Page 15 of A Kingdom of Broken Bonds

“The first bride, Lady Anthea from Trador and mate to Prince Havoc.”

The announcement fills the room, and I feel hundreds of eyes on me, all assessing. Quiet murmurs surround me, yet I ignore them all and continue walking through the space until I reach the king’s dais. The king watches me with interest, his expression approving as he takes in my fierce outfit. All of the princes are at his side, including my mate, but I refuse to look at him. Dropping into a low curtsy, I feel Geoff bow beside me.

“Welcome, Lady Anthea. Please stand.”

I’m glad he doesn’t make us wait long, the weight of the dress making it difficult. He gestures for me to move to the side, and I do, knowing I’m expected to stand to the right of his throne while he greets the others.

“The second bride, Lady Ember from Brimstone.”

The announcement causes attention to shift from me to the dragon representative. She looks fierce, a dragon walking in human skin. Her dress is tightly fitted and looks like thousands of tiny black scales all overlapping, only flaring once it reaches her knees, the heavy fabric then falls back behind her to reveal her legs.

When she reaches the king, she curtsies, and the king dismisses her. She joins me, and so the routine continues.

“The third bride, Lady Bliss from Corallina.” Bliss smiles as she glides through the ballroom, her dress swirling around her. I swear I can smell the scent of the ocean and hear the call of gulls, but when I pay closer attention, it disappears.

“The fourth bride, Lady Mallory from New Spellman.”

Wearing a simple black dress, the witch looks bored with this whole affair. Mallory has never been one for extravagant dresses, preferring the simpler clothing many of her people choose to wear.

“The newest bride, Lady Terra from Barheer.”

It’s no surprise to me that this announcement causes a murmur of conversation throughout the room as Terra makes her way towards the king. She wears a dress of deep green and has vines and dark purple flowers wrapping around her torso. At first glance, it seems like a very feminine and unlikely choice for the beasts, yet I examine her dress closer and see the flowers are deadly nightshade.

“Finally, the sixth bride, Princess Celest.”

There are whispers in the hall as the nobility realises that one of the brides is missing, as well as the fact that the centaurs have no representative here. As I glance around, I see that there aren’t actually any centaurs in attendance. That’s strange. While there are never many of them here because of their love of open spaces, there are always several centaur nobles who stay here. Is that because of the talk of rebellion? Did they leave, or were they forced to go?

The princess ignores the whispers and makes her way to the king. Her dress is a little like a toga, the blue fabric draped around her to create delicate folds and pleats, the rest of the fabric trailing behind her. Bells, gems, and jewellery are artistically draped around her too, and each step she takes creates a quiet jingle.

With all of us standing in line to the king’s right, we look out at the nobles. Males and females from the realms fill the hall, although the majority of them are the same unknown race as the king.

Everyone’s attention returns to King Drath as he stands from his throne and opens his arms wide. “Welcome, one and all, to the official welcoming ball.”

A low, excited murmur fills the space. This is all a game to them, seeing which bride will be paired off with whom. I can’t really blame them when that is exactly what the king wants—distract them from the destruction the prophecy promises and any whispers of rebellion, and instead dazzle them with glimmering dresses and grand balls. Even the way we are displayed under spotlights for everyone to see takes away our personal lives and turns us into property.

“We have waited a long time for this moment, and I can now announce that the prophecy is in motion. Please welcome our brides and applaud their dedication.”

Applause fills the room, and the excitement rises so much I can feel it in the air. The hair on my arms stands on end, and all the attention is making me uncomfortable.

The king waits until the clapping dies down, then he continues to speak, his expression settling into a frown. “As you might have noticed, the bride from the centaurs is not here. It is something we are dealing with, so there is no need for concern about her part in the prophecy.”

That’s it? That is all he is going to say, simply that they are dealing with it and to cast it from our minds? Surely they can’t expect this to be enough of an explanation.

He claps his hands together loudly and smiles once more. “On to more exciting news. Our first pairing will happen at the end of the month between Lady Anthea and my youngest son, Prince Havoc.”

He sounds so proud, and this time the applause seems warmer, more genuine. The nobility seems to be fond of the prince and pleased for him that he found his mate. If only they knew. They also don’t seem to be concerned over the missing bride, taking their king’s word and following blindly.

He turns slightly, not looking away from the crowd of nobles before him, and gestures for me to come to him. Receiving the same gesture to come forward, Havoc reluctantly climbs from the dais to join us. He stands only inches away from me, close enough to touch. It takes all of my willpower to keep looking straight ahead and not reach out and give into my needs. The bond twists in my chest, and I lose my battle, turning my head to gaze up at him. I feel like I’m holding my breath as I wait for his reaction. He looks over at me, giving me an assessing appraisal. His gaze lingers on my chest, and I see a flicker of interest in his eyes. However, when he looks at my face, he grimaces and looks away.

A lance of pain threatens to take me down, but I manage to stay upright, only a grimace pulling at my face. I want to scream and yell, to rip at my hair in my agony and make him see what he’s doing to me.

That is not the way of the vampires though. Somewhere in the darkness behind me, I feel Geoff’s stare and use that to strengthen me, attempting to channel his cool demeanour.

Hundreds of people are watching us, clapping and murmuring about what a wonderful pair we make, yet there’s a particular set of eyes that burn against my skin. Managing to keep my frown from my face, I look up and follow the heat of the gaze. The lights in the room are positioned so the dais is lit up, casting the rest of the hall in darkness. It shouldn’t be possible, but I’m able to pick out one person in that darkness, and somehow, I know exactly who it is just by their silhouette—Finnik, the fae best friend of the prince.

When my eyes adjust to the light, I can just about make out his expression. He’s watching with a frown, his disposition rigid and cold. It seems that he dislikes me just as much as his friend does. Have they had conversations about how much they hate me, planning ways to get Havoc out of marrying me? I don’t know why that annoys me so much. After all, I have no proof that is what they have been doing, and I am basing my assumption of his dislike on his current frown.

Fae are mysterious creatures, and no one is quite sure where they came from. There are theories that they were here before the other races colonised the land. The other theory is that they come from lands beyond the mountains. Behind Drathlor City is a treacherous mountain range that is unpassable. Anyone who has tried either had to return, or they were never seen again and presumed dead.

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