LAST ONE! I WILL POST MORE NEXT WEEK!! IT MAY BE BEFORE FRIDAY SINCE I WILL BE LEAVING TOWN THAT THURSDAY AND WILL BE AWAY FROM MY COMPUTER.
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479Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡm4mRIQsCBe
Word of Victory reaches the Capital before Prince Jarrah and his army returns, but they aren’t alone. The Seelie Queen is with him and she is beautiful. Suddenly Lizbet’s clothes aren’t good enough, her hair isn’t combed enough and she isn’t thin enough. Not compared to the Goddess walking beside Prince Jarrah as they enter the palace.
The Queen has auburn curly hair that falls to her waist, perfectly flawless tan skin, piercing hazel eyes, and a form carved by the Goddesses themselves. Prince Jarrah has yet to peel his eyes away from her.
“Is that…?”
“The girl he’s in love with, yes,” Lizbet nods to her aunts.
“Holy Gods,” her cousin Loran gasps, “With girls like that out in the Planes, there’s no hope for the rest of us.”
“It’s disgraceful that he would call upon his former lover for aid,” her aunt Portia scoffs, glaring at the beautiful Queen.
“She carries on as if they’re still together,” Delilah adds.
Lizbet’s heart slams into her chest. Judging by the way Queen Arya devours Prince Jarrah with her eyes, she doubts the Queen knows anything about her. Which means the Prince is keeping her in the dark about his pending nuptials. He has no intentions on seeing them through. He’d told her as much. Both she and the Seelie Queen are pawns in this game of political and emotional chess he’s playing with his brothers.
“Get word to Interim King Kahlem Jarrah that whatever leverage he has over prince Malich Jarrah may have been discovered. The Prince is very resourceful and we can’t lose a King,” Lizbet instructs Banon. With a nod of his head he disappears. Lizbet’s aunts stare at her in awe. “What?”
“We just didn’t know you had it in you to be so ruthless,” Delilah smiles wickedly.
“I will not lose him. Not to any woman, but especially not to her. She tried to kill me.”
At that her aunts narrow their eyes at the Seelie Queen. “Word is shewas the one who gave us the victory over the Fall Court.” Portia confides, “Banon says she’s very powerful. Are you sure you want her as an enemy?”
Whirling around to face her aunts Lizbet smiles demurely, “Enemy? I do not intend to be her enemy, openly anyway,no…I will smile and be her friend all the while slowly pulling the rug up from under her without either of them knowing it. She can have his heart, but the rest of him is mine. With time and perhaps some distance between them, he will grow to love me as he loves her.”
Putting on her best smile, Lizbet decides to greet the Queen with her aunt and cousins in tow. The Prince blanches when he sees her coming. “Queen Arya,” Lizbet nods, “It’s a pleasure to meet you again. I’m afraid the last time we met I wasn’t nearly as clothed as I am now.”
The Queen bristles, fighting the urge to glare. Instead, she feigns a smile and replies, “I’m sorry, but who are you? I’m not very good at remembering the faces of those who aren’t royalty.”
Bitch. She knows exactly who Lizbet is and what title she holds. Watching their niece’s mask slip, Lizbet’s aunts step in, bowing to the new Queen. “Your Majesty, this is Princess Lizbet Grayson, soon to be Queen of the Winter Court,” Delilah feigns a smile of her own.
“Especially once she marries -”
“Once she marries the Prince of her choosing,” Prince Jarrah interrupts, cutting her aunt off, “Excuse us Arya, I need to have a word with the Princess and her family.”
Arya nods to him and finds use for her presence elsewhere. The moment she’s out of earshot he drops the charade. “What the fuckdo you think you’re doing?” He levels them all with a glare.
“Nothing, but don’t you think she should know you’re promised to my niece? She carries herself as if she lays claim to you.” Portia confronts him.
Sighing, the Prince levels with them. “She doesn’t know. I haven’t told her.”
“Our nuptials are two moons away,” Lizbet gapes at him.
“And I told you, I don’t want this,” he seethes, bearing his teeth.
“You have no choice. I will not allow you to bring scandal to my name Malich Jarrah.”
“Marry some other Prince and claim it as his, I don’t fucking care…but if either of you so much as mentions our arranged marriage to the Seelie Queen I will marry you just to spite you and bring your fucking kingdom to the ground.”
Prince Jarrah leaves them with a warning glare and hurries back to his Queen. “Now thatis a man in love,” Delilah sounds as if she’s impressed.
Wounded, all Lizbet can do is stare at the man she loves. The man who stole her virtue, gifting her womb his lineage in the process. She can’t let him go. She won’t. Taking a deep breath she rejoins the Prince and his Queen. He told them not to mention their arranged marriage, but there were other ways of conveying a message without words.
Meeting the Queens gaze, she slid her eyes to the Prince, making sure to stare longingly at him while clasping a hand over her womb. Just as she hoped, the Queen followed her movement. Her eyes grew wide and shot up to meet Lizbet’s gaze. The Princess simply offered the Queen a telling smile.
Fury sparked behind the Queen eyes. She sliced her gaze over to the Prince whose eyes were burning with murderous intent. Folding my arms across my chest I gave him a wink. Checkmate.
Queen Arya looks as if she might hurl and quickly leaves the room. The Prince takes Lizbet by the arm and politely drags her into an empty room. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Prince Jarrah seethes. “Did you not hear anything I said?”
“I didn’t mention it, I simply held my growing womb. It’s not my fault she put two-and-two together. But now that she knows, isn’t it better for everyone that she does? The way the two of you are parading around, gazing into each other’s eyes, my people might think you’rethe ones getting married instead of you and I!” Lizbet shouts back.
Lizbet is expecting a fight and she welcomes it, because she isn’t sorry for what she’s done. Prince Malich Jarrah is hers, not the Queens. The only person who has yet to realize it is the Prince himself.
Malich sighs, raking his hand through his hair. “She means the world to me Lizbet.”
“And you mean the world to me,” she replies, daring to place a hand to his chest. To her surprise he doesn’t flinch or back away. “And to our child Prince Jarrah.”
He bristles at the mention of the child they share and backs away from her. Quietly, without any other words, he leaves the room. He’s probably going to find the Seelie Queen so he can grovel at her feet, begging for forgiveness.
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