Queen Sized - Jessa Kane Page 0,10

in my life. It is not against the law for a king to take a commoner as his wife. Maybe it’s not so far-fetched after all—

“So we have an understanding, then?” Corbet asks, kissing my temple.

A pit forms in my stomach. “An understanding?”

“Yes. You will return to Fallstrom after the Joining.” He strokes my hair, his gaze running laps around my face. “You are henceforth mine. Mine, Gwen. You will be my lover forevermore. My mistress.” He nods firmly. “I’ve spoken on the matter.”

My heart plunges into my stomach and I shove away from him. Stupid, humiliating hope. How could I have let myself feel it for even a second? Did I think taking him in my mouth would change things? If anything, I’ve made myself appear even more suitable as a paramour.

How can it hurt this badly when we’ve only just met?

“No, if you’ll recall, Your Majesty, I’ve spoken on the matter. I’m not interested in being your mistress.” There is a humiliating pressure behind my eyes—for the second time in one night—and I skirt past the king before he sees it, moving at a fast clip back in the direction of the gathering. “Goodbye, Corbet.”

“Good…bye?” he sputters, following on my heels. “Are you mad?”

“I’m quite clearheaded, thank you,” I toss over my shoulder.

“Get back here,” he growls. “You will sleep in my bed starting tonight.”

“Not a chance.” I stop short, turn and look him in the eye, needing to sever the connection between us completely, lest my foolish hope decide to rise again. “I’m entering the wife auction tomorrow.”

Now I see where he gets his nickname “the Fury.” His blue-gray eyes turn almost translucent with ire. “Like fucking hell you are!”

I poke him hard in the chest. “It must be wonderful to have choices. I want a wife, I don’t want a wife,” I say, mimicking his deep voice. “Well I have no choice but to find a husband or my sisters will have no home to speak of.”

He has the nerve to almost appear relieved. “If that is your worry, cast it aside. I will support them, as well as you.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I won’t earn it on my back.”

Some of the color leaves his face. “What do you think a husband will expect from you?”

“Intimacy, yes. But also companionship. Respectability. Maybe even love.”

His jaw is on the verge of shattering. “You will give no other man your love!”

“You leave me no choice. And if you stand in my way tomorrow, you’ll put my family in the poorhouse. For I will never consent to being your mistress.”

“Goddammit, Gwen.” He reaches for me, but I’m already gone.

I go directly to my tent and remain awake for an hour, watching my sisters sleep and reminding myself what’s really critical. Duty. Honor. Family.

And I firmly ignore what I cannot solve—the pain in my chest.

5

Corbet

I am dangerously close to getting drunk before breakfast.

Not exactly king-like behavior. Normally I don’t give a damn about how I’m perceived. I’m confident in my ability to lead and make decisions for the greater good. I know there is no ruler more equipped to protect his people. But this morning, I am required to be present at some ridiculous joust. Instead of participating, I’m sitting on a dais beside the leader of our neighboring kingdom, nodding and giving the official signal for the competition to commence.

Someone kindly just put a sword between my ribs.

My attention does not just wander. Oh no. I am barely aware of my surroundings. There is only my constant search for Gwen in the crowd, my eyes hungry for the sight of her midnight hair and stubborn chin. She is my woman. Every fiber of my being knows it. And yet I do not have her. Is it not the cruelest irony that the woman who makes me burn is the exact kind of woman who balks at being a mistress? Was I insane to think this proud farmer would be content to make her life as my kept woman?

I’m sick to my stomach.

My eyes are gritty and red-rimmed from lack of sleep.

My skin itches with a terrible foreboding.

Gwen has her mind set on finding a husband today.

Stopping her would be an easy feat. I’ve only to turn to the king beside me and ask him to disqualify one of his subjects from the wife auction. He wouldn’t even ask me why, although he’d suspect I want to tup her myself. And God knows I do. I want to push