CHAPTER SIX

I was slightly amused, in a twisted sort of way.

The fact that he was so stupid to think that I;d be harboring romantic fantasies about a troll like him was very amusing…but I bit back whatever retort I might have and a smile and kept my face perfectly neutral.

Moron.

The arrogance was almost impressive.

Almost.

“Is there anything else, Your Majesty?” I asked, my eyes still fixed on that spot above his head.

“No, that will be all.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, wait. I’m having the head of household take you shopping today. Your current wardrobe is…” He made a vague gesture, his lip curling slightly. “Suitable for a provincial Alpha’s daughter, perhaps, but not for my queen. You need clothes that reflect the aesthetic of this court. Something befitting your new position.”

I smiled tightly, forcing the words through clenched teeth. “Thank you your majesty for suvh generosity.”

“You’re dismissed.”

I bowed once more—swallowing the bile rising in my throat—and turned toward the door. Every step away from that bed felt like a small victory. I didn’t run. Didn’t let him see how much his casual cruelty affected me.

I’d been prepared for this. Expected it, even. Aldric viewing me as nothing more than a decorative tool was exactly what I needed. The less interested he was in me as a person, the more freedom I’d have to move through the palace unnoticed.

Still, the humiliation burned.

I stepped into the corridor and pulled the door shut behind me, taking a slow breath to steady myself.

“Well, that looked pleasant.”

I froze.

Klaus was leaning against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with something between amusement and mockery dancing in those amber eyes. He’d clearly been waiting for me to come out.

How much had he heard through that door?

I ignored him, straightening my spine and moving to walk past him without a word.

“Is this what you signed up for?” His voice stopped me mid-step. “Is this the kind of marriage you want?”

I turned slowly, meeting his gaze with all the ice I could muster. “What I want is none of your fucking business. What I do with my life is not yours to question or judge.”

“I think I have some idea about what you want.” He pushed off the wall, closing the distance between us with predatory grace. “I know what makes you cry out. What makes you shiver. What makes you…”

“Stop. You need to stop saying things like that to me.”

“Why?” He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him, smell that mixture of leather and pine that used to make me feel safe. “Because it reminds you that whatever’s happening between you and my father isn’t real?”

“There are two things you need to understand.” I held up a finger. “First, you should really stop making assumptions about what I want or what I feel. You lost that right five years ago when you took money to fuck me and humiliate me in front of your friends.”

His jaw tightened, but I continued before he could speak.

“Second, whatever happened between us in the past is dead and buried. I’m here to marry your father and become Queen of this realm. That’s my choice, my path, and I would really appreciate it if you could let go of whatever delusions you seem to be harboring about us.”

“There’s no delusion.” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “There’s a mate bond, whether you want to acknowledge it or not. And I’m not letting you go. Not again.”

“I don’t care what you think you feel.  And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. But let me make this very clear—the next time you approach me with this bullshit, the next time you corner me in hallways or tear off my veil or kiss me without permission, I will teach you a lesson you won’t forget. Trust me, you would not like it.”

He whistled, “I had no idea you’d become so vicious. I think I like this version even better.”

“Good for you.” I stepped back, putting distance between us. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, I have a very generous shopping trip to prepare for, courtesy of your father’s refined aesthetic sensibilities.”

I moved to walk past him, but his hand shot out, catching my wrist.

“Margaux…”

“Is there a problem here, Your Majesty?”

Darius’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. He’d moved down the corridor with surprising speed for a man his size, positioning himself just close enough to intervene if necessary.

Klaus’s eyes narrowed. “This is a private conversation. You’re interrupting.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Darius said, his tone perfectly polite and absolutely immovable, “I’m Princess Celeste’s official bodyguard. It’s my duty to intervene when I feel she’s being disturbed or detained against her will.”

He looked pointedly at Klaus’s hand still wrapped around my wrist.

“And it doesn’t appear that Her Majesty wishes to continue this conversation.”

The silence stretched taut between the three of us. I could feel Klaus’s pulse hammering against my wrist, could see the war happening behind his eyes as he decided whether to push this confrontation.

Finally, he released me, stepping back with a dark look.

“This isn’t over,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on mine.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “It is.”

I turned and walked away with Darius falling into step beside me, my heart pounding so hard I was sure they could both hear it.

“Thank you,” I murmured once we were out of earshot.

“That’s what I’m here for, Your Majesty.”

-----

The head of household turned out to be a stern woman named Miriam with silver hair pulled into a tight bun and the kind of expression that suggested she’d seen everything and been impressed by none of it.

She led me through the palace and out into the capital’s market district with all the enthusiasm of someone escorting a prisoner to the gallows.

“The King has provided a generous budget,” she said as we walked, her tone suggesting that she personally thought this was a waste of resources. “We’ll visit the finest shops. You’ll need formal gowns, day dresses, riding habits, and appropriate undergarments. Everything must be of the highest quality.”

I nodded, only half-listening as we entered the market proper.

The noise hit me first—vendors calling out their wares, children laughing and shouting, the clatter of cart wheels on cobblestones. But beneath that was something else. Something wrong.

The people looked… worn. Haggard. Moving through the market with the kind of exhausted determination that came from surviving rather than living.

I saw a woman with hollow cheeks haggling desperately over the price of bread. A man with one arm—probably a former soldier—begging near a fountain. Children in clothes too thin for the weather darting between stalls, looking for dropped coins or unattended food.

This was the capital. The heart of the kingdom. And these people looked like they were starving.

My hands clenched into fists.

This. This was what Aldric’s rule had created. This suffering, this desperation, this slow death by a thousand cuts while he lounged in silk sheets with his mistresses and complained about provincial aesthetics.

“Your Majesty?” Miriam’s sharp voice cut through my thoughts. “The dress shop is this way.”

I followed her numbly, my mind cataloging everything I saw. The suffering would fuel my resolve when doubt crept in. This was why I was here. This was what I needed to end.

We were rounding a corner into a quieter side street when everything went wrong.

It happened fast—too fast to fully process in the moment. A cloth bag yanked over my head from behind, strong arms pinning mine to my sides. I heard Darius shout, heard the meaty thunk of something hitting flesh, and then I was being dragged backward, away from the market noise.

I fought, kicking and twisting, trying to use the techniques George had drilled into me. But there were too many hands, too many bodies, and the bag over my head disoriented me completely.

Something hard hit the side of my skull, and the world tilted sideways into darkness.

-----

I woke to throbbing pain in my head and the smell of mildew and rot.

My eyes struggled to focus in the dim light filtering through cracks in what looked like old wooden walls. I was in some kind of abandoned building, lying on a dirt floor, my hands and legs bound with rough rope that bit into my skin.

“Well, well. Look who’s awake.”

A huge man crouched in front of me, his face split by a snarl that showed several missing teeth. He had the build of someone who’d done hard labor his entire life, all thick muscle and scarred knuckles.

“We got ourselves the King’s new whore,” he said, and several other figures emerged from the shadows behind him. “Gonna have so much fun with you.” 

Panic clawed up my throat, and I tried to move but the constraint of the ropes couldn't let me move.

"Who the hell are you? What do you want with me?"

the man snarled, "We, your hughness are THE REBELS!! A group of people whom your king...your husband had ruined their life and wants nothing but revenge, to show the King hell and we will start with his new queen."

I froze.

Rebels?

There was a rebellion against Aldric?

I never knew about this...never thought that...

The door burst open with a crash that made everyone jump.

Klaus stood in the doorway, backlit by afternoon sun, his face a mask of cold fury.

“What,” he said, his voice deadly quiet, “the fuck do you think you’re doing with my mate?“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​