I do vaguely recall saying something like that. But I never expected her to take it so seriously.
Isn’t this what I wanted, though? Why does it bother me so much when she looks at me with those empty eyes?
“This room, these clothes, and you all belong to the princess.” Her voice is clear.
“You are the one who’s my fated mate, not the princess,” I remind her.
Her lips curve in a faint smile. “Your Majesty, you are her mate. I am your prisoner, nothing more.”
Gripping the dress to her chest, she slips off my coat and walks toward the bathroom to change. When she passes me, I see the scars on her back. I stiffen.
Harriet told me about them, but she downplayed their extent. Leanna’s back is a mangled mess. Not one inch of skin has been spared. Her buttocks are the same. I’ve seen similar
