Page 133 of A Court Bright and Broken

“Power?” A harsh laugh burned my throat. “Is that supposed to be some sort ofenticementto me? A carrot you’re dangling out there to lure a stupid donkey forward into its pen?”

Everything about this scenario was laughable.

“I’m not a donkey, Stellon. And I’mnotgoing to be yourmistress.” I spat out the word like it was rancid. “The fact you’d even suggest it means you don’t know me at all.”

Thank the gods I hadn’t let him kiss me again. Elves had amazing powers of seduction—even more than I’d realized. Apparently I was almost helpless against them. Almost.

Between the romantic, hypnotic music and the near-kiss, I’d forgotten myself tonight. Stellon made that all too easy.

Which meant he wasdangerous.

I had to keep a clear head and not fall under his influence again, or I’d soon find myself answering to the title of “consort” and committing adultery with another woman’s husband.

Though I had no particular affection for most of the Fae women I’d met, I’dneverdo that.

“I know you’re not a donkey,” he said in a reasonable tone, as ifIwas the one suggesting madness here.

“And I’m not trying tolureyou,” he said. “I’m trying to convince you this plan is a win for everyone.”

“I wonder if your future wife would agree?” I asked sourly.

He brushed off the question with an impatient wave. “I don’t even know who that’ll be. Look, I realize it’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can offer, and—”

Here he cut himself off short.

“And?” I prodded.

“Well, for a person in your circumstances, I actually think it’s a pretty good deal.”

Anger flared from the bottom of my gut, rushing up my chest and threatening to boil over like a forgotten stew pot.

“Get out.”

“What?” Stellon asked.

I raised my arm and pointed at the door.

“Get. Out. I don’t care where you sleep tonight, but it’s not going to be here.”

“You can’t throw me out of my own chambers,” he said, obviously affronted.

“Oh yes I can, and I’m doing it.”

“Let me at least stay and sleep on the settee. If I don’t tend the fire, it’ll die during the night, and you’ll get cold,” he warned.

“I don’t care,” I said. “I don’t want you on the settee. I don’t want you in the next room. I don’t want you anywhere I can see you, hear you, or smell you.”

“And where do you expect me to go?” he asked, sounding exasperated.

“You can sleep out in the flower gardens for all I care. Or better yet, on the edge of the sea cliff.” I gave him a little shove that didn’t move him one inch. “Just get out.”

As I’d been talking, the volume of my voice had been steadily rising.

Stellon stepped close again and placed his palm over my mouth, muffling me.

“I’ve ordered the musicians not to look inside, but you’re tempting them. I know you don’t want a cellist’s death on your hands.”

That quieted me, but nothing was going to change my mind. I couldn’t stand to look at Stellon, much less share sleeping quarters with him.

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