Page 49 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

At some point, Lymseia breaks from me and stands next to the steward. I descend the stairs into the ballroom. The crowd parts for me, like I’m someone important.

To them, I am someone important.

I’m the Crown Prince’s betrothed.

But once I escape, I’ll go back to being Cryssa, the miner’s daughter. I won’t be someone important. And I won’t be married to an arrogant fae male.

Viridian waits for me in the center of the ballroom with his hands clasped behind his back. Alone. The guests have distanced themselves from him, forming a large circle. Behind him, at the far end of the room, sits the High King on his bronze throne. Watching closely, like an instructor evaluating a pupil.

I force myself to move forward. When I approach, he holds out a hand for me.

Ever the gentleman, I think bitterly. I take it, and he pulls me closer until I’m nearly pressed to his chest. I stiffen, and he clenches his jaw.

Viridian’s stare heats my cheeks. “You look stunning tonight.”

I scowl, wishing his approval didn’t please me. Wishing I wasn’t here, dancing with him, while wearing the dress he commissioned for me. But we dance, and I follow his lead, relying on Nefine’s lessons. I try to pull back, to put more distance between us, but Viridian’s hand is firm on my back. Holding me in place.

“Would you do me the honor of at least pretending to enjoy my company?” he asks, looking past me.

Trying not to call attention to myself, I follow his line of sight. People peer at us over their goblets, glancing our way between sips.

“Why should I?” I hiss. He’s given me no reason to.

“Stealing you from your family, tucking you away in the castle all this time…” Viridian’s voice softens. For the first time since I’ve arrived, he looks at me. As if he’s staring into my soul, his amber gaze smoldering with an intensity I haven’t seen before. “I know that in your eyes, I am the villain.”

He pauses and swallows. Then he spins me around, his hand on my waist securing me to him after my twirl.

Some of the guests watch us through shrouded eyes, others with curiosity. Some even look my way with envy written all over their faces.

Viridian’s voice brings my focus back to him. “But this marriage is so much more than you know. Like you, I didn’t want this. But you and I have no choice. There are forces greater than either of us that are beyond my control.”

“The gods?” I ask, my voice harsh. “I haven’t forgotten Theelia’s blessing.” How could I, when it ruined my life?

Viridian stays silent, leveling his expression. Maintaining decorum, as a crown prince should. To any onlookers, we’re simply a couple dancing.

Those in the crowd watching us finally look away, distracted by waitstaff serving small delicacies and more wine.

I start, “Your Highness—”

“Viridian,” he interjects, eyes locking with mine. “Please. Call me Viridian.”

“Fine,” I grumble. “Viridian. If I am to be your bride, then you should be honest with me. Why am I here?”

“To marry me,” he says, evading my question while we dance.

“That’s not what I asked, and you know it.”

“You’re right,” he concedes, turning his face from mine again.

“Then tell me.”

He twirls me again, the music humming in my ears much louder than it should be.

“Viridian.”

“Has anyone told you how stubborn you are?”

Simmering, I glower at him.

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