Page 98 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

“The High King has returned. He wants to see you and Viridian in the throne room at once.”

My stomach falls. Anxiety wraps its cold fist around my insides.

“Then I’ll head there at once,” I tell her, my mouth dry.

She nods. “I’ll escort you.”

Something in her eyes tells me she doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

We’re silent as we descend the staircase and turn the corner toward the throne room. I see Viridian first, standing some distance away from the cracked bronze throne, where Vorr sits.

The High King leans back, hands gripping the arms of the throne so tightly that if not for his gloves, I’m sure his knuckles would go white.

The tension between the two fae males is palpable, as though I could slice through it with a dagger.

Lymseia’s feet stay planted outside the set of double doors when I enter.

I approach, stopping when I’m in line with Viridian, and bow.

“Your Majesty.” I rise from my curtsy. “I’m glad to see that you’ve returned.”

Vorr forces a polite smile. “Thank you, Miss Thurdred.” His eyes move to Viridian. “If only my son shared your sentiment.”

Deathly quiet, Viridian’s voice comes out as a low snarl. “Where were you?”

“That is none of your concern.” Vorr’s words are curt.

“No?” Viridian cocks his head. Rage bubbles just beneath the surface, brimming in his expression. “Then why were your advisors left in the dark with me? You left with no warning.”

“Do not question me.” Vorr’s voice goes cold.

Viridian tilts his head back, clenching his jaw.

“Everything I do, I do for this kingdom,” Vorr continues, looking anywhere but at his son. “I shall do as I see fit.”

He pauses, and silence falls over us.

“The two of you will be married in a fortnight.” His words are those of the High King. Not of a father.

“What?” Viridian’s voice is sharp, like the crack of a whip.

My head snaps toward him. I furrow my brows in an effort to contain my emotions.

“Father,” Viridian protests, “you cannot return and simply—”

“I am the High King.” Vorr stands, anger sharpening his tone. “My word is law. You will do as I command.”

Viridian seethes, his amber eyes burning like hot coals. His entire body goes rigid, hands curled into fists by his sides. He doesn’t look at me—his anger seems to only be directed at his father.

Then why does he object to our marriage? Out of spite, or because…

My chest constricts.

Maybe he doesn’t want to be tied to me forever.

Vorr is silent for a moment, and then sits back down. “You are dismissed. Both of you.”

Viridian bows quickly before storming out of the throne room.

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