Page 8 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

“We’re here for your daughter, Cryssa Thurdred.”

My father shifts his weight, shielding me from view. “Has Cryssa done something wrong?”

“Not at all. She’s been personally chosen by her fated to be his bride. With Theelia’s blessing, the High King bids it.”

If I’d eaten a heartier meal this morning, it would have wound up all over the floor. My stomach threatens to empty itself, and I force myself to swallow the growing lump in my throat.

He found me.

Acantha covers her mouth and grabs onto me with her free hand, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

“Is Cryssa home?” the guard asks gruffly.

Father hesitates.

“If you’re hiding her, we are authorized to use force as needed.”

“I’m here!” I cry, rushing forward. “No one’s hiding me.”

The guard tilts his head back a little, still eyeing Father with suspicion. Then he turns to me. “You’re to come with us.”

My heart rams against my ribcage. I think of my beloved sketchbook upstairs, filled with drawings of home and the people I love. “May I have a moment to pack my things?”

“That won’t be necessary,” the other guard tells me, much kinder than his companion. “All you require will be provided at the castle.”

I choke. “Castle?”

“Yes.” The guard nods. “In Keuron.”

My throat burns from holding back the tears welling in my eyes.

Keuron. They’re taking me to Inatia’s capital.

To marry some noble fae male I don’t know.

I puff my chest, forcing myself to be brave, like Mother always was when things were uncertain. “Then may I have time to say goodbye?” I hope they’ll at least give me that.

The gruff-sounding guard opens his mouth to speak, but the kind one cuts him off. “Very well. We’ll allow it.”

I throw my arms around Father and hold him close. He does the same, pressing me to his chest. Father sniffles, pulling away from me only to place a kiss onto my forehead. He extends his arm to Acantha. She crashes into us, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Cryssa,” Father says. The severity in his tone unnerves me. “Cryssa, there is something you must know. Something I have been meaning to tell you. You are—”

He doesn’t have time to finish before the gruff guard interrupts him. “Time’s up.”

“Father,” I say. “What is it?”

Ignoring me, the guard takes me by the arm and pulls me out of the house.

“Father!” I shout, twisting my body to keep him in view.

Father, with a sobbing Acantha on his arm, follows me outside. But they quickly get swallowed by the crowd gathering on the streets, and I lose sight of them. Loud voices close in around me, echoing off the cobblestone beneath my feet.

With both guards at my sides, gripping my arms, they lead me farther away from home.

Humans and lesser fae alike gather in the town square. Shop doors stay open while more people pour out of them, wiping their hands clean of their work on their pants or skirts.

Some faces, I recognize.

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