Chapter 12: Free of Everything

(CORRINE)

I’m not doing anything, merely existing. But Locke’s people still feel the need to punish me for even that little.

When I was living in Ravenna’s palace, I had no one. There was no expectation of protection because who would protect me? No parents, no one who cared about me. No one was supposed to care about me.

I thought it was hard. Trying to survive was hard.

But this? The man who is supposed to protect me, treating me like this? It is killing me.

My own fated mate despises me and wants me to suffer.

Living in this castle, being bullied by my mate’s people, is suffocating. There is no end in sight.

What is one supposed to do when all hope begins to fade away?

Sigrid is having a healer see me daily. I’m trying to do my duties as a queen. But the farmers look at me with suspicion. The artisans are cautious when I speak to them. My mate’s lover spares no attempt to make my life miserable. The maids who are supposed to look after me pull at my hair, ripping it when they comb it. They deliberately poke hairpins into my scalp. And I can’t do anything to stop them.

I’m supposed to live like this because my mate told me to.

I thought I should be grateful that I’m alive, but every day when I wake up, all I feel is despair.

I stare at the sleeping face of the man lying next to me. Why is he here in my bed now? Is this supposed to be some new form of torture?

My wolf has slowly become silent and withdrawn over these last two weeks. The rejection from our mate is killing it.

I heard once that if a fated mate rejects you, sometimes the trauma can kill a shifter’s animal. Is that what’s happening?

My wolf is all I have. I constantly try to comfort it, but to no avail.

I turn onto my other side, feeling my eyes grow wet. How much longer do I have to live? Why doesn’t he just kill me?

He will be free to be with his lover. And I will just be free.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and two thick tears roll down the side of my face, dampening my pillow.

Suddenly, my mate’s arm reaches out and wraps around my waist. He pulls me into his chest.

I freeze, but when he doesn’t say a word, a strange, comforting rumbling emitting from his throat, I find myself relaxing.

His body is warm, and when his leg swings over my hips, I glance over my shoulder to check, unable to help myself. However, he’s asleep. It seems, in his sleep, he wants to hold me.

How ironic.

The vibration of the rumbling lulls me to sleep.

Pulling away isn’t an option because he is wrapped around me too securely. I look down at his bare arm and make sure he is completely out of it before touching that thick, muscled appendage.

My heart aches as I cover part of his hand with mine. Maybe I can pretend he cares about me.

I don’t know why he’s in my bed tonight or why he’s acting as if my following his orders is not what he wanted, but right now I need some comfort, and I’m willing to take any scraps he is throwing my way.

I close my eyes, drained.

Maybe the Goddess will listen to me, and tomorrow, I won’t wake up.

***

I really wish the Goddess had granted my request, because none of what is happening is making sense to me.

The designer Sigrid summoned last week, is now standing before us, quivering. Locke is lounging in my sitting room, staring her down. All the dresses that were delivered are on the floor, and my two maids are pale-faced and trembling, avoiding my gaze.

“Sigrid, where is Bella?” Locke’s voice is harsh. “If she doesn’t arrive within two minutes, have the guards drag her over here.”

Thirty seconds later, the door of the sitting room opens, and Bella walks in. She takes one look at the designer, Locke, and the clothes on the ground, and stiffens. “Whatever lies she’s telling you, don’t believe her, Locke.”

“Shut up.”

Bella falls silent, shooting me a hateful look.

“Well, now that we’re all here, I would like to know why you chose to dress the queen in such rags.” His voice is hard as he looks at the designer.

The woman wrings her hands. “I was only following orders, Your Majesty.”

“Whose orders?”

“The queen’s, of course!” Bella says quickly, only for Locke to roar. “Did you not hear me the first time? Shut up, or I’ll rip your tongue out!”

Bella turns white as a sheet.

“You were saying?” My mate looks at the designer.

The woman is trembling so badly that I feel sorry for her. I have a feeling she’s going to fall over, and I instinctively move to get her a chair when Locke reaches out and grabs my wrist. “You stay. In fact, sit down.”

He yanks me down onto the couch, making me fall into his lap. He holds me there.

“Let me go,” I whisper, my face getting hot.

He refuses. “Stop fidgeting.”

The designer glances at me pleadingly. “The designs that the queen wanted were different, but Miss Asher disapproved of them. She and the maids chose these dresses.”

“You lying—”

“One more word, Bella, and I swear I’ll do it,” Locke growls, and she recoils.

“What are you doing?” I whisper to him. “She’s going to be upset.” He stares at me.

“Let her be upset. Why the hell do you care?”

I hold my tongue. If he doesn’t care, why should I?

“Continue,” he says to the designer.

“Miss Asher told the queen that she wasn’t worthy of wearing those designs. She said that a lowly creature like her deserves to wear rags,” the designer chokes out. “She and the maids taunted the queen and chose these clothes for her.”

Locke flexes his hand into a fist. “I see. And were you here to serve Bella?”

The designer’s head jerks up. “No, Sire. But Miss Asher is always the one who uses my services. She always has the final say—”

“Is Bella the queen?” he asks coldly, cutting her off. The designer pales.

“No—”

“Can you point out who the queen of the North Kingdom is?”

The trembling designer points toward me.

“So, you’re telling me that somebody insulted my mate, the queen, in your presence and ordered clothes that even commoners wouldn’t wear, and you had the nerve to bring those exact items? Did you expect the queen to wear them?”

The designer whimpers. “But Miss Asher—”

“I asked you a question. Did you expect the queen to wear these clothes? Did you think it was funny to mock the queen of this kingdom?”

The woman collapses to the ground, terrified. “I wouldn’t dare!”

“But you did.” Locke’s arm tightens around my waist. “Maybe I should just let the monsters plaguing the border roam free. Let them into your village to kill your family. Since you clearly don’t respect mine.”

The designer’s head lifts, terror written all over her face. “Your Majesty!”

“Sigrid, bring those maids here.”

Sigrid drags over the two maids and throws them to the ground, where they immediately kneel, crying.

“You don’t like to serve your mistress?” Locke demands. “Do you think you’re better than her?”

They shake their heads, weeping.

I don’t like this. I don’t like to see him bullying these women. It brings me no satisfaction.

“I think that’s enough,” I say, tense.

Locke snaps at me. “If you can’t discipline your maids, then I will. The fact that they dared to turn on their mistress and mock her is not acceptable. They clearly think they are of a higher status than the queen. Maybe I should send them into battle on the border. Let them experience life out there.”

He has not said anything to Bella, and it doesn’t surprise me. After all, why would he reprimand his lover? Yet, she was the instigator in all of this. The others were simply going along with her.

“Summon the guards,” Locke orders coldly. “These three women, along with their entire families, old and young, will be sent to the border to fight alongside the soldiers.”

I know of the border by the Veil. The monsters that roam there are incredibly dangerous. The king is giving these people a death sentence for nothing but preparing inappropriate clothing for me.

I’ve never raised my voice before. I’ve never stood up for myself. But if I don’t do something right now, these women and their families will die. They shouldn’t die because of me.

“No.” I pull away from Locke. “I don’t want them fighting at the border.”

“The decision has been made,” Locke says sharply, his eyes flashing at me.

I could stay silent as I’ve been told to and let the women go to their deaths.

But I can’t. I don’t want them to die simply because of what they did to me. It’s not right.

Locke has decided to kill them, and the only one who can stop him is me. Meanwhile, the person responsible for everything is getting off scot-free.

It takes every ounce of my willpower to get to my feet and say, “No. These are my maids, and the designer was working for me. I should be the one to decide their punishment.”

My mate looks at me, his brows raised. “You are going to punish them?”

“You did say they are my maids, right?” I challenge him, hoping he doesn’t see how my knees are trembling under my dress.

He studies me for a few seconds, and for a moment, I think I see a flicker of amusement in his eyes. But it’s gone after I blink, and I’m sure I just imagined it.

“Very well. What do you want to do with them?”

“The maids will wear the dresses. And I don’t want them to serve me anymore. I don’t need any maids. I don’t trust the staff in this castle to serve me. Sigrid is enough for me. As for the designer, I won’t be getting clothes made by her again. Sigrid will find me another designer. And this one will not receive any business from the castle ever again.”

At most, it’s going to hurt her cash flow, but at least she’ll be alive.

“Fine.” Locke shrugs. “Do as you please. But you will have an attendant at all times.”

Because he doesn’t trust me, I muse to myself, my heart tightening in my chest.

“I won’t have my queen doing her own tasks. If the servants in the castle are not to your satisfaction, I’ll dismiss them all and bring in others.”

I’m stunned. Is this the same man who told me I should know my place and not make a fuss?

Sigrid looks relieved. “I’ll demote the maids, Your Majesty.”

White-faced, the maids are led away by Sigrid, and the designer follows after them. The only people left in the room are Locke, Bella, and me.

Feeling uncomfortable, I glance at her. She’s staring at Locke. Maybe she wants to vent to him for not taking her side.

Locke looks at me. “You’re not pleased?”

His words take me aback. “You did this to please me?”

He shrugs, carefully watching my expression. “They try to humiliate you, I make them pay for it.”

“They were just lackeys,” I murmur—mostly to myself, but he catches it.

“You want me to punish Bella?”

His arm is sprawled across the back of the couch as he studies me. I stare back at him, trying to figure out what his game is. He just went from paying no attention to me at all to suddenly defending me in front of the people who have been bullying me.

I’m not naïve enough to believe that he has had a change of heart. He’s up to something.

I’ve had enough of these games played with me to know that one wrong move can be catastrophic. I clench my fingers in the fabric of my dress, trying to push aside a wave of nausea.

Punish his lover? Does he really think I’m going to be stupid enough to say yes to that?

I straighten up, ignoring the spasm of pain in my back. “I leave that to your discretion, Your Majesty.”

Let him make of that statement what he will. He’s not going to do anything to Bella. I can understand why he was angry over her prank, though. After all, I am the queen now. If I were to wear those clothes, even within the castle walls, it would reflect poorly on him.

He’s probably just mad about that indirect impact on himself. That makes sense.

However, if I thought he would leave things at that, I’m sorely mistaken.

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