“You jumped to conclusions.” To be fair, I probably would have jumped to the same one, in his position, but that didn’t lessen my outrage. “And you threw a fucking crown at me!”
“Not at you.” He dragged a hand over his face. Shadows hung under his eyes. I’d left the party early, but it was clear he hadn’t. Had he spent all night dancing with any woman who’d have him? Had he brought his favourite back to this very room, and then had the audacity to challenge me? “I didn’t mean… I was angry and humiliated. I thought…”
“I know what you thought.” And it didn’t justify assault.
“It’s just that… It's vital that people believe our relationship is real. What if the witches talk? I can’t—I can’t have people thinking you’re dallying with Idris.”
“Maybe it’d be better if you take me home, like you promised,” I suggested coldly, knowing full well how vital I was to his plan.
“No, please. Aliza, I’m sorry.” He reached for my hands, but I shifted away. “Please forgive me.”
“No,” I said flatly. “I won’t.” I dodged him, walking further into his room, and halted before the window, turning to face him as he’d done to me. “If this is going to work, we need to lay some ground rules. First and foremost, I do not, in any way, shape or form, belong to you. You don’t get to police me. If I want to fuck your brother, or anyone else for that matter, I will, and there’s nothing you can say or do to stop me.”
The colour drained from his face.
“This is a ruse,” I went on, relentless. “I’m not yours. I never will be. I have no intention of marrying you. You already know that, so please understand, you can leave your possessive bullshit at the door where I’m concerned.”
“Aliza—”
“Secondly,” I raised my voice. “Tell you minions to stop calling me ‘the Human Queen’. I’ll be known as the queen, or I’ll go home. Do you understand?”
“Aliza, please.”
“I said, do you understand?”
“What if I want you to belong to me?”
For half a second, I faltered at his words. Did he actually want me? Had the discovery of my tiara riddled him with jealousy? Him, a prince, pining over me?
“Then you’re about to get a crash course in disappointment.” As though I would ever want to be with anyone who could blow up like that. Maybe his abusive tactics had worked on other females, but not me. It didn’t matter how beautiful he was, I knew my worth. “This is the last time I’ll ask you, Anwir. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he relented, his tone desperate. “I do, but… do you-do you want to… My brother—”
For some reason, my ears began to warm. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”
He deflated, relief washing over his face. God, he was pathetic. How hadn’t I noticed it before? Was I really so easily blinded by a pretty face?
“Speaking of your brother.” I folded my arms, leaning against the windowsill as I glowered at Anwir. “What happened to him? Why does he want to die? Do you know?”
“Yes.” My stomach flipped as Anwir heaved a sigh. I’d half expected him to deny all knowledge, to insist I was mistaken, but he crossed to the bed and sank down on the edge of the mattress, burying his face in his hands. “I do know. I should have… I’ve been so preoccupied with my kingdom, I never thought—”
“What happened?” I didn’t care about what Anwir thought. I cared about what had happened to Idris. I cared about answers.
Anwir looked up at me, his green eyes full of grief. He looked so much like his brother that it was like a slap to the face. They were identical, but I was beginning to tell them apart. Not just by their hair or attitude, but in little ways, ways I couldn’t quite place. I couldn’t explain it, but I could see the difference, most of the time. But when he looked at me like that, Anwir may as well have been Idris staring up at me. Apart from the smile. It was the slightest of differences, but Anwir’s was cover model symmetrical, while Idris’ was endearingly lopsided. Not that anyone was smiling now.
“He had a child,” the prince said, his voice soft and tinged with regret. Ice cascaded over my skin. Had. “A boy. My uncle, he… In the last days before the curse, he’d taken us prisoner. He had the boy killed. Idris was forced to watch.”
“Oh my God.” I pressed a hand to my chest, where last night I’d been hit by a stream of agony. It hurt again now, a pulsing pain that robbed me of my breath. “Oh God, that’s terrible.”
No wonder. It was no wonder poor Idris had tried to fly. Tears blurred my vision, but I fought them back. I couldn’t let Anwir sense weakness. He’d use it against me somehow. I wasn’t sure how, but I didn’t trust him, not after last night and this morning. Fae were clever. Manipulative. Tricksters. I would keep him at arm’s length, even now, when the world was crumbling beneath my feet.
“Indeed. He was barely two years old.”
Every breath was like fire in my constricted throat. I had to get a grip of myself. “I thought-I thought fae couldn’t harm blood relatives?”
“Not all fae, just my bloodline, and unfortunately, the protection doesn’t extend to half-fae. Idris’ wife was a human, like you. Queen Claudia was not specific enough in her wording, and her protection did not extend to the child.”
Fae and their stupid bloody word games.
“I didn’t know he was married,” I said, trying to steer the conversation into slightly less turbulent waters.
Anwir gave me a sad smile. “Idris has always been a law unto himself. Don’t misunderstand me, he took his duties seriously, but in his downtime… he was untameable. Nobody could tell him what to do. He spent half his life out in the wilds with our border patrols. He learnt how to track and hunt. He loved to fly. He joined the aerial cavalry the very day he was old enough.” Anwir shrugged. “I never liked flying much, but from the moment he was assigned to a drift, his feet barely touched the ground. Anyway, I suppose he met a common girl, and not even a year later, a half-fae baby was bawling in the cradle. He married her, this woman, against everyone’s will. He was young and reckless, determined he knew best. My father was furious for the longest time, but he came around. Idris had his son at court more often than not, which is how my uncle came to know of Taryn’s existence. And now he’s dead.”
“What about his wife?”
Another shrug. “Who knows? We were put to sleep not long after the murder. Whatever happened, she’s long dead too.”
I’d never wanted children. I’d seen first-hand how my parents had given everything in their quest for a family, how they had put their lives on hold, emptied their savings account, how they had struggled ever since. I didn’t want that for myself, but I also knew how much Mum and Dad loved me. How much Idris had loved his little boy. My heart bled for him.
I dashed a tear from my lash line, sniffing.
“That’s why he hates you, I think,” Anwir went on. “He blames you for bringing us back. And you’re human, like her, but you’re alive and she’s not.”
“He doesn’t hate me,” I said without thinking. He’d told me as much himself. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. God, if I was in his shoes, I’d want to hate me too. “Why didn’t she become immortal when they married?”
The question of immortality hadn’t been far from my mind since I’d woken the princes, but somehow, I’d never put much thought into how it would happen. There’d always been something more pressing to stew over. If I had to guess, I’d have said it was part of the wedding ceremony, that when I, theoretically, married Anwir, I’d become like him. After all, the promised reward for breaking the curse was immortality and a royal husband.
Anwir frowned up at me from his bed. Maybe I’d guessed wrong.
