Ophelia to eat what I considered to be an insufficient portion of food at dinner. She always sampled a little of everything, and didn’t seem to be overly picky, but she just never ate enough.
Tonight though, she absolutely wasn’t eating enough. She had barely even tried—her hands were on her lap under the table, and she was rubbing her thighs so frequently I was beginning to wonder if she was nursing some kind of injury.
Despite her best attempts, her gaze kept catching on the troupe at the back of the room, and while she wasn’t quite producing that awful scent—thank the goddesses—there was a sour note to her usually pleasant smell that made me wonder if the awful smell wasn’t too far away.
″Do you not like watching performances?” I asked as the tables were cleared away and space was made at the front of the room below the dais.
″I like them just fine,” Ophelia murmured, folding her hands in her lap and twisting her fingers in what appeared to be a nervous gesture, not unlike the way my mother fidgeted with her claws.
Strange. I would have expected the smell of nerves to be a more muted version of her sugary fear.
″Your majesties!” the lead performer called out, sweeping into a dramatic bow. On his head was a garish, oversized version of the crown I wore on mine—a prop I’d seen them pull out in performances many times before. “It is an honor for us to perform for you on this fine evening. We are grateful for your hospitality and your dedication to the arts, long may it continue. Enjoy the show!”
The court roared and cheered, and I gestured the go-ahead for the troupe to proceed, chancing a glance at Ophelia. She was wearing that stiff smile I had come to despise over the past week, looking perfectly put-together. Damen looked at me over her head, the barest flicker of concern on his face before his usual arrogant grin replaced it.
Fortunately, we were far enough away that it was unlikely anyone else would pick up the emotions Ophelia was broadcasting with her scent.
″I am King Mallerick!” the actor boomed, making the court laugh. He puffed out his chest, surveying the room regally. “It is an honor to have you here today, on this most auspicious occasion. My wedding!”
I tensed immediately, the laughter in the room becoming slightly more muted as the court’s attention shifted to me.
That I was the target of their jesting was no surprise, but I had naively assumed that Ophelia would be left out of it. Perhaps the court had thought so too, because the already quiet laughter descended into an uncomfortable quiet, only broken by the sounds of Shades whispering to each other and shifting nervously in their seats.
″Are you marrying yourself, King Mallerick?” Ophelia asked mildly, when the tense silence continued for a beat too long. “You are looking awfully lonely up there.”
Both the actor and the court relaxed at her teasing words, but I didn’t.
Another performer shuffled through a side door, hunched over dramatically with three wisps of shadow flailing from the top of their head like Garren’s ugly hair.
″The bride is here! The huntress has arrived!” the performer croaked, bowing obsequiously in what was an admirable impression of Garren. Damen snorted.
To hell with the distance Ophelia was trying to keep between us. Not when the ‘bride’ was about to make their entrance. I silently moved my chair closer to hers and draped an arm over the back of her chair, doing my best approximation of a relaxed pose despite the apprehension I was feeling. Ophelia turned that blank, pleasant smile on me for a moment—a gesture for the audience’s benefit—but her strange eyes shone with something that may have been genuine gratitude.
Only five performers made up the troupe, and two attempted to keep out of sight as they sang a slower, more dramatic version of the awful dirge Ophelia had been forced to walk up the aisle to.
What would she have chosen if she’d been allowed to plan her own wedding? I wondered idly, suddenly troubled at the idea that the entire thing had been planned by elderly Councilors with no input from the bride.
The doors at the back of the room swung open with a bang, and one of the female performers entered, hunching into herself and glancing around the room as though she was terrified of being eaten by the seas of monsters she was wading into. The shadows around her had been arranged in the approximation of Ophelia’s form-fitting wedding dress, though it was a mocking impression—too tight in the bust, and dramatically long at the back.
At some point, my hand had found my wife’s shoulder and I quickly loosened my grip before I hurt her.
