Page 32 of Fading Sun

“Very well,” the fae queen says. “But when you marry a man who values his kingdom over the woman he claims to love, remember that I offered you a life of peace—of freedom from pain and longing—and you refused.”

“That’s enough, Lysandra,” Damien snaps at her.

“Is it?” she asks sweetly. “Will anything—or anyone—ever be enough for you?”

His jaw tightens, and there’s a fire in his icy eyes that I haven’t seen in a while.

A fire that gives me hope.

“I’ve made my choices, and I stand by them. Just as I stand by Amber,” he says, kindling a warmth in my soul that I didn’t realize was missing until this moment. “You know better than to question my loyalty to those I care about.”

Her laughter’s chilling and sharp, making goosebumps prickle across my arms. “And who do you care about, Damien?” she asks. “Who, not what. A kingdom doesn’t count.”

I look back and forth between them, a silent witness to a history much deeper and more tangled than I ever imagined.

There are so many layers to Damien’s past. I’ve barely scratched the surface of uncovering them—of getting to know him.

Am I really about to go ahead and marry him?

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Lysandra,” Damien says, as cold as ever, bringing my racing thoughts back to the verbal spar between them. “It’s beneath you and the crown you wear.”

Her eyes widen, and she lifts her chin in a mix of surprise and disdain. “You mistake my intentions,” she replies to him. “I offer her freedom—not chains.”

“You offer yourself an opportunity to get back what you feel you’ve lost.”

His words are daggers thrown at her, and she curls her hands into fists, huge droplets of water in the fountain rising like crystal weapons.

Weapons I could potentially vaporize.

My magic warms under my skin, very much enjoying that thought.

But I won’t antagonize the fae queen.

No attacking unless she attacks first.

“Your offer to Amber is noted, but as she said, she made her choice,” Damien says before I can second-guess my decision to rein in my magic. “Now, we’ll be on our way.”

“And where, exactly, do you intend to go?” Lysandra asks. “My realm won’t give way to yours for hours.”

“The forest?” He smirks, as though amused by his own comment. “I hear the hobgoblins are quite hospitable.”

“Don’t be silly.” She scoffs. “You’ll stay here, in the palace.”

“You say that as if you think I’ll believe you’re offering from the generosity in your heart.”

“I’m offering because I also don’t want the shadow souls to take over the city, given that they’ll clearly come for my realm after they finish with yours,” she says. “You and your star touched bride won’t succeed in staving them off if you’ve been driven out of your minds by the hobgoblins before you can return home.”

“I’m not his bride,” I chime in, since I really hate her calling me that—even though it’s looking more and more possible that it’ll end up being true.

“Not yet. But if you ever are, at least you’ll know you were warned.” She remains focused on Damien, not sparing me a glance, and unsettlingly seeming to believe her words. “Now, since we’re clearly done here, I’ll see you both to your rooms myself.”

Amber

Lysandra wanted to give Damien and me separate rooms.

He, however, insisted on staying with me. He didn’t want to leave me alone in the fae realm.

Normally, I’d say I was fine to stay by myself, especially since sharing a room with Damien will be awkward at best.

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