Page 136 of The Forbidden Fae King

“She is not in the right frame of mind to make this sort of decision. Keira all but broke it off with Finan before her pilgrimage.” My mother hisses.

“Maybe she saw something on the other side that gave her clarity.” My father replies.

“You need to do something, Edmund! To stop this. He should have asked you before putting a ring on her finger.” Her voice has a shrill note.

“Asked me?” Fire builds in my father’s tone. “I have been encouraging him for years to propose to Keira. And there is nothing I can do to stop this without causing royal offence. It needs to come from her.”

The silence between them drags out for so long, I almost leave, until my father speaks again. “We set her up on this path since she wasa child, Meave. She has only ever wanted to marry the prince, except for when she heard King Willard’s cruel words. We have to trust her now, and let her go on her chosen path.”

“I know.” Mother half sobs. “It is so hard to let go. She is still a child in my eyes. And for her to move so far away and be so vulnerable, it is terrifying.”

“Diarmuid will be with her. They will take care of each other.”

“I don’t think she is marrying him for a great romance, but to be queen and make a difference to this kingdom. The fact that she will miss out on the kind of love we have breaks my heart.” My mother chokes out.

I walk away, unable to handle their torment over my bleak future. A chill runs down my spine. I rarely witness any emotion in my mother.

The next morning, I am parceled up into the royal carriage, dressed in a puffy gown of silk and entwined in enough gems to befit a princess. It is a ludicrous way to dress for the road, but Finan expects nothing less.

The inside of the carriage is spacious, with two benches of cushioned seats facing each other and heavy drapes of purple velvet hanging open across the windows. A small table is built into the center.

Finan, Diarmuid and a lording named Cormac play Lord’s Cards. According to Finan the game is more dignified than those played by commoners and guards, but the only difference I can see is the gold leaf lacquered into each elaborately painted card.

I stare out the window, bored out of my mind and watching the scenery change, because card games are not becoming of a lady. Diarmuid keeps shooting me glances, while he and Cormac entertain Finan. I know I am not doing my part. I should be fawning over Finan, trying to steal kisses at each stop and making sure he doesn’t forget about how badly he wants me as his wife, even for a second.

I don’t care.

I shouldn’t have to play games and dance around in exhausting circles, just to keep the interest of the man who will be my husband.

It takes almost a week of traveling to get to the capital, because the carriage can only travel at a snail’s pace and must take the main highways.

A personal pavilion tent is set up for me each time we camp for the night, with its own antechamber, where I have Diarmuid sleep to protect me from nighttime visits. It's what would be expected of a lady’s brother and chaperone.

The temperature increases the closer we get to Sunbright City, and I sweat in my heavy skirts in the combined space of the carriage. The deep humidity is foreign to me. Hard and heavy to breathe.

As the Sunbright City comes into view, sprawling out across the horizon and ending at the mouth of a glittering bay, I prop both my hands on the window frame and stare out of it. A tall wall encircles the old parts of the city, interspersed with towers that have conical roofs of terracotta tiles.

Before it a shanty town spirals out, many of the haphazard buildings lean against the wall and each other. The ground is of baked, cracked mud, scattered with rubbish. Dirty children run around in rags. The smell of sweat and sewage is incredibly strong.

Finan keeps talking, as though he notices none of this.

A crowd forms around our procession, watching with curiosity, but no one cheers or throws petals. Where would they even get flowers from here? There is no greenery.

We approach massive gates, and soldiers run out of the guardhouse as soon as they see us. They part the crowd waiting to enter the city with their clubs, so we can glide straight through.

I crane my neck to see a woman fall to the ground under their attack, instantly swallowed by the churning crowd. A man who tries to go to her defense is hauled away by guards. There are more blows made to those peasants even after we pass.

Horror fills me at the blatant cruelty. At the needlessness of that pain inflicted.

The carriage passes under another gate and horns blast above us to mark our presence. I jump at the sudden sound.

Finan laughs at me, playing a hand on my thigh. “Get used to it,sweetheart. They are going to trumpet our arrival at every checkpoint.”

I place my hand on top of his and force a smile.

We enter the city proper, and the first thing I notice is that there is so much stone. Every inch of the ground is paved. The buildings are of tan colored brick and the roofs fashioned in terracotta tiles. They are of the same blocky shape and size, three stories high.

Pale travertine stone fountains gurgle at every corner, with water pouring from sculptures of people or animals, but these are the only artworks adorning this city.

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