Page 54 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

“Actually, Maksym, there’s something I’d like to know, if you’ll humor me,” I said, even though it might’ve been the most nerve-wracking ask of all.

The king took a few slow steps towards me, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Go on.”

“What are you getting out of this entire arrangement? I’m not a fool. There’s some benefit for you in all of this, and it’s not just charity.”

A long enough beat of silence passed with his amber gaze focused on me that I thought the king wouldn’t deign to give me an answer, that I was about to experience the first of many swift shutdowns from my future husband.

But he spoke.

“I owe someone a great debt from many years ago,” he said with a heavy measure of caution before he headed back to the table. “They were Odessan, and I’ve always struggled with how to truly repay them. I think this suffices.”

“Repay,” the mage scoffed, obviously privy to far more of the king’s history than I would ever be.

But just like that, Maksym left me with a thousand more questions than I had—a simple clearing of his conscience hadn’t been a factor. It must have been a hell of a fucking debt for the only thing worthy of repaying it to be tethering yourself to someone for the rest of your life.

“I will see you at the feast, Miss Wynn,” he added, and, just like that, I was well and thoroughly dismissed.

12

OF FEASTS AND UNEXPECTED KISSES

ENORA

Sleep came easily without the weight of my imminent death weighing on my shoulders.

Funny how that worked.

After the wildly unexpected outcome of my meeting with Maksym, I endured twenty minutes of Eilir squeaking in unbridled excitement before I crawled right back into my bed, the sweet sprite be damned.

We had the rest of my lousy life to talk about all the things my new keeper wanted to show me in Grimmoria. I appreciated them, truly, because who knew if my soon-to-be husband would ever share the same sentiment? But good goddess, I was fucking exhausted.

The sprite’s offence at my lack of interest in conversation didn’t last long either.

They turned out to be more attentive than any maid I’d ever met, coming and going at all hours of the day. Making sure I had slept, that I’d woken up and eaten, forcing me to see glimpses of sun on the modest terrace. They made sure I took a nice long bath every day too, even when all I wanted to do was fuse with the sofa.

They kept the conversation light for those first couple of days, telling me a little about Grimmoria’s history while avoiding the topic of Maksym. Or his age. Or his many dead family members. But I learned digestible pieces about the dark fae, like how they dressed—mostly dresses and flowing layers for the women, unfortunately—what some of their delicacies were, and even several holidays, which, to my astonishment, were largely the same as what we celebrated in Odessa.

And that was why, on my third day of rest and respite, Eilir’s absence came as a surprise.

That morning, a simple knock on my door awakened me. When I fumbled my way out of bed, I found a dark fae worker outside my door, wearing a kind smile, a simple dress, and carrying a tray of food. They said little other than good morning and enjoy your breakfast, and then, they were gone.

Sunny skies had graced the morning, though, so I headed outside to eat. The view from the small terrace off my room was half-obscured by columnar trees with thick, dark foliage, overlooking a courtyard that left a little to be desired. It must have been grand decades ago, but now, it was just an overgrown mess of vines and dried fountains.

Still, I’d never pass up fresh air.

And it was while I was stuffing my face with cured meats and pastries, sipping piping hot tea, that I had a wholly uncomfortable realization.

The feast was tonight.

Fuck.

It had to be why Eilir hadn’t shown up.

And how convenient that they told me very little about the Agōn Ferr or any of its components, even in all the things they prattled about in their bite-sized lessons over the last few days. I couldn’t help the wave of unease that passed over me the longer I looked at my breakfast.

Food. Drink. Festivities.

All things I could handle, just with the added pressure of my entire circumstance. I’d yet to meet any of the Elixia outside of Gallan, who was exceptionally personable, and it took little imagination to picture how some of them were bound to react to my presence. I was, after all, not only a foreigner in their cloistered kingdom, but an alleged criminal, staring down a marriage to their king based on nothing but an archaic law.