Ophelia laughed good-naturedly, and even though the sound was forced to my ears, the pat on my thigh under the table was real. She was telling me to stand down. Curious little thing.
The performers stopped singing and stood to the side, their mannerisms and way they’d arranged their shadows a clear nod to Soren and Damen.
The real Soren stood near the dais practically radiating disapproval, while Damen laughed loudly, putting the rest of the audience at ease.
″How delicious Queen Bophelia smells!” King Mallerick pronounced, strutting around like a peacock. “Look at you all, salivating over her scent. Fools! Her fear is all mine to devour. I shall subsist on it and be the most well-fed Shade in the entire realm.”
″Erm, King Mallerick,” Fake Soren said in a hesitant, nasally voice that was nothing like the real Shade’s. Damen burst out laughing again. “The treaty says you’re not allowed to feed on your new bride.”
″Then what is the point?” King Mallerick yelled. “Send her back!”
″I’ll take her,” the actor playing Garren panted, dropping to all fours and attempting to lick Queen Bophelia’s thighs.
She screamed dramatically, swooning into King Mallerick’s arms as he landed a fake kick on the priest’s jaw. The actor’s mouth exploded in shadows that seemed to drip like blood, a long shadow tongue lolling obscenely out of his mouth.
″A new priest!” King Mallerick called, gripping his bride greedily to him. “If I cannot feed on her, no one can. Bophelia is mine!”
It irked me that their assessment wasn’t entirely wrong. I had wanted to keep Ophelia all to myself the moment I’d seen her.
The shadows around the priest figure on the ground morphed and the actor sprang back up, mimicking Weylin’s posture and looking determinedly away from Bophelia like he didn’t want to risk his tongue too.
″What ever happened to that first priest from our wedding?” Ophelia whispered, leaning right in to speak as close to my ear as she could with the height difference between us.
″He’s fine.”
Probably. Shades healed quickly. I’d ask Cyr to check on him tomorrow if I remembered.
″Let us perform the ceremony!” Fake Weylin said with a flourish. “King Mallerick, will you put down your wife for the vows?”
″Never! My wife’s delicious fear is all my own, and I will not share even a whiff with you!” King Mallerick declared as Bophelia scrambled up his body, wrapping her legs around his waist and arms around his neck, looking around the room with wide eyes.
Ophelia watched with a bemused smile. “Did I really look so afraid?”
You were so afraid, I almost corrected. We could all smell it, that was why the court was laughing at the performers.
″Of course, King Mallerick. Do you take Bophelia the Huntress to be your bride?”
″Yes! Bophelia is mine!”
I sighed, scratching Ophelia’s bare arm lightly with my claws, more for my own stress management than anything else. These shows were so tedious.
″Bophelia the Huntress, do you take Mallerick, King of the Shades, to be your husband?”
Bophelia’s teeth clattered together noisily, her entire body shaking dramatically. “Ye…Yes. I do.” She hiccuped loudly before burying her face in Mallerick’s shoulder, sobbing as Mallerick roared in triumph.
″Mine!” stupid Mallerick shouted again.
″I don’t sound like that,” I muttered.
″The ‘mine’ is more implied with you,” Damen laughed. Ophelia shook under my arm, and it took me a moment to realize she was laughing too.
″Now I will take my bride and seal the terms of the treaty in my bed!” Mallerick shouted, throwing Bophelia over his shoulder and smacking her on the ass. “Goodbye, subjects! Feast without us while I have a feast of my own!”
Mallerick marched down the aisle with Bophelia over his shoulder, waving jovially at the cheering crowd as he went.
Beside me, Ophelia snorted. “I wish.”
″What was that?” I asked, twisting in my chair to look at her.
″Wished,” Ophelia said quickly. “Past tense. At the time. Not now.”
″You did?” Was she trying to put me off by saying she didn’t want me now? I was stunned she’d wanted me then.
