Page 82 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses

The dining hall was dimly lit, the towering oak doors ahead of us standing like sentinels guarding a secret. Callan paused before them, turning to face me fully. For a moment, the weight of his gaze was enough to make my breath hitch, and I could feel the unspoken words lingering between us.

“If things don’t go well tonight…” He hesitated, his hand reaching up as if to brush a stray lock of hair from my face but stopping just short. “I hope you know that I’m glad you’re here.”

Before I could respond, the heavy doors swung open, revealing the cavernous dining hall beyond. The edges of the room were wreathed in shadows that held movement and whispers—evidence that we were not alone. Only the middle of the space was well-lit by a chandelier that glowed with torchlight. And in the very center, seated at the head of a polished oak table, was the king.

Duron didn’t bother to rise as we entered. His gaze—piercing and sharp as a hawk’s—swept over me, assessing, calculating.

“Father,” Callan said, his voice transforming into a more formal tone as we approached.

“You’ve returned from your little adventure, I see,” Duron said. “And you did not return empty-handed.”

“You’re correct. May I present Aurelia, heir to the Summer Court.”

Duron’s eyes gleamed with hunger as they settled on me, and for a moment, I felt as though I were standing naked before him. Every secret I held, every doubt, every hope—it was as if he was attempting to dig it up and snatch it into his claws for whatever use he might have for it later.

I straightened my spine, forcing myself to meet his gaze head-on. And to keep him from taking anything Ididn’t willingly offer.

“Princess Aurelia,” he said, scanning the length of me in a frank and crude assessment. “Alive and in the flesh. We thought the Summer Court lost years ago.”

“And so they are, in a manner of speaking,” I said, dipping my chin and bowing before looking up again.

He frowned. “And what manner is that, exactly?”

I tensed before shoving out the words that revealed my kingdom was vulnerable. “The Summer Court has been cursed with perpetual sleep by Heliconia. They do not wake, and they do not age. They are cursed to remain frozen while the rest of the realm moves on.”

“All except you,” he said, and beneath those words lurked the question.

“The Aine saved me,” I said, the half-truth rolling off my tongue much more smoothly this time. “They created powerful wards, a protection against anyone who might see advantage or opportunity in the kingdom’s current fate.”

He showed no hint of surprise. He’d known already—at least about the wards.

“You honor us with your presence.” Though his words were polite, there was a chill in them, a subtle undercurrent to match my own.

“The honor is mine, Your Majesty,” I replied, dipping into a curtsy as gracefully as I could manage despite the tension coursing through my veins.

The king nodded but said nothing more as Callan led me to the second chair on the king’s right. Mercifully, Callan took the empty seat between us, and the meal was served.

Servants appeared, somber and silent as they brought dish after dish. Roast pheasant and chicken, garlic-crusted grounquail, baked summer potatoes, butter-smothered beans, and corn. It was delicious—or would’ve been if I could taste it. But I took bite after bite without noticing a single flavor, thanks to thenerves that gripped me.

The king ate in silence—a sound I’d grown all too practiced with. Except that, this sort of quiet was full of threats. I could feel them sinking their claws into my skin—whispering their dangers in my ears.

Finally, Duron set his fork aside and picked up his wine. Over the rim of his glass, he said, “I am told my son has brought you here under the pretense of an engagement.”

I started to answer, but Callan cut me off.

“No pretense, Father. I intend to honor my word.”

The king’s eyes narrowed. “You are making promises for your king now?”

“Of course not. But Aurelia and I once agreed on a marriage alliance, and now that she’s been returned to me, that alliance stands,” Callan said. His words were careful, his tone deceivingly light.

“And this alliance—does it come with an army to aid us? Or will all her subjects serve their crown from the comfort of their pillows?”

My hand tightened on my napkin.

Callan’s expression was somber. “Aurelia’s kingdom needs our help, Father.”

“What about what we need?” Duron growled. “Or have you lost all sense of loyalty to your own crown?”

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