” He toys with a strand of my hair. “Why is your hair blue in some places?”
Shame replaces my irritation at him. I jerk the strands from his grip and frown to see the ash has been rubbed off. There will be ash in the fireplace. I can cover up the blue.
Strong fingers bite into my jaw, stealing my attention. I’m forced to stare into the fiery heat of King Bloodsun’s eyes. “I wasn’t insulting you,” he growls. “I simply wanted to know why. But considering your response, you don’t know why. You try to cover it.” His thumb runs along my jaw gently. “I’ll discover what’s causing this.”
“Why?” I spit out. “Why, of all things are you worried about my hair?”
“Blue hair. It’s not natural.” His dark brows furl together and a strand of black hair falls into his face. The urge to push it back is strong. Ridiculous, but strong. “It could be a symptom of your illness. I’ll have Mazon look into it.”
“Mazon?”
“He is my physician.”
The last physician who looked at me told me I was incurable. I’d remembered the fear in his eyes. I suppose telling a queen she’s going to die is a frightening thing. Cavon, in his fury on my behalf, cut his throat. Then, he proceeded to find five more physicians, all of which told me the same thing.
“I don’t need a physician to tell me what I already know.” I start to stand, but his hot hand encircles my wrist. The heat of his fires is barely restrained beneath his flesh. It makes me wonder just how hot he gets.
“You’ll do it because I command it,” he growls, his thumb running along my pulse on my wrist. “Understood?” He rises to his feet and then pushes down on my shoulders so I’m sitting once more. “I have to speak to Danser. You’re to stay in this room while I’m gone.”
“And if I don’t?” I challenge, anger surging up inside me.
He smiles.