″No. I don’t know. Stop talking, we have to clap now,” she hissed, cheeks flushing a pretty shade of vibrant red. “Or stomp. Whatever.”
I hummed in agreement, stomping my feet unenthusiastically while the court hollered their approval. The performers all gathered in the space they’d cleared in front of the dais, dropping to one knee in front of us as a show of respect after their show at our expense.
″Very good,” I said drily. “Thank you for entertaining us this evening. I’m sure Prince Damen will be able to find a suitable reward for your time.”
Damen was already moving down the steps to greet them, accustomed to me throwing meet-and-greet style tasks at him. He was very little help most of the time, and had almost no responsibilities around here, but this he absolutely had to do.
I was not about to make courteous small talk with the actors who’d mocked me and my wife, even if the jests were all in good fun.
″Are you grumpy?” Ophelia teased, taking it all in her stride surprisingly well. That was what she did though, wasn’t it? She’d been immensely good at absorbing anything and everything that had come her way.
″These performances are bad for my ego,” I replied, which was true, though I was more grumpy because Ophelia had become a target of their teasing, and because I hadn’t fed.
I should have fed.
Ophelia had looked so miserable at the prospect, that I couldn’t bring myself to feed in front of her.
″Oh right. I forgot how much you’re hurting for ego,” she said wryly.
″Was that a joke? Are you telling jokes now?” I asked, throwing her words from earlier back at her.
Ophelia pressed her lips together, rolling them in which fascinated me. The things she could do with a mouthful of harmless little teeth.
″I tell jokes all the time,” she replied primly. “In the human realm, I am very funny.”
Compared to Astrid, I could absolutely believe that.
″King Allerick, Queen Ophelia,” Maddox, one of my Councilors, said as he approached the table, bowing low. “I am sorry, my king. There has been an incident that requires your immediate attention.”
When wasn’t there?
I made eye contact with Soren who nodded in understanding that I wanted him to escort Ophelia back to her rooms.
″Until tomorrow, wife,” I told her, missing the heat of her body next to me as I pulled my arm away and stood up. I was probably just touch starved. Shades were sexual creatures, and I hadn’t been with anyone since my marriage was brokered.
Nor would I be with anyone again, unless my wife set aside her fear of me for long enough to consummate our union. Perhaps this union was in name only, but I had made a commitment and I intended to respect that.
And I’d respect Ophelia by keeping my hands to myself and not causing her any more distress than I already did.
After a long night meeting with the Council before traveling to one of the smaller regions to put down a small scale rebellion against the peace treaty with the Hunters, I’d been too exhausted to check in on my sleeping queen, and had gone straight to bed. I woke irritable, feeling as though I’d been cheated of my nightly routine.
After yesterday, something in my attitude towards Ophelia had changed. Seeing her around her sister, the way she was treated as barely a Hunter at all, after she’d watched Soren feed and said nothing… Then when we’d come back here and she’d sat through that horrendous performance and smiled and teased the performers like they weren’t blatantly mocking her…
She wasn’t who I thought she was. Which meant it was time for me to do some more research, because I didn’t like that I’d been wrong. It… sat uneasily with me.
I bathed before quickly eating the now-cold breakfast Cyr had left out for me, contemplating wearing my uncomfortable crown today but ultimately deciding against it. It served as an impressive visual reminder when I had to go confront the idiots who acted like the peace treaty was a life sentence, but I didn’t need it. Last night’s rebellion had been better organized than usual, and it would require more of my attention today. A surprisingly young female had been leading the charge, attempting to manipulate one of the portals so they could pass through it and feed without leaving a traceable record.
It was idiotic, really. The portals predated any of us, and had magic of their own. They wouldn’t be tricked or strong-armed into doing the bidding of a few discontented Shades who refused to compromise.
Unable to delay any longer, I dragged myself back to the Council Chamber with Soren silently at my side, resenting my duties for the first time. Soren was up-to-date on what had occurred, and he’d been at my side when we confronted the rebels, yet even he didn’t truly understand the burden of responsibility that came with my role.
