A million thoughts ran through my head in that second. I knew Anwen had to sit next to me but with Rhylan already occupying a chair, the situation had complicated. I debated whether to take the chair next to Rhylan andhave her to my left, but I did not know who would sit at the other end of the table and the last thing I wanted was for her to be uncomfortable or even worse, in danger. Or I could have her sit next to Rhylan, but who knew what disgusting things the fireling might say to her.
I did not have to make a choice however, because Anwen, to both mine and Rhylan’s surprise, pulledthe chair at the other end of the table and placed her sexy bottom comfortably in there, situating herself like a queen. My mouth dropped while Rhylan threw her a proud and satisfied grin.
“Ansgar,” she addressed me and moved her hand elegantly to the chair to her right, a silent invitation for me to occupy, which I did without protest.
“Making ourselves at home, are we, sprout?” Fear Gorta grinned again, resting his chin on his knuckles.
“I will never call this home,” she responded dryly. “And don’t act like you are better than me just because you can claim your place at an empty table,” she snarled at him.
“I would never dream of it,” Rhylan smirked again. Even though I sat next to Anwen, I felt out of place, a stranger in such a dense connection which I hadn’t realised they shared. My mate could openly admonish Fear Gorta and get away with it, while others would be turned to shreds just for looking at him the wrong way and he was ... playful, enjoying this battle of retorts, teasing her openly.
Even the way they looked at each other, interacted, showed familiarity, making me question how often their interactions were in the past few weeks for them to become like this, comfortable in each other’s presence. Anwen kept saying how much she hated him but every time he appeared the tension in her shoulders relieved, and the bleakness from Rhylan’s eyes dissipated at the sight of my mate.
“What is your intention, Rhylan?” I heard myself spurting out the question, unable to convey my feelings any longer.
He raised his brows, surprised and offended by my speech, by the fact that I’d said anything at all.
“Meaning?”
“What business have you withmy mate?” I pressed the last words, claiming her in a way I knew it was wrong to do.
He blatantly ignored my question, turning his attention back to Anwen, who poured herself a glass of wine. “Hear that, sprout? Fuckboy is jealous,” he smiled, pleased with the effect he had on my temper.
“Suck it, Rhylan,” Anwen replied, focusing her attention on filling my glass with the same kind of wine she had taken a sip from.
“Don’t you want us to be alone for that?” he threw her a seductive smirk which, fortunately, my mate ignored. “Or do you care for your mate to join us?”
She did not reply and I had to grab the chair not to erupt. “Thank you,” I inclined my head to Anwen as I grabbed the wine, trying to copy her and completely ignore Rhylan, but he immediately realised our plan and continued, his next announcement making me splinter the armrest of my wooden chair.
“After all, those tiny sounds in the bathroom were nothing compared to the screams I drew from you last time.”
Anwen jerked away at the flying splinters that covered our side of the table, but my mate kept her calm, looking at me as though she had to offer the most rational explanation.
“He’s being a jerk, and that is nothing like it was,” she explained quickly.
“How was it?” I barely pressed the words from behind clenched teeth. With the corner of my eye, I spotted Rhylan, resting his chin on his knuckles again, watching us, pleased at what he created. That’s what the bastard wanted, for me to lose control before the king arrived.
Struggling to turn my full attention back to Anwen in between deep pants, I asked again, barely controlling my trembling voice. “How was it?”
“Rhylan entered my mind and created the illusion that you were there. I felt you, touched you, you were speaking to me. Apparently, he used my memories of you to create new ones, or something.”
I felt a drop of air escaping me. Then another, making it easier for me to breathe. Anwen continued, “It’s not like Rhylan was physically there, even though I hate the son of —” she stopped a moment, then added, “for what he did. But it was you whom I’d imagined to be with. I don’t know if the disgusting bastard saw what we did or not.”
Rhylan opened his mouth to speak, but Anwen lifted a finger, silencing him. “And I do not want to know.” She then turned to me again, pressing her fingers over mine on the table. “Hie vaedrum teim,” she whispered, eyes wide and sincere, completely shattering the heaviness in my chest.
“Hie vaedrum teim aldig,” I replied, then turned towards our host. “Even though I appreciate keeping my lady entertained while I was away, I will take it from here.”
Rhylan’s jaw became rigid and his fingers squeezed the glass so tightly that his fingertips became white.
“The king is coming,” he announced.
Chapter Twenty-Five
This was it, our only chance to escape. During the few hours we spent alone in the creepy copy of our first home, apart from devouring every part of my body and forcing me to take another shower, Ansgar also took the time to talk me through the customs and cordialities of the court.
Which is why I knew that we all had to stand as the royals entered or left a room and could only turn our backs to them after being excused. Also, the word ‘no’ did not enter their vocabularies, so the best option for us to get into their good graces was to always be polite, approving, and agreeing with them. “Flattery can’t hurt,” I remembered Ansgar’s words.
Ansgar, who panted like he’d just ran ten miles next to me, was still shaken by what Rhylan had announced. As soon as the doors opened, I rose from my seat and hurried behind my prince, occupying the empty chair between him and Rhylan. Wanting to piss off the fire faerie aside, I knew occupying the king’s rightful place at the table before his arrival would not prove to be a very wise decision on my end.
