Page 29 of The Consort's Curse
Coming from the man who had, little as I wanted to acknowledge it in those terms, wedded me before Ennolu’s altar and then taken my virginity in this very bed, “farce of a marriage” hurt enough to punch the breath out of me.
Not that he was wrong, of course.
And he’d said “forcedus,” hadn’t he? Not “forcedme.” That had to mean something. Please, gods, let it mean something, because I couldn’t do this alone. Not anymore. Not with my father-in-law threatening and poisoning me, and my potion doing nothing but sicken me, and that stinging ache between my legs where Stefan had taken me and would need to take me again and again and again…
I bit my lip to try to keep the tears from gathering, and I turned my head to try to hide both.
By Stefan’s quiet, bitten-off, “Damn it to hell,” I hadn’t been successful.
“Stefan’s one of my oldest friends,” Lord Benedict said gently into the miserable silence. “If it means anything from a fellow twilight mage, I promise you that no matter what Zettine’s threatened, we won’t allow any harm to come to you or to your sister and mother. Lucian would see to that, anyway. He’s a better and a cleverer man than the two of us combined.”
The open adoration in Lord Benedict’s voice nearly broke what composure I had left. Lucky, lucky Duke Lucian. And lucky Lord Benedict, it sounded like. I choked down a sob, but the sniffle came out mortifyingly loud and clear.
“He is, at that,” Stefan said. “Thank the gods he’s in charge rather than either of us.” Benedict grunted what sounded like heartfelt agreement. “And speaking of sisters. Mine married a Surbini wine heiress, as you may recall? When your man brings you what samples he’s collected, look for anything with her estate’s label.”
“He’ll get what we need. He knows what he’s doing. And I’ll give you his report and all I can learn about it with magic by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, Lord Remi, I strongly advise you not to eat or drink anything outside of this house, or that wasn’t procured in the normal way by the housekeeper, even though if Stefan’s right, then Zettine’s already gotten what he wanted and you shouldn’t be in danger from anyone else. No gifts of wine, and so on, just in case. The poison ought to have flushed out of your system by morning, as there’s very little left to detect already. But it may take longer for your potion to work again, I have to warn you.”
Longer. Gods. “How much longer?”
Lord Benedict shrugged. “I hope only a day or two, but…I don’t know. Every mage is different, and I simply can’t predict it. I’m sorry to say you’ll need to have patience and, ah, find another way if necessary. I’ll let you both know what I learn from the wine itself. Anything else before I go? Lucian’s waiting up for me.”
I nodded, thanked him, and let the bed pull me down for a moment, gathering my strength.
They spoke a few more quiet words as Stefan let Lord Benedict out into the corridor, and then the door closed. Icracked my eyes open. Stefan had remained on this side of it, and we were alone.
Chapter Twelve
Stefan crossed his arms and leaned back against the door, staring down at the carpet and letting the silence grow. I pulled the covers up around my chest in a gesture that probably looked laughably prim to someone like him. Not that he’d be wrong. It was a bit late for primness.
I had no idea what to expect, but when he finally looked up, his face set in grim lines, his first words still took me by surprise. “Remigius and Edelfina Hunziker? Were your parents playing some kind of cruel joke?”
I’d often wondered the same thing, damn him. “Our names carry the nobility of generations of Calatria’s aristocracy,” I said with a sniff. Surely a man who’d taken his husband’s cock in his marriage bed could be allowed to use whatever vocabulary suited the occasion, couldn’t he? Even if profanity displeased abbots and mothers. “Also, go fuck yourself.”
“Only Remi from now on, I promise you,” he said, and sighed. Another silence fell. “Are you hurt?” he demanded abruptly, sounding as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. “Did I hurt you?”
There were too many possible answers to that question, some more philosophical than others.
“No,” I finally said, because in the sense that he’d intended the question, it was technically true. Where he’d taken me, I had a warm, stinging discomfort—barely enough pain tosuggest how much he could have truly injured me if he’d been careless or cruel.
“I don’t believe you.” Stefan tipped his head back and surveyed me from under half-lowered lids. If his dark gaze hadn’t been quite so piercing and observant, I almost could’ve believed I saw before me a lazy, debauched fop. “I’m not sure you’d tell me if you—”
“I would’ve preferred to be honest with you from the moment we met,” I managed to say, through a throat thickening with anger—and more fucking tears. “And now you know the truth about me. About everything. Why would I lie to you now?”
“Because I don’t deserve anything better?” He pushed off the door, sighed, and came closer to the bed—but not too close, as if he approached a wild animal that might bite.
Or as if he thought I’d be afraidhe’dbiteme.
“You’re right, you don’t deserve anything better,” I said, because as I’d just pointed out, what reason did I have to lie now? His minute flinch gave me a disproportionate surge of satisfaction. “But if I needed a doctor or a mage, I’d tell you, because I’m not so squeamish that I’d let myself suffer for it. Besides, I’d think Lord Benedict would’ve noticed when he examined me, wouldn’t he?”
Through all of my reading in the abbey’s library, I had a good theoretical idea of how to use magic to examine my own body and how to heal it once I had. But I didn’t think a delicate part of me that I couldn’t see would be a good first test. I had a little over two days before I’d need to take my potion again, presuming it worked—or do something else I refused to think about until necessary if it didn’t. I’d have time to experiment. Maybe I’d start with something more along the lines of the blisters I’d probably gotten from those new heeled shoes.
Stefan nodded. “If you’re not hurt, then I’ll send in Aldrich to look after you. If there’s anything else you require,you’ll have it. I won’t trouble you again until tomorrow unless you send for me. I may be out for a part of the night, or very early in the morning. But everyone in the house will have instructions to follow any order you might give for your own comfort.”
Out? For a part of the night? He’d taken me, little as either of us wanted it, and now he meant to leave me here, going straight from our tainted marriage bed to a brothel? To wash the figurative taste of me out of his mouth with real pleasure.
What abastard.
“I have no need for you whatsoever.” My voice came out almost as hard as I wanted, with only the faintest little betraying hitch. “No doubt whoever you mean to visit tonight will be much happier to—”