″King Allerick,” Maddox greeted me as the Councilors bowed. “We found the Shade who attempted to start the uprising. She’s in the dungeon awaiting trial.”
″Good,” I said, dropping into my seat and barely resisting the urge to lie my head on the table. She’d done an impressive job evading us last night while we rounded up the others. “Soren can deal with her, I’m more interested in the why.”
″There are Shades who feel the treaty is not in our best interests,” Raina, one of the other Councilors, hedged.
″I gathered that. How terrible it is for us to not be killed,” I deadpanned. Were there sacrifices on our part? Of course. But the benefits far outweighed the disadvantages.
″Quite,” Raina agreed, amused. “We always knew there’d be some opposition, your majesty. We’ll continue to catch them as they arise and deal with them accordingly. The Shades will see the benefits of the treaty in action, this small dissenting movement has no legs.”
I nodded, inclined to agree with Raina’s position, although I was still wary. Most Shades just wanted to feed safely, they didn’t care if we were following a few rules the Hunters had set out for us to do so. I didn’t even think they particularly cared about the marriage agreement side of things. The performance last night was usually a good indication of how regular folk felt about an issue, and there hadn’t been any animosity towards Ophelia.
They’d laughed at how afraid she was and how covetous I was over her fear, but there were far worse things they could have said. I wouldn’t have let them live, but they could have tried.
″King Allerick, we had hoped you’d bring the queen to this meeting for an introduction,” Teague, one of the newest councilors, said nervously. Judging by the expressions on the others’ faces, Teague had been today’s nominated sacrifice to ask after her.
″I’ll request her presence at the next meeting,” I sighed. “Though I hope you’ll all remember that Queen Ophelia is new to our world and everything in it. I won’t have you interrogating my wife, Councilors,” I added in a deceptively calm voice that all of them knew not to fall for.
″Of course not,” Teague replied hastily. “This meeting is merely a formality.”
″Of course. Soren, are you ready to go downstairs?”
Soren nodded, still standing at attention next to the door. I didn’t intend to get too involved—it would lend too much credibility to the dissenters’ claim if the king paid it any attention. There were plenty of dark corners for me to blend into while I watched Soren work though.
Judging by the shadows floating off him like smoke, he was more than ready to get his hands dirty.
Hopefully, this would be the one and only time we were forced to deal with a rebel who couldn’t see the value of a treaty that kept the lives of everyone in this realm safe.
“I give up,” Soren growled, storming out of the dungeon and slamming the soundproof stone door shut behind him. “She’s too terrified to say anything useful.”
″I drew the same conclusion,” I replied, releasing the shadows that had hidden me in the dungeon while I watched Soren question Kirsa. “Who is a bigger threat than me? She should be terrified of the king’s wrath.”
″Perhaps this group is better organized than we initially gave them credit for,” Soren admitted, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor as he always did when he was stressed. “It may be worth assigning more resources to tracking them.”
I made a noise of discontent, leading Soren up the winding staircase to the upper levels. Assigning more resources meant taking them away from somewhere else, and I already knew what he was going to suggest.
″Allerick, perhaps it’s time to reduce the guard presence around the palace. Aside from the fact that Ophelia doesn’t appear to present any kind of threat, between Levana and I, she’s always covered anyway. She’s made no attempt to evade Levana—I would go so far as to say she’s done the opposite. She seeks Levana out rather than going somewhere alone,” Soren pointed out.
We’d agreed that adding extra guards was the right decision before Ophelia arrived for the wedding, assuming that she was sent here as some kind of dangerous plant. Unless Ophelia was a very good actress, it seemed those extra precautions had been unnecessary.
Could she even throw a silver dagger? It didn’t sound like she’d received that kind of training.
″Fine. Drop the palace guard back to normal numbers and assign the others to track this group of malcontents. Levana stays here though. I don’t want Ophelia’s main guard changing unless absolutely necessary.”
Soren nodded, looking relieved that I didn’t put up a fight. “I’ll go do that right away, shall I escort you—”
″Don’t even finish that sentence,” I grumbled, throwing him a warning look. I was the most fearsome creature in this realm, I didn’t need to be escorted through my own palace.
Soren gave me a glare back, reminding me silently that I hadn’t fed last night and wasn’t at full strength, which I ignored. After Ophelia was asleep, I’d go to the human realm and feed. I could easily last another few hours.
I headed in the direction of one of the sitting rooms where I usually took lunch, but Meridia emerged from around a corner, sauntering towards me with just slips of shadows covering her intimate areas.
For fuck’s sake.
″Your majesty,” she purred, bowing low. The shadows shifted, revealing her nipples, and I directed my gaze to the ceiling immediately.
″How can I help you, Meridia?”
″My, that’s a loaded question,” she laughed, an entirely false sound. “I just wanted to check on you after that performance last night. Such an unflattering depiction of you, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d thrown the actors in the dungeon for the offense.”
″We don’t throw people in the dungeon for unflattering performances here,” I replied smoothly, grateful every day that Meridia wasn’t queen. “Was that all?”
″Your poor wife probably wishes you did. I can’t imagine how humiliated she was, especially sitting there alone when it was all said and done. Though I’m sure you know better than I do how she feels,” Meridia added lightly. “I’ll leave you to your day, I know how important your duties are.”
She inclined her head, backing up a few steps before turning and disappearing from my sight.
Wretched she-demon.
Her words had found their mark, and despite myself, I found I was drawn towards Ophelia’s rooms, where she usually returned soon to relax before dinner. I had no idea why I was drawn there—Ophelia certainly wouldn’t share with me how she was feeling even if I had thought to ask—though I supposed there was something about her presence that gave me some comfort. Maybe it was just that she was a physical sign that the treaty was in place and that my people could feed safely. It was probably that.
Ophelia was living, breathing proof of what we had accomplished. That was all.
The guards bowed their heads as I passed, and I nodded at them in return, knowing before I got to the end of the wing that Ophelia wasn’t here yet. I could hear Affra snoring quietly as I passed her door, and I expected Cyr would be out running errands.
There was no one around.
If there was anything suspicious in those drawings, now would be the time for me to find out. I’d checked in on Ophelia every night before she fell asleep, and she was always drawing, but the angle meant I’d never seen the pictures.
There would be no better insight into Ophelia’s mind than whatever was on that paper, I was sure of it.
I let myself into her room, inhaling the smell of Ophelia’s fear that lingered on the sheets. Why did she feel afraid in here? Perhaps she didn’t like being on her own, or didn’t like that this room was darker than the others in the palace.
But then she’d been twisting her hands nervously last night and hadn’t smelled even the slightest bit sweet.
That sense that I was missing something continued to haunt me.
Time to find out what that elusive missing thing is…
I headed straight for the large dresser, commending my foresight in having this piece of furniture commissioned, and pulling open the wide, shallow top drawer where Ophelia kept her leather-bound sketch book and a holder containing her supplies.
It’s not an invasion of privacy. You’re the king. It’s your job to investigate unknowns that may or may not be threats.
Careful not to damage the leather with my claws, I uplifted the leather book and carried it to the bed, sitting on the edge and lying the book down so I could untie the fiddly leather straps. I knew from watching Ophelia that each drawing was on a loose sheaf of paper, and I didn’t want to risk mixing them up.
With the string undone, I lifted the front flaps so the piece of leather laid flat on the bed, and sucked in a breath at the startlingly realistic image on top of the pile. Forgetting entirely that I was trying to keep them in order, I sifted through them one by one, laying them out on the mattress around me.
All the blood in my body seemed to rush to my cock at once, leaving me lightheaded.
I had been so very wrong about my wife.
