Page 51 of A Court Bright and Broken

My gaze flicked over to meet his disapproving glare.

I’m aware. I don’t need your matchmaking services any longer—or a chaperone. Go on and enjoy the ball.

In my mind, his tone grew harder.

I told you, this one’s not for you. The matchmaking glamour told me she was literally the worst match for you in this entire castle. Why did you ask for my help if you were just going to ignore me?

Looking down at Wyn, I sent my brother a reply.You’re wrong. I can feel it. There’s something about this one.

So you don’t trust the matchmaker’s glamour? Or is it me you don’t trust?

The last question was a growl in my head.

Of course I trust you,I said.With everything but this. Isawthe way you were looking at her.

And yet you still moved in and took her away?

I didn’t take her away,I insisted.You told me yourself she’d already refused to dance with you, eat with you, or even sit on a bench with you.

I let out a sigh of frustration.

But there’s something between her and me, I told him.I can’t explain it. It’s like we already know each other somehow. I’ve never felt anything like it.

You’re right,Pharis said. I was interested. Believe me, Igetthe attraction. But this isnotjealousy speaking—something is wrong. For whatever reason, she isnotthe future queen of Avrandar. I don’t think she’s who you think she is.

I don’tknowwho she is yet—and neither do you,I argued. But I intend to find out. If there’s a problem, I’ll get to the root of it. Now, go and find someone to dance with. You can have any other woman here. Literally, take themall, individually or all at once. I don’t care. But leave just this one for me.

Throwing his hands up in frustration, Pharis stormed off. My eyes followed him until he was lost in the crowd, and my gut twisted with concern. We so rarely argued, and never before about a woman.

“Is everything all right, Your Highness?” Wyn asked.

Her brows were lifted, and there was real interest in her tone.

Naturally she hadn’t heard my exchange with Pharis. Though Elven people could speak to each other mind to mind, it wasn’t broadcast widely for anyone to overhear—unless we wanted it to be.

Direct one-to-one conversations were private. For that, I was glad. Wyn didn’t need to hear about my brother’s suspicions.

She would have been highly insulted. And hehadto be mistaken.

I felt what I felt. My instincts had never led me astray before. Besides, it seemed ridiculous that someone so lovely could possibly be so “wrong” for me, as he’d insisted.

Anyway, the truth would come out soon enough. Elves couldn’t lie to each other mind-to-mind.

Though it was rather forward of me—one didn’t initiate mental conversation with new acquaintances—I decided to venture it. Just in case.

Are your feet getting tired? Would you like something to eat or drink?I asked.

Before she had a chance to answer, a page tapped me on the shoulder, interrupting us. I turned to him.

“What is it?”

The young Elf’s tone was apologetic. “The King summons you. And the lady.”

He nodded to us both and walked away.

My gaze lifted over the crowd and toward the dais where my father’s throne sat. Unlike the intricate coral one in the much-smaller throne room, this one was made of thousands of pieces of seaglass melded together.

It sparkled under the lights, surrounding him in the reflected glow and making him look like some kind of celestial being. His superior expression only added to the godlike image, something he undoubtedly intended.

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