Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
I could not show things.
He was still chuckling when he caught my new expression and he leaned toward me. “Now I see I have irritated you, my little monkey.”
One could say I did not enjoy being referred to as a monkey.
I turned my gaze to the lush beauty who sat on the cushions beside him.
If it could be credited, she appeared to be sending me the message that she felt for me, such was her rueful expression.
She got to marry True, who was the finest man I knew.
I was to marry this brute, who called me a monkey.
I didn’t need her feeling sorry for me, or at least I didn’t need to witness it, so I looked to the floor.
“Piccolina,” the king called quietly, and with nothing for it (he was a king, soon to be my king), I lifted my eyes to his. “A queen does not study the floor,” he instructed, still speaking quietly. “Ever,” he whispered.
“I’m not queen yet,” I returned.
That was when his gaze took its time to traverse my face, taking in my hair, my neck.
It slid down my throat and lingered on my chest, which I had to admit, was much pronounced in the gown I wore of layers of sheer, sage-green chiffon that fell in a multitude of gathers from the off-shoulder neckline to a belt of the same material just above my natural waist. The gathers fell to a rough inside-out seam at my hips and then down in gracious folds to cover my feet. The lovely sleeves were wide and billowy and gathered just above my wrist.
It was lighter (and cooler) than my normal garments.
And I wore nothing to further adorn it but a sage satin ribbon in my hair, for I felt the simplistic wonder of that dress, and the sumptuous material, needed no accessories.
His eyes barely scanned my bottom half, and I could understand why, his lush companion was barely clothed (you could see her navel!—and her upper half was covered only in a bejeweled brassiere).
But it seemed, from the look in his eyes, a look that did something to my insides, he was pleased with my breasts.
I felt my cheeks heat even if I told myself at least that was something.
“Rosa,” he whispered, his gaze on my face. Pink, he’d said. “Affascinante.”
I suddenly found it difficult to breathe.
Because his last was Enchanting.
Oh faith.
His attention abruptly moved to my uncle.
“I’ll take her,” he declared.
It felt like there was a huge frog in my throat and something quite curious was happening in the region of my belly (and, truth be told, below).
My mother looked to me, pleased.
As did my father.
My uncle said, “Of course you do, Mars, to quell the Beast.”
The Firenz king spoke as if my king did not. “You can send a messenger, have the rest of her dowry delivered while we travel.”
“You said she pleased you. I don’t under—” my uncle began.
“She pleases me, and I’ll have her,” King Mars announced.
Faith!
“But the dowry had already been agreed,” King Wilmer repeated.
“The quakes, they’ve stopped, no?” King Mars remarked.
My uncle spluttered because they had. The last three fortnights there hadn’t been one. And we were a week into the next and still…nothing.
“The prophecy must go forward. The witches warned us that it must be done,” King Wilmer reminded him.
“And so you’ll send the remainder of the dowry or, once we’re wed, and my Farah is given to your Prince True, I’ll have my warriors come into Wodell and they’ll take it,” he finished.
King Wilmer’s face got red before he whirled to my father.
“Send a messenger, Johan, and have the dowry delivered,” he ordered.
“At once,” Father said, suddenly amenable and not quite hiding a sly smile.
I did not like his sly smile, and I was so much not myself in that moment, I didn’t hide it.
It was when I felt King Mars’s regard again that I noticed he was studying me.
When I caught his gaze, it went to my father, back to me, and he arched a heavy, black brow.
I pressed my lips together.
He studied me for an excruciatingly long moment, then his very full and attractive lips twitched.
“Perhaps I can have a few moments to get to know my own intended,” True interrupted our silent exchange.
“Of course,” the king of the Firenz agreed, standing (and I was right, that jacket fell down to his ankles, and he was taller than anyone, perhaps, in history).
He reached a hand out to the beauty beside him. She took it and gracefully came to her feet.
“The receiving room, my little sister?” he murmured, holding her long, elegant fingers (apparently, Firenz men didn’t have any problem touching a Dellish man’s intended—the cheek!).
“Sì, mio re,” she replied, looked under her lashes to True.
Then she sashayed out, full hips swaying, sheer burgundy skirts under a jewel-encrusted waistband floating (and her skirts were not sheer like mine, you couldn’t see through the multiple layers of mine, you could most assuredly see her long shapely legs through hers).