Crimson Rose Queen

"Your Majesty!"

A maid burst into the garden where I lounged, soaking up rare solitude. "The king—he's here! In the main hall!"

Sebastian? My teacup clattered onto the saucer. After vowing never to return?

I sauntered in, ignoring the servants groveling at his feet. The king stood like a storm given human form—silver hair tied back with onyx clasps, a violet doublet embroidered with serpents swallowing their tails. His sword's hilt gleamed, a silent threat.

"Took you long enough," I drawled, flopping into the nearest chair. "What brings the great Sebastian Leohart to his 'forsaken' queen?"

The room collectively held its breath.

His crimson eyes flashed. "You dare address your king so?"

"Oh, I dare," I smirked. "Unless you've forgotten your decree: 'Silvermoon shall be your tomb.' Yet here you are, crawling back like a—"

"Enough!" He slammed a hand on the armrest, looming over me. The scent of frost and iron enveloped me. "I came for one reason: Prince Damien of Astoria arrives tonight. You will attend the banquet."

I arched a brow. "And if I refuse?"

His lips curled. "Then your beloved Nurse Margaret might find herself reassigned to the scullery."

Bastard. My nails bit into my palms. "Fine. But touch my people, and I'll ensure Prince Damien hears exactly what kind of king you are."

A muscle jumped in his jaw. "Wear something decent. That neckline is—"

"Decent?" I laughed, deliberately adjusting the lace to reveal more skin. "Funny. Lady Isabella's gowns could double as fishing nets, yet I'm the indecent one?"

His gaze dropped to my collarbone, then snapped away. "Just be there."

As he turned to leave, I called after him, "Oh, and Sebastian?"

A pause.

"Tell Lady Isabella to save me a seat. We'll have so much to discuss."

The door slammed hard enough to rattle the chandeliers.

Game on.