Page 29 of Fading Sun

I’m struggling to keep up, my mind stuck on Lysandra’s previous words.

A place steeped with our history.

What kind of history?

From the way she said it, it sounds far more serious than the likes of them being mere acquaintances.

My chest tightens at the thought of Damien and this beautiful fae queen together, and I step closer to him. Almost territorially so.

Definitely territorially so.

Lysandra’s gaze drifts to my left hand, and she relaxes slightly, giving me a chilling smile as she waits for Damien’s answer.

“Your wisdom,” Damien repeats, stern and sure. “For a question you’ll be pleased to hear.”

Lysandra’s expression shifts, intrigue sparking in her eyes. “Very well,” she says, her voice softening as she turns to the girl by her side. “Freesia, would you give us a moment?”

“Of course.” Freesia’s eyes remain downcast as she gives me and Damien a small curtsy, although she manages one quick, curious look behind the curtain of her brown hair before hurrying out of the garden.

Damien told me about Freesia during our walk in the park to get to the castle. She’s the changeling girl—a human—that Lysandra took in to raise as her own. If you can call it that, since fae view humans as pets more than children.

My heart goes out to her. I hope she’s happy here, and treated well, in this realm full of tricks and deception.

The changeling, however, isn’t my problem.

Ensuring I don’t get tangled into a marriage I’m not ready for is.

Lysandra all but floats over to the fountain, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she runs the tips of her fingers along the surface of its water.

“So,” she begins, playful and curious. “What question brings the mighty King Damien back to my garden with the woman he intends to make his bride, but has yet to put a ring on her finger, by his side?”

She looks supremely self-satisfied after speaking that final part.

I cover my left hand with my right, as if hiding a ring that isn’t there.

“We’re looking for a way to break the duskberry bond,” I say, the words escaping my lips before I can stop myself.

I’m supposed to leave the talking to Damien.

The fae are picky about phrasing, especially when it comes to requesting favors and making deals. One wrong word, no matter how small, can be the difference between receiving what you sought or being tricked into an agreement you didn’t realize you were making.

But something about Lysandra irks me so much that I can’t stand here speechless, like a deer in her deadly headlights.

The fae queen lifts her hand from the fountain, and a ribbon of shimmering water follows her movements, disappearing into the air as her arm falls back to her side.

“You’re asking me to tell you how to break the duskberry bond?” she asks, her eyes locked on mine, waiting for an answer.

“No,” Damien replies before I have a chance. “We’re asking you to break the duskberry bond that exists between us.”

He keeps his gaze fixed on Lysandra, and while he doesn’t look over at me, I can practically feel the disappointment radiating from his body.

Quickly, I analyze the differences between what he said and what I said.

If Lysandra agreed to do as I asked, all she would have to do was tell us how to break the bond—not actually do or give us what we need to break it. And her instructions wouldn’t necessarily apply to the bond between us. They could simply be how to break a duskberry bond in general, assuming there are different kinds of them.

“You no longer want to marry the girl?” Lysandra directs the question to Damien, not to me.

“Our reason for wanting to break the bond is irrelevant,” he says, his stance as guarded as ever.

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