The King's Cursed Bride

Falling in Love

Author's Note: I want you guys to start thinking about couple names for those of you who ship Viltus and Carissa 😉  We can have a vote later, if you're up for it!

Here are some fabulous couple names invented by :
Cartus
Caristus
Carisus
Viltissa
Viltrissa
CV
VC

My favorites are Viltissa and Viltrissa. What are yours?

***

Carissa shoved the creaky door open to Viltus' house and slammed it behind her.

There was the cot that Viltus had given up for her. The table where they'd eaten together. The hearth before which they'd almost kissed.

She staggered to the cot and sank. What was she to believe? Undoubtedly Viltus was hiding something, but was that it? Did he truly drag women off the streets and make prostitutes of them?

"Just know that I will not make you into what you are not."

His words reverberated through her mind. Had he meant that? Could a man capable of such tenderness also be capable of pawning off women?

She studied his meager surroundings. Surely not. Even if his demeanor couldn't attest to his innocence, his poor living quarters could. With the money he'd gained from selling women, he'd probably be living in a bigger home, and he'd have enough coin to buy more flour and oats—even sugar.

She couldn't afford to run away on a whim like last time. Surely Viltus had a reasonable explanation.

One thing was certain: when Viltus returned home, she was going to ask him a few questions—and she would not take "no" for an answer.

***

The door creaked open a few hours later, pouring orange light from the sunset into the room. Viltus' silhouette filled the doorway, his thick healer's robes hiding his muscular frame beneath.

Carissa stopped massaging the cat's back and set her onto the floor before rising from the bench. "Viltus."

He slammed the door behind him. Judging from his tilted head and narrowed eyes, he'd noted her monosyllabic greeting. "Carissa." He plopped a bag of flour onto the wooden table and seated himself across from her.

A ragged sigh tore past his lips, and it seemed a bit of his life escaped with it. His strong back curved as his forehead met the table. She hadn't thought him more than a handful of years older than she, but seeing him like this made Carissa second-guess herself.

She bit her lip, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. "Viltus?"

He remained silent.

"Who's Elisa?"

The silent stretched longer this time, growing taut with tension. He slowly lifted himself from the table. His sea-blue gaze turned artic, as if ice glazed its surface. "No."

She tightened her lips. He wouldn't avoid her question so easily this time. "But—"

His gaze became so frosty she felt as if she'd been doused with ice water. "I said no."

She smoothed her expression, though her blood boiled with frustration. If Viltus wasn't going to give her the truth, she'd have to pry it from him. After all, even the thickest sheet of ice melted with enough heat. She leaned forward, her voice soft as warm butter. "You sold her, didn't you?"

He jerked back, eyes so wide and expression so stricken that regret pinched her chest. His jaw hardened to rock. "Since Garma has falsely labeled you a whore, I didn't think you'd be so gullible if she labeled me a seller of women."