Jeez, did making out with Tor and starting to bicker with him win over the frosty housekeeper?
God, I hoped it was that easy.
“Nothing,” I muttered. Then pushed on his shoulders. “Go, be a prince, rule your princedom, I have a castle to peruse and innkeepers to ask to dinner.”
His arms got tight and he growled a warning, “Cora.”
I rolled my eyes then rolled them back to his face. “Oh, all right, I won’t ask any innkeepers to dinner.”
He studied me then shook his head and his mouth twitched. Then he gave me another squeeze, a brush of his lips against mine, he let me go and walked to the door.
When he had it open and was halfway through, I called, “Is it okay if I ask their wives?”
He turned, speared me with a glower, I grinned at him, his glower disappeared when he winked at me, my breath caught at how damned hot he could wink and then he vanished behind the door.
* * *
“I need to go home, I need to go home, I need to go home,” I whispered my prayer into the falling night as I sat curled up in a padded, iron chair in a secluded corner of one of the many balconies in Tor’s huge castle. “I’ll miss Tor and I’ll hate leaving him but please, please, please God, send me home.”
The people were lighting their lanterns, windows were beginning to glow and the street lamps were being lit.
And I was crying.
Nope, I wasn’t crying. I was sobbing.
Nope, I wasn’t sobbing either. I was bawling.
Because, outside of the day the curse started, that day was the worst day in my entire life – the short one I’d led here and the long one I’d led at home. Both of them. The worst day ever.
And I needed to go back home because the people here hated me.
Nope, they didn’t hate me, they detested me.
Nope, that wasn’t right either, they didn’t detest me, they loathed me.
And they were not to be won over by bright smiles and politeness and I hadn’t seen Tor all day for them to be won over by us making out or bickering.
No, that day for the first day since I arrived in this world, I had to go it alone. And alone I went it, touring the castle and the city before I could take no more, slunk back and decided that I might be falling in love with a warrior prince, and he was pretty magnificent (in bed and out of it) and his world was beautiful, but I couldn’t take this.
I couldn’t take it.
I had found out that the other Cora had been there three days… three days… and in all her bitchiness she had left devastation in her wake. She was cold, imperious, demanding, haughty, impolite, patronizing and even cruel.
In all likelihood she hadn’t offended everyone in the entire city; she didn’t have superpower nastiness like Minerva had. But she did enough damage to those she came into contact with that it was clear rumor had run rampant.
The further fact (I’d heard whispers) that she had nothing to do with Tor, who was beloved (I’d heard straight out comments muttered loudly behind my back or around my person) not to mention the future king and therefore responsible for siring an heir to secure the kingdom (which she was stopping him from doing, again, I learned this from straight out comments) didn’t make her popular at all.
In fact, people thought there was something wrong with her (as they would, Tor was hot and his princedom was awesome) and whatever was wrong was no good.
As with Perdita, they didn’t even try to hide their contempt for Tor’s wife. Glares, scowls, catty, loud comments and one man even spit in the path behind me as I wandered the cobbled streets wishing to explore, be friendly and experience Tor’s city.
But the spitting, which was horrid, wasn’t the worst.
It was the maids I heard talking as I passed them in the castle after giving them a cheerful smile.
“He doesn’t like her gardenia so now she’s wearing one of his other women’s scents that we left in her room,” one whispered loudly and then joined in with her mate’s giggles.
One of his other women’s scents. That vast collection of bottles were left behind by Tor’s other women.