The King's Cursed Bride

Apologizing

Author's Note: In case you guys hadn't noticed, I JUST PASSED 1K FOLLOWERS! AHHH! AHHHHHHHH! This really feels like a milestone for me, and I can't tell you how honored I am that so many of you are interested in reading my stories 💖 Not that I can take too much credit, since God is the one who's given me the love of writing and the inspiration to write.

And this week's comment award goes to: galaxial_dust. Thank you for the wonderful comment and choosing to stick with the story.

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As Elon strode forward, her gaze remained on the floorboards, her head too heavy to lift. And then they stopped. To her left, her mother's laced-up leather shoes were visible. To the right, her father's thicker boots, his trousers stuffed into the tops.

The silence was deafening, so much so she was tempted to plug her ears. At least then she could pretend her stopped ears were the source of the silence rather than the tension straining between her and her parents. Whatever they had to say to her, it would be well-deserved.

Once Carissa's breathing had slowed, she spoke, "Mother, Father, I'm so terribly—"

Thick arms nearly flattened her against a broad chest, and she clutched her father's wool vest. He smelled like hay and soil and barn animals. She didn't realize how much she'd missed him until now, and she pressed her forehead against his collarbone.

"You've returned. You're safe." Her father leaned back to study her face. A wide smile plumped his tanned cheeks. "You get prettier every time I see you, Carissa." A question flickered in his gaze as he glanced up at Elon. "And it seems I'm not the only one who's noticed."

She felt the prickle of hot tears and gripped him more tightly. Whenever she'd have a nightmare as a little girl, he'd cradle her against his chest and she'd clutch fistfuls of his woolen vest, just as she was doing now. Seeing him now was a balm to her chapped soul.

Her father swiped a thumb beneath her eye. "Now, now, none of that. Go greet your mother." His arms dropped to his sides, leaving her to the chill embrace of her mother's gaze.

Carissa stepped closer. "Mother."

Her mother's chin jerked in a nod. "Carissa."

Carissa clasped her hands. "I know I have no excuse for leaving the both of you like I did. And I'm so very sorry."

Her mother's lips thinned. "As you should be." Her gaze dropped to Carissa's stomach. "You'd best not have come running back here with a bellyful of a misbegotten child. We have no room for licentiousness in this household."

Each word felt like a stinging slap, the pain echoing within her chest. Had her mother really just said that?

Her father cleared his throat and clapped her on the shoulder. "Why don't you introduce us to this young chap, Carissa?"

Carissa caught her mother's gaze, hoping that if only her mother saw the pain and regret in Carissa's eyes she'd thaw. But her mother's demeanor remained as frosty as before, her eyes two chips of teal ice.

There'd be time to make a proper apology later, and perhaps her mother would be more receptive then. Carissa looped her arm through Elon's, ignoring how her mother slitted her eyelids. "Mother, Father, this is E—" She caught the edge of her tongue. He'd become so familiar to her that she'd forgotten to include his title. "I mean King Elon... of Nysia." Or should she say he was of Oran, the capitol where the palace was?

Her mother's gaze darted up and down Elon, stopping at his scuffed boots, plain clothing, and wind-mussed hair. "And I'm the Queen of Esmeray."

Carissa straightened. "Moth—"