King Sized

He might as well be suggesting we lie down in front of a stampede.

I’m not in the right mind for this. I’m barely coherent.

My gaze strays to Rex. His jaw appears on the verge of cracking, eyes red rimmed. I can’t imagine a life without him. How can he imagine one without me?

“Queen Britta?” Richard says, more firmly this time.

I become aware that I’m humiliating myself in front of the court. What to do, though? Go along with the proceedings as if nothing is amiss? I am not attracted to either of these men and they do not strike me as men I could grow to love. The greed and ambition in their eyes is enough to tell me that. But I can’t just dismiss the entire process out of hand.

I could go along with it. Humor Richard and the court.

And then marry no one.

But that might jeopardize the kingdom. People like Katrina and Priscilla and the rest of Rex’s sisters, who I grew to love in just one night.

I don’t know what to do…and I have no one to talk to. My only confidant has barely spoken a word to me all morning and is planning on leaving at the earliest opportunity.

I swallow hard. “A walk in the gardens sounds lovely.”

The blond man—Prince Corwin—steps forward and offers his hand. “It would be an honor, Your Majesty.”

The other prince seems annoyed that he didn’t get a chance to offer first, blustering to Richard in spittle-soaked whispers. Seeing no other choice, I place my hand in Corwin’s, nearly recoiling at the softness of his palm when all I want is a hard, calloused one.

A low rumble fills the great hall and everyone glances around for the source. Everyone but me. I know it came from a certain giant and I’m done acknowledging him.

Corwin guides me out of the great hall, his chest puffed up, nodding at members of the court. I don’t look right or left—or at my former lover—keeping my attention squarely ahead. My chin high. We walk in silence to the gardens, before Corwin seems to realize this parade isn’t only for show. That we’re actually supposed to converse.

“Now, Queen Britta. Are you a lover of rubies, as I am?”

Kill me now.

8

Rex

My breath turns to ice in my lungs at the sight of her on the arm of a man who couldn’t be mistaken for anything but royalty. He is wealth, where I am poor. He is fair and handsome, where I am rough and ugly. They suit perfectly—and I would like to knock every one of his perfect teeth out and string them onto a necklace.

I pace to the right and left at the entrance of the great hall, agony splitting my bones apart. Perhaps I should have resigned my post as soon as we arrived back to the palace, but none of the men they would replace me with are good enough to protect her.

And so it will be me for a while longer. This torture will have to be endured.

I take a wheezing breath and set after Britta and Prince Corwin.

Her scent carries on the air and curls in my nose—wild flowers—and I groan brokenly, my hands aching for the feel of her. She’s had a bath since I left her, changed into a light, cream-colored gown, her hair up in a twisted braid on her head. So different from last night, but equally stunning. She looked so forlorn up there on her throne. Lonely. It took every ounce of my restraint not to go to her. Hold her, rock her in my arms and tell her everything will be all right. Because I have no right to tell her that when I won’t be here to make it so. I won’t be here. Hell, I had no right in the beginning to insert myself into her life, to put my filthy hands on her, to call her mine when such a thing could never be real.

Up ahead, Britta and Corwin enter the gardens and take the southern path toward the dense crop of trees, which I don’t like. I would have suggested north, where they could remain in the light. In view of the palace. I don’t like the way Britta holds herself so stiffly, either, and does that fucker have to lean over near her face every time he makes a comment? She can hear him just fine without the closer proximity.

They turn and dip out of sight on the path and my heart rams up into my throat. I pick up my pace to bring them back into view—and when I do, my blood turns the consistency of fire, the world tilting around me.

Corwin has his hands locked around Britta’s neck and she’s struggling.

For a moment, I swear I’m seeing things.

My brain is giving me an excuse to kill this man who could marry my